“Is the situation contained?”

Red, green, pause. Red, green, pause. “I’m not sure. Dave and Becks have guns trained on her head right now.”

“What, only the pair?”

“Alaric’s busy hiding behind the couch—”

“Hey!”

“—and I figured I’d try being the reasonable one for a change.”

“Really? How’s that going, then?”

Not well, muttered George.

“Not bad,” I said, wishing I had a way to glare at the inside of my own head. The lights were slowing down, lingering on green for longer and longer periods of time. “We’re just about done with the blood tests over here. Do you want to video conference in or something? Because it’s time to play twenty questions with Doc, and you might have some good ones.”

“I can’t.” There was genuine regret in his tone. This was news, happening right in our company headquarters, and as the head of the Newsies, Mahir had a serious jones for information. That was part of what made him so good at his job. “This is a secure conction, but if I go for a video link, it’ll attract attention, and I’ll have to answer questions.”

“I take it from your tone that this would be a bad idea right about now?”

The lights on Kelly’s unit settled on a firm, unblinking green. She held it up, smiling a little, like she’d known the answer all along. Dave lowered his guns, sliding them back into their holsters. Becks lowered one of hers, hesitated, and lowered the other. I gave her an approving nod. The Masons may not have taught me much about how to treat a guest, but they taught me not to shoot at them unless it was absolutely necessary.

Mahir sighed. “Yes. A very bad idea.”

“I told you not to marry her, Mahir.”

“I’m not having this conversation again.”

“Just saying, you didn’t have to worry about this shit when you lived the happy bachelor life. Look, I need to go—the Doc’s just checked out clean, so it’s probably time to find out what she’s doing here.”

“Call me when you know what’s going on.”

“Got it,” I said, and clicked off.

Kelly lowered her test unit, apparently satisfied that everyone had seen it, and said, “I’m clean. Do you have a biohazard receptacle I can dispose of this in?”

“It’s next to the medical supplies.” I walked toward the kitchen. “I need a Coke. Anybody else need anything before story time commences?”

No one did.

The kitchen gave me just enough privacy to feel comfortable saying quietly, “Can we try to keep the interjections down for a little bit? I don’t want Kelly thinking I’m crazy.” I paused. “Not yet, anyway.”

You have a plan? asked George.

“More making it up as I go along,” I replied, and grabbed my soda before turning to walk back into the living room.