I shook my head. His face wasn't empty like a zombie's, in fact he was smiling, and so very present in his skin, but I'd called him, and even a gun barrel against his heart hadn't stopped that order. I was topping him. He moved it around so he could see his eyes, his mouth, and there was some change to his nose that he could see and I couldn't.
The one to blame, she offered. Just thinking that hard made it curl to life, a tiny flare. We've got the privacy, now talk. His arms were traced with bites and scratches, so it looked like he was wearing red gloves all the way up to his shoulders.
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