Chapter 28 · Stitching the Taboo

"Put the needle down, Vesper." Kael caught my wrist before the tip touched his skin. "You miss the seam, and the suppressor reaches my heart."

"Then stop moving."

"You’re the one shaking."

"I’m shaking because you’re bleeding on my table."

His grip tightened. Not enough to hurt. Enough to remind me that even half-dead, Kael still knew exactly where to put his hands.

The back-alley clinic had one working lamp, one cracked monitor, and a surgical tray that had seen better decades. Kael sat against the rusted metal chair with his shirt cut open at the side, a dark line of blood running beneath his ribs. Three black injector darts had pierced him during the ambush. Two were still buried there.

The third had shattered inside him.

That was the problem.

"Let go," I said.

"Tell me what you’re planning."

"To save your life."

"That wasn’t my question."

I leaned closer until my knee pressed between his boots. His eyes tracked the movement. Cold. Sharp. Still dangerous, even with his pulse jumping under his throat.

"I’m cutting out the fragments," I said. "Then I’m forcing my gene-code through the wound before your body rejects it.