Gabriel leaned toward the projection, visibly delighted. "I heard that."
There was a pause.
Then Liam muttered, "Of course you did."
Damian's expression softened in a way that made Arik's chest ache. "How are you feeling, Liam?"
"Poisoned, betrayed, and professionally curious."
Gabriel nodded gravely. "A healthy diagnostic range."
Arik walked back into the bedroom, hair damp, shirt open at the throat. Liam stood near the bed in fresh clothes someone had delivered, pale and unsteady, but upright through sheer spite.
Arik moved toward him.
Liam lifted a finger.
Arik stopped.
Gabriel watched this with open fascination. Damian looked like he was trying not to smile.
"Do not look entertained," Arik told them.
"We are not," Damian lied.
Liam glanced at the projection. "He was about to hover."
"He does that," Gabriel said. "Bite him if necessary."
Arik looked at the ceiling.
Liam barely swayed.
Arik caught it anyway, and so did the parents.
