No dice. But then, he knew that. A fighter like her, a scrapper, she won’t go down gentle. She reminds him, however distantly, of Prior, baby sister thrown to earth and left to die. Prior, who screamed and roared like a beast in the scrum, who’d use her teeth when she ran out of bullets.

Prior, who’d go for the obvious weakness just like this woman does. It sends pulsing, starburst aches through his skull: a curl of revulsion hot in his chest as she forgets his throat and goes straight for the place his eyes used to sit.

And in honor of his baby sister, Gabe leans forward and bites the goddamn hand that’s going for him.