Exhaling, Lex leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He gives his linked fists a long, considering look. “Remember when I took those blood samples from the West Enders?” The only thing that greets him is silence, and I watch as Pace hovers over him, brows knitted in confusion. “You found a hit?” he asks. “Already?” I raise my hand. “When the fuck did this happen?” Nobody keeps me in the loop anymore. Assholes.
