“Stop struggling, Pendergast. I’m inspecting you.” “Why—you’re looking to see if I’ve been infected?” “How smart you are, Pendergast.” The sarcasm was strong in Malekh’s harsh voice, his abruptness. “What would I do without such insight?” “I wasn’t bitten. You have no need to be concerned—” “But I do.” Malekh’s hand was on the side of Remy’s face again, turning it so he could continue with his examination. “I worked you too hard during our sparring. If there were any lapses in your fighting just now, then I am to blame, am I not?”
