Silas kept staring at Salvar, his mouth slightly open. He was still processing, the weight above him, the shots still ringing faintly in his ears, the sheer improbability of the person currently lying across his chest when Patrick's voice cut through everything.
"They are after me." Patrick's voice cracked. "If I die, everyone else will be safe."
He moved to stand.
Silas shoved Salvar aside and sat up in one motion, his hand shooting out and locking around Patrick's wrist before he could get any further.
"Don't play hero, Patrick." His eyes were sharp, his grip firm, and the look he fixed on Patrick carried something far more dangerous than anger.
Patrick already pale, already trembling sank back down immediately, folding his knees up against his chest like a man trying to make himself smaller than his own fear.
Salvar, pushed sideways onto the ground, pulled his mask down and swore under his breath as he heaved for air. "Fuck, it's has been a while since I ran like that."
