reek of burned flesh... Yeah. That security deposit was gone for good.
"Sorry," I apologized, to no one in particular, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other on the way out of the room.
I heard a dull boom from below us, somewhere in the bowels of the ship, and looked at David's tense expression.
"It's not your problem," he said.
Whether it was or not, he wasn't going to let me claim responsibility of any kind.
"Are we sinking?" I asked.
We were sitting on my narrow bed - me lying on my stomach, David propped on the edge, looking down at me. The ship was rocking much worse than before, slamming into waves with such force that I swore I could hear metal groaning somewhere in the bowels of the vessel. Of course, that was stupid; big as this thing was, I'd never know if something was going catastrophically wrong. The iceberg that had killed the Titanic hadn't even knocked over glasses in the dining room.
Of course, the Titanic hadn't been wallowing in massively turmoiled seas, beset from all sides, and between being driven toward an even worse predator. We were like a whale being stalked by a school of sharks. Sooner or later, they'd take out enough bites to make a difference.
"No," David said, and stroked my hair. "No, we're not sinking."
"You think the mark's gone," I murmured, and closed my eyes. "It's not. I can still feel it." My mind kept wanting to shut down, lock itself off, focus on summoning up its strength for healing, but I couldn't seem to let it go.
David shifted. He probably touched my shoulder, or at least the bandages over the open wound, but I couldn't feel anything. "I know," he said. "I can see it on the aetheric."
"It's bigger."
"Yes."
"I said I'd kill you, didn't I?" He didn't answer. "I meant it. I really did, David. The only thing that's stopping me is the containment. You understand?"
"I do." He brushed fingers gently over my forehead. "It's not your fault."
"It will be," I said. I felt a distant, inescapable grief, but like everything else, it was arm's length from me. I really couldn't feel anything. "How's Kevin doing?" David was silent for a long enough minute that I had to fight to stay awake to hear the answer. "He's doing well." My lover sounded surprised. Well, I supposed I was a little bit surprised, too. Pleasantly so. "One of the skins has already been destroyed. They're hunting the other one in the hold. They're getting close."
"No problems?" It was odd to be worried by that, but I was. Things never went that easily, did they? Not in my experience.
"If there are, it's for someone else to handle," he said. "Rest. We'll see to things." He seemed confident. I went over that in my head like a string of worry beads, and finally said, "You did warn Lyle, right? Not to take the skin on directly?" David frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you remember?" I rolled over on my side to stare up at him. "These things are lethal to Djinn. David, you have to pull the Djinn back. Let the Wardens handle this one."
"I will."
Was he just humoring me? It was understandable if he was; I wasn't sounding overly competent just now. Too tired, too sick, too much in shock. Besides, I was compromised.
Even burning the tattoo right off my body hadn't destroyed the link between me and Bad Bob. I wasn't sure anything, short of my horrific and gruesomely painful death, would. That meant I couldn't really count on my mind being my own, or be sure that Bad Bob wasn't hooked into me like some kind of long-distance spy bug. I'd be perfectly placed for that kind of duty. He could use me, and there would be nothing - nothing - I could do to stop him.
Bad Bob could use me as the hammer to shatter the entire Warden organization, not to mention the Djinn. Through my link to David, I compromised their safety, too.
"Jo." David must have known what was going through my mind, because his tone and his touch were both gentle. "You're alive. Don't underestimate your ability to come through this. I don't."
"You want to be there, with them."
"My place is here."
"Your place is at the front of the battle. You're not Jonathan. You don't sit things out." I couldn't quite suppress a smile. "Being the Boss of Bosses doesn't really suit you, you