“Their blood really is more like sap; it thickens very quickly on contact with air,” said Toni. “If she pricks herself on the syringe, she might block it to the point where I can’t clean it, and we need to be able to reuse these needles.”

She’d been thinking ahead this whole time, I realized. Ever since she had decided to switch sides, she’d been planning for the moment when she’d have to run with us without being consumed. It would have been admirable, if it hadn’t been so damn chilling.

Tahlia opened her mouth. Toni maneuvered the tip of the syringe inside and depressed the plunger. The smell of human blood wafted through the air, only slightly filtered by the loose seal of Tahlia’s lips. I closed my eyes, swallowing a moan. Jeff wasn’t quite as successful. The sound of his yearning echoed through the room. When I opened my eyes again, Mandy was pressed against the wall with Graham in front of her, shielding her, while David was frozen in his seat, looking like he wanted to fade into the wallpaper.

Only Toni looked unbothered … but then, Toni had encountered one of the special flowers when she was a child, had been changed and defined by it as much as any of us had. Maybe we no longer had the power to frighten her. Maybe that, too, was the way things needed to be.

The door banged open. Everyone jumped, even Toni, although she had the foresight to pull the empty syringe away from Tahlia as she did, meaning no one actually got stabbed. Lucas, standing in the doorway with a paper bag in his hand, scowled at us all.

“What?” he demanded.

“We thought you ran,” said Jeff bluntly.

“I thought about it,” said Lucas. “But even if I did, there’s no way I could get those assholes”—he nodded toward Mandy and Graham—“to come, so what’s the point? I’d just get swept up by the government and interrogated until I pissed myself. May as well stay here and try to keep my friends alive.”

“So where did you go?” asked Jeff.

“7–Eleven.” Lucas held up his bag. “I have sodas, I have sugary snacks, and I have information, if you’d like to let me shut the door and share with the other children.”

“We would appreciate that very much,” said Tahlia. Her voice sounded steadier than it had since she’d been shot. I glanced down at her. The color was coming back to her cheeks, and she was holding her head up without my help. More surprisingly, the hole in her shoulder appeared to be shrinking. No: not just appeared to be. As I watched, a root no thicker than a hair flung itself across the void in her skin, beginning to put out more roots, patching the damage. I glanced at Toni.