Mera lifted her head from my collarbone.
"Now."
"She's expecting me. I promised her answers."
"About what."
"About everything. What I am. The drain. All of it."
Mera's yellow eyes held mine in the half-dark of the back seat. The streetlights outside painted amber bars across her face every few seconds, illuminating then hiding, illuminating then hiding. Her tail tightened on my wrist.
"You're telling the Short Stack."
"I'm telling the Short Stack."
"Tonight."
"Tonight."
From the front seat, Cheon's typing stopped. The tablet screen reflected off the windshield in a pale blue rectangle. She turned her head just enough that I could see the edge of her profile, the clean line of her jaw, the way her loose hair fell against her neck.
"What specifically are you planning to tell her."
"The drain. The copy mechanism. The intimacy requirement. The fact that her Essentia tastes like vanilla and frost and she's been in my bloodstream since Friday."
