Chapter 7: Chapter 7
The quiet of the consultation room was absolute after the door sighed shut. Steve and Andy stood there, slick and trembling, the cold air of the sterile space raising gooseflesh on their steaming skin. The profound emptiness inside them, where moments before they had been brutally, gloriously filled, was now replaced by a deep, humming fullness of a different kind. It wasn’t sexual satiation. It was power, banked and humming like a reactor core.
As they reached for their discarded clothes, the feeling clarified.
“You feel that?” Steve asked, his voice rough. He pulled his boxer briefs up over his thighs, which still trembled with aftershocks. “Not the… mess. Something else. Like a buzzing. In my teeth.”
Andy paused, a T-shirt halfway over his head. He went still, listening to his own body. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah I do. It’s like… a static charge under my skin. What is it?”
Steve finished dressing, the fine cotton of his shirt feeling abrasive against his hyper-sensitive skin. He closed his eyes, focusing past the gentle soreness in his ass, past the lingering taste of the doctor on his tongue. The buzz was there, a frequency just beyond hearing, a vibration in the marrow of his bones. It felt like a tool waiting to be grasped.
“Just watch me, Andy,” Steve said, a spark of wild curiosity in his eyes. “Let me try and respond to it. See if anything happens.”
Andy leaned against the damp desk, arms crossed over his spectacular chest, watching intently.
Steve took a slow breath. He didn’t fight the buzz; he invited it in. He relaxed his mental guard and let the strange energy suffuse him, hearing a simple, primitive desire: Don’t see me.
Andy gasped. His focused expression dissolved into bewildered shock. “What the fuck, dude?!” he exclaimed, his eyes darting around the space where Steve stood. “Where did you…?”
Steve let the feeling go, the connection severing with a slight internal pop. “What happened?” he asked, taking a step forward, his heart hammering against his ribs.
“You disa-fucking-peared, dude!” Andy pushed off the desk, walking to where Steve stood and waving a hand through the air as if checking for a hologram.
Steve laughed, a shaky, exhilarated sound. “What, like went invisible?”
“Not quite…” Andy squinted, struggling to articulate it. “It’s like my eyes wouldn’t rest on you. I knew something was there, but trying to look at you was like trying to grab smoke. My brain just… slid right off.”
“Holy shit.” Steve fumbled for his phone, hands unsteady. He propped it against a water carafe on the desk, set it to record, and backed up. “Okay, again.”
He repeated the process, concentrating on that buzzing hum, channeling it into that same simple command. He held it for a ten count, then released.
They huddled over the phone, rewinding the video. On the screen, Steve never vanished. He stood there, solid. But as he focused, his outline did seem to shimmer, a faint heat-haze distortion that made the wall behind him waver slightly. Then it stabilized.
“So I guess I can affect people around me,” Steve murmured, awe colouring his voice. “Stop them from noticing me. Fuck me. Are we turning into like… superheroes?!” The last word came out in an excited near-yell.
Andy barked a laugh, grabbing Steve’s shoulder and squeezing. “This is fucking insane!”
“Okay, your turn,” Steve said, putting the phone away. “Reach for it.”
Andy’s grin faded into concentration. He closed his eyes, his wrestler’s stance going perfectly still. Steve watched him, seeing the ripple of muscle in his jaw as he clenched it. A moment passed, then another.
“Well?” Andy asked, opening one eye.
“I can’t see anything,” Steve said, circling him. “How does it feel to you?”
Andy thought, his brow furrowed. “I feel kinda… heavy? I guess? Solid. Like my feet are roots going right down into the floor.”
Intrigued, Steve reached out and placed a hand on Andy’s chest. He pushed. Andy didn’t budge. Not a millimeter. Steve increased the pressure, then leaned his weight into it, muscles corded in his arm and shoulder. It was like trying to push over a marble statue. Andy stood, immovable, a placid smile touching his lips.
“Fuck, Andy,” Steve grunted, shoving with all his transformed strength. Nothing. “It’s like you’re anchored to the planet.”
Andy let the feeling go with an exhale. “Try now.”
Steve, still applying force, stumbled forward as Andy yielded easily, catching him. They both laughed, the sound echoing in the too-clean room, and collapsed into a hard, back-slapping hug. The feeling of it—of this impossible, shared secret—was as potent as any orgasm.
“Do you think this is permanent?” Andy asked as they finally gathered themselves and headed for the door, their steps lighter, their bodies humming with potential. “Or just a… charge from the elders?”
“We’ll have to see,” Steve said, pushing the door open. The cool, plant-scented air of the atrium was a relief. “But I hope we can keep testing what we can do. Maybe there’s more.”
They walked across the vast, empty space, their footsteps loud in the quiet. The receptionist with the knowing eyes gave them a slight, secretive nod as they passed. They pushed through the heavy copper doors, and the ordinary suburban afternoon sunlight hit them like a blanket.
They reached Steve’s car, a sensible, ten-year-old sedan parked between two gleaming SUVs. Steve stopped, keys in hand, and stared at it.
“Okay,” he said, his voice dripping with newfound disdain. “First thing we need to do is replace this fucking car.”
Andy snorted. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Look at it,” Steve said, gesturing as if the vehicle were a diseased animal. “It’s sad. It’s run-down. The color is called ‘beige mist.’ Why have I never noticed?”
“Maybe because it fitted your life before,” Andy said, sliding into the passenger seat as Steve unlocked it. “But it doesn’t fit the life of an Avenger?”
Steve play-punched him on the shoulder, a tap that still had enough force behind it to make Andy rock in his seat. “Shut up,” Steve laughed, starting the engine, which coughed pathetically. “Let’s go.”
They drove to a cluster of high-end dealerships on the outskirts of the city. An hour later, they were driving away in a sleek, gunmetal grey Audi e-tron GT, its electric motor a near-silent whine of potential. The transaction had been unsettlingly simple. Steve had walked in, pointed at the car, and wired the full amount from his phone without a flicker of hesitation. The salesman, a slick young man in a too-tight suit, had stared, his commission-based glee warring with sheer confusion. The symbiont, it seemed, had not only rewritten their bodies but had subtly edited their sense of fiscal proportion. The old Steve would have calculated payments for months. The new Steve simply wanted the tool that matched his new reality.
As Steve guided the powerful machine onto the highway, Andy’s checked his phone, which he realised had been on silent. There was a text from an unknown number: Hey. It’s Eddie. Just… wow. Thank you. Here’s my number.
Andy grinned and showed Steve. “We need to go get him.”
Steve smiled, a predatory, satisfied curl of his lips.“Text him. Tell him we’re coming.”
Andy typed. Heading to you now. Be there in 20.
The reply was almost instantaneous. Perfect timing. Just closing up.
Eddie was waiting for them on the curb near the mall’s west exit, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked different in the dusk light—less like a shocked victim, more like a coiled spring. His new physique filled out his jeans and leather jacket in a way that drew glances from passing shoppers. He slid into the back seat of the silent Audi, his eyes wide.
“Holy shit, guys. New ride? This is serious.” His voice was laced with excitement, but beneath it, Steve detected a thread of anxiety.
“Felt necessary,” Steve said, meeting Eddie’s eyes in the rearview mirror. The connection was instant, a crackle of shared energy in the enclosed space. “You okay? You look… wired.”
Eddie’s grin was tight. He ran a hand through his lush, dark curls. “I’m… yeah. Great.Amazing. Just…” He faltered, his bravado fading. “Weird shit’s happening.”
“Join the club,” Andy said, turning in his seat. “What kind of weird?”
Eddie chewed his lip. He looked from Steve to Andy, as if gauging their trust. Then, with a decisive nod, he unzipped his jacket. He was still wearing the graphic t-shirt underneath. He took a deep, cantering breath, his gaze going distant, focusing inward.
For a second, nothing happened. Then, two dark, wet circles rapidly bloomed over the peaks of his pectorals, right through the fabric of his shirt. They spread, soaking the cotton until it clung transparently to the large, pink discs of his nipples. The wetness gleamed in the car’s interior light, a clear, slick fluid that beaded and dripped. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it began to recede, the fabric drying from the edges inward, as if the moisture was being sucked back into his skin. In ten seconds, only two faint damp spots remained, then nothing.
Eddie let out a shaky breath and looked at them, his expression a mixture of fear and bewildered pride. “I’m not sure,” he said, giving a half-hearted laugh that died in his throat. “It started a couple hours ago. I get… this ache. A full feeling. Like they’re… I don’t know, engorged. And if I focus, that happens. It doesn’t smell like anything. It just… leaks.”
Steve and Andy were silent, the hum of the car the only sound. The implications settled over them, dark and fascinating.
“Does it hurt?” Andy asked, his voice low.
“No,” Eddie said. “It’s the opposite. It feels… fucking incredible. Like a release.” His eyes darkened. “It makes me hard. Instantly.”
As if on cue, Steve saw Eddie adjust himself in his jeans, the thick outline of his cock clearly visible even in the dim light. The scent in the car shifted, subtle at first, then undeniable. It was the same musky, clean, deeply male scent that Steve and Andy now produced, but laced with something new—a sweet, almost milky undertone that made Steve’s mouth water and his own cock stir heavily against his thigh.
The shared look between Steve and Andy was all the communication needed. The testing wasn’t over. It was just beginning.
“Let's get you back to our place,” Steve said, his voice full of anticipation.
The Audi glided through the evening streets, a silent predator carrying its charged cargo. Eddie’s new scent, that sweet-musky milk, permeated the cabin, thick and urgent. Andy shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, his cock achingly hard against his zipper. Steve’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his own arousal a persistent, demanding throb. The connection between them wasn’t just emotional now; it was chemical, a circuit begging to be closed.
Pulling into the driveway of their house, Steve felt a similar reaction to how he’d felt seeing his old car. The tidy suburban split-level, with its neat lawn and generic welcome mat, suddenly looked absurd. It just didn’t work with this new life that was unfolding before him and Andy. And Eddie for that matter. It was a shell from a faded, weaker existence.
“Home sweet home,” Andy muttered, his voice strained, as he practically launched himself out of the car.
Steve had noticed, and sensed through a growing connection with him, that whilst Eddie had gained confidence as a host, he hadn’t lost any of his goodness. He was still polite, eager and friendly. It hadn’t converted all of that into privilege and arrogance. Maybe that was the sign of a worthy host. “Come on,” Steve said, his voice gentler than he felt. “Let’s get inside.”
Inside, they could all relax. The familiar living room felt small, cluttered with the mundane artifacts of a life that no longer fit. Andy soon had Eddie's coat and t-shirt off and was sitting him in the centre of the couch. He glanced at Steve and they shared a moment, both knowing exactly what they intended to do. This was a necessary communion.
Eddie was full of questions, his hands fluttering nervously over his own chest. “Is something wrong? Is it leaking out of me? Am I going to lose this so soon?” His breath hitched. “Maybe I’m not worthy?”
Steve shushed Eddie, crawling onto the couch beside him, a solid, calming presence. He placed a hand on Eddie’s stubbled cheek. “It’s all going to be ok,” he said, his thumb stroking the line of Eddie’s jaw. “This is just… part of it. Let it happen.”
Andy and Steve took a seat either side of Eddie and lowered their heads. The scent coming from Eddie's nipples was even stronger than they'd experienced from any of their own juices, and they now could compare it to Doctor Armitage and Lin's excretions. It wasn't as strong as that, but it was close—a potent, intoxicating nectar. Steve and Andy each lapped at Eddie's nipples, tasting the fluid. A clear, slightly salty slick burst onto their tongues, carrying the concentrated essence of the symbiont’s unique energy.
All three men groaned at once, the sound a low, harmonized vibration of pleasure. It caused both Steve and Andy to latch on to Eddie and start to suck. They sealed their mouths over the hard nubs, their tongues working rhythmically, drawing out the flow. The fluid started to come quickly, a steady, generous seep that filled their mouths.
Eddie's back arched off of the sofa, thrusting his chest out, making Steve and Andy take even more of his flesh into their mouths. His big hands came up to cradle the backs of their heads, fingers tangling in Steve’s beard and Andy’s blond waves, holding them to him. “Oh fuck, yeah,” Eddie slurred, his head lolling back against the couch cushion. “Suck it out of me.”
As they swallowed, they could feel the same buzzing return they had felt at the doctor's office. A sharp, clean energy, like distilled lightning, coursed down their throats and into their cores. Eddie is empowering them, just like the two elder hosts had. The circuit was completing, power flowing from the newest host back into them, a mutual feeding that made their own cocks jump and weep inside their pants.
Eddie was mindless with pleasure, his hips grinding helplessly against the air. “Pants… fuck, get my pants off,” he begged, his voice ragged. “Need your hands on me.”
Andy could see Eddie's immense cock straining against the denim, a thick, unmistakable ridge. Steve and Andy managed to remove Eddie's pants without stopping their suckling. It was a clumsy, concerted effort. Andy yanked the button and zipper open while Steve tugged the jeans and boxers down over Eddie’s powerful hips and thick thighs, revealing the full, glorious extent of him. His cock sprang free, a heavy, veined shaft that curved up toward his navel, the head already glistening.
They gave Eddie all of the attention he could need. Steve kept his mouth fastened on Eddie’s left nipple, sucking deep, while his hand found Eddie’s monstrous cock. Andy, still working on the right nipple, wrapped his fist around the base. They both started stroking his cock, one at the tip and one at the base, Eddie's cock so big, Steve and Andy's hands never even touched. They worked him in a disjointed, hungry rhythm.
Eddie's precum was also flowing, a continuous, slick ooze that covered Steve and Andy's hands and spurted in sticky strands onto Eddie's heaving torso. The smell was overwhelming, a warehouse of masculine need. Steve and Andy started to spread the fluid over Eddie and each other, their hands sliding over the hard planes of Eddie’s stomach, his thighs, his chest. They freed their own cocks, adding to the mixture of fluids, smearing everything together into a glistening, slippery mess.
“My hole,” Eddie begged, his voice a broken whimper. “Please, touch my hole.” He easily hinged his hips and brought his legs up from the floor, holding them back towards himself just using his abs, presenting himself completely. His asshole, already glistening with its own thick, natural lubrication, winked at them, puffy and eager.
Steve and Andy's hands were soon rubbing Eddie's hole, smearing the thick lubrication it was oozing all over Eddie's cheeks, taint and balls. The slickness was incredible, a perfect, silky grease that allowed their fingers to slide without resistance. Then they started to finger him, first one finger from each of them, then two, scissoring him open.
Eddie soon relaxed into a loose, wet sleeve that Steve and Andy quickly worked up to sliding their full hands in and out of, burying their hands deep to the knuckles, feeling the incredible, clamping heat of him from the inside. Their wrists bumped as they worked him open wider.
Eddie started to babble, a stream of incoherent, pleasured sounds. Creamy saliva flowed from his mouth, over his chin and down over his chest. Steve and Andy licked it up whilst still sucking Eddie's big juicy pecs, their tongues lapping at the mixed fluids, drinking him down. Eddie was coming undone from the attention and pleasure, his body racked by continuous, shallow tremors.
Then Eddie's babble turned to words, but said without Eddie's usual tones and cadences. His voice flattened, took on a resonant, almost mechanical quality. His eyes, rolled back in ecstasy, saw nothing in the room. “The warehouse on Terminal Drive,” he chanted, the words dripping from his slack, wet mouth. “Unit fourteen. Cassandra Hale. She will solve the problem.” A sharp twitch seized his body. “Mitch Rourke. Beware him.” The words hung in the sex-thick air, a stark, cryptic intrusion.
Then Eddie came.
His orgasm wasn’t a spurt but an eruption. His huge cock convulsed, and a torrent of thick, white cum shot out in violent pulses, splattering across his own neck and chin, painting Steve’s bald head and shoulder, soaking Andy’s forearm. It kept coming, a seemingly endless fountain, pooling on his stomach and dripping onto the couch. The clamping rhythm of his ass around their buried hands milked his prostate dry. His body seized, locked in a rigid arch for a long, suspended moment, before collapsing back into the ruined couch, utterly spent.
His body seized, locked in a rigid arch for a long, suspended moment, before collapsing back into the ruined couch, utterly spent.
Silence pooled in the room, broken only by their ragged breathing and the wet, sticky sounds of their bodies. Eddie lay between them, a beautiful ruin, his eyes glazed and distant. A profound emptiness radiated from him, a hollowed-out vacuum that both Steve and Andy felt like a physical pull in their own guts. It was more than just post-orgasmic lethargy; it was a drain, a sucking void where his vibrant new energy had been.
Their own need, banked and simmering from consuming his essence, now roared into an urgent demand. They needed release, but more than that, they needed to fill him back up.
“He’s running on empty,” Andy said, his voice hushed with concern as he carefully extracted his hand from Eddie’s slick, loosened hole.
“We fix that,” Steve replied, already moving. He stood, his own body gleaming with sweat and Eddie’s spend, and pulled out his phone. He quickly opened his notes app, his fingers flying over the screen. ‘Warehouse, Terminal Drive, Unit 14. Cassandra Hale. Mitch Rourke. Beware him.’ The words Eddie had chanted felt cold and significant, a secret spoken in the heat of passion. He wouldn’t forget them.
While Steve typed, Andy finished undressing, kicking his jeans and boxers aside. His cock, thick and angrily hard, bobbed against his stomach. He looked at Steve, a silent question in his eyes.
“You first,” Steve said, putting his phone aside and beginning to strip off his own soaked clothes. “Get in there.”
Andy needed no further encouragement. He moved between Eddie’s sprawled legs, which still hung open limply from the couch arm. He guided the broad, swollen head of his cock to Eddie’s well-used entrance, which glistened with a mix of their fluids and Eddie’s own natural lubricant. With a single, smooth push, he slid inside, the tight, wet heat swallowing him whole in one effortless motion.
Eddie’s body jerked, a shallow, reflexive spasm. A soft, broken groan trickled from his lips. His eyelids fluttered. The invasion, the filling, seemed to jump-start a faint spark within him.
Steve, now naked, settled on the couch beside Eddie’s head. He leaned down, capturing Eddie’s slack mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. He let his saliva flow freely, a conscious transfer, knowing from their experience with Lin and the doctor that it carried energy, a lifeline. Eddie’s throat worked instinctively, swallowing as Steve fed him.
Andy began to fuck, his movements initially slow and deep, then gaining speed as his own peak rushed toward him. The sight of Steve feeding Eddie, combined with the incredible, clutching tightness around his cock, had him teetering on the edge. He’d been there since tasting Eddie’s milk.
“Gonna fill you up, Eddie,” Andy grunted, his hips slapping hard against Eddie’s ass. “Gonna pump you so fucking full.”
His orgasm crashed over him with sudden, violent force. He slammed in to the hilt, his body locking as his cock pulsed, jetting thick ropes of cum deep into Eddie’s channel. He cried out, grinding his pelvis hard against Eddie’s ass, milking every last spurt into him.
When Andy finally pulled out, he left Eddie’s hole gaping beautifully, a slick, well-used pink pucker already weeping with the mixture of lube and his own fresh seed. It was an open invitation.
Steve broke the kiss, giving Eddie’s lips a final lick. He moved down, positioning himself at that inviting entrance. He pushed forward without hesitation, his own substantial cockhead parting the softened ring of muscle and sliding in with a wet, easy schlick.
The feeling was immense. He was fucking into a space already stretched and warmed by Andy, a channel freshly flooded with seed. As he began to piston his hips, a powerful thought crystalized in his mind: Fill the space. All of it. He focused on that, on the sensation of his cock plunging into the incredible, velvety heat, and he felt a strange, thickening response.
His cock began to grow.
It wasn’t a subtle change. He felt it swelling, expanding, stretching Eddie even further open on the downstroke. Eddie gasped beneath him, his hands coming up to clutch at Steve’s forearms. His eyes, which had been hazy, snapped into focus.
“Fuck… Steve… more,” Eddie breathed, his voice regaining strength. “It’s… it’s getting bigger. Don’t stop.”
Andy, kneeling beside them, leaned in and kissed Eddie again, sharing his own saliva, feeding more energy back into their source. Steve watched them connect, felt his own monstrously engorged cock pistoning in and out of Eddie’s impossibly accommodating hole, and grinned with fierce, primal joy.
He looked down at the junction of their bodies. His cock was indeed larger, a truly daunting thickness that stretched Eddie to a breathtaking diameter, the pale skin of Eddie’s ass pulled taut around the root. Steve fucked him with deep, measured strokes, savoring the overwhelming tightness, the glorious friction.
“Take it all,” Steve growled, his control fraying. The pressure built at the base of his spine, a dam about to burst. “Here it comes, Eddie.”
He drove in one last, deep time, burying himself to the balls, and erupted. His orgasm was a torrent, a floodgate ripping open. He poured into Eddie, adding his massive load to Andy’s already pooling inside him. He grunted with each violent pulse, his body shuddering, filling Eddie until he felt overfull.
When it was over, they all simply breathed for a moment, connected and sated. Steve slowly pulled out, his spent cock leaving a messy, dripping trail. None of them felt the usual post-coital lethargy. Instead, a clean, vibrant energy buzzed through their veins, a full-circuit revitalization.
Eddie sat up, wiping his mouth, looking alert and powerful again. “Jesus Christ,” he exhaled, a laugh bubbling up. “Thank you. Both of you. I was… gone for a minute there.”
“We have to thank you,” Steve said, standing and offering Eddie a hand up. “What you gave us… that milk. It’s like a battery jump. We only felt that kind of charge from the elder hosts earlier today.”
Andy nodded, pulling on his boxers. “Yeah. Neither of us can do anything like that. That’s all you, man.”
Eddie looked down at his own chest, then back up, a blush of pride coloring his cheeks. “A special talent?” he said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Fuck. I’ve never had a special talent. Not one that felt… important.”
Steve and Andy shared a knowing look. The silent communication between them was effortless now, a product of their shared transformation.
“Well,” Steve said, turning to Eddie with a smirk. “We’ve got something to show you, too. Special talents of our own. Very new. We don’t really understand them yet.”
Eddie’s eyes lit up with eager curiosity. “Show me.”
Steve walked to the center of the room, facing Eddie and Andy. He closed his eyes, tuning out the mundane sounds of the house—the fridge’s hum, a car passing outside. He focused inward, finding that peculiar hum, that buzzing frequency at the edge of his perception. He didn’t fight it or command it this time. He simply invited it forward, letting it wash over his conscious mind.
He heard Eddie’s sharp intake of breath. He opened his eyes to see Andy smiling. Steve then turned and walked calmly into the kitchen. He released the sensation, let the buzz recede, and poked his head back around the doorway.
Andy burst out laughing. Eddie jumped up from the couch, his jaw slack. “What the fuck?!” Eddie yelled, pointing. “You were just… you were there and then my brain just… skipped over you! Like a fucking glitch!”
Steve walked back in, grinning. “So I gather.”
“Actual fucking superheroes!” Eddie whooped, tears of joyous excitement welling in his eyes. “I fucking knew it! The comics were right!” He danced a little jig, his still-naked, gloriously transformed body bouncing with glee. “Okay, I want to know more about that,” Eddie said, catching his breath. “But I really want to know what you can do now.” He turned his excited gaze on Andy.
Andy took a deep, centering breath and let it out slowly. He planted his feet firmly on the carpet, relaxed his shoulders, and sought that same internal hum. He focused on the feeling of density, of immovable mass, of roots sinking deep into the earth’s core.
Eddie stared at him, his eyes darting over Andy’s form, searching for a visible change. He squinted. “What? What am I missing?”
“Push me over,” Andy said, his voice calm, a grin playing on his lips.
Eddie, still riding the high of discovery, didn’t hesitate. He put both hands on Andy’s solid chest and shoved with all his newfound strength. The shove would have sent a normal man, even a strong one, stumbling backward. Andy didn’t move. Not a fraction of an inch. Eddie pushed again, grunting with effort, leaning his whole weight into it.
It was like trying to push the house itself. Andy was rooted, firmer than stone, utterly immovable.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Eddie breathed, his own cock giving an interested twitch against his thigh. He looked from Andy’s smug face to Steve’s. “Does that mean that I…?”
“Well,” Steve said, his tone shifting to something more serious. “I think it might have already happened. Did you feel a buzzing in your head during that last session? When you… said those things?”
Eddie’s excitement dampened. He nodded slowly, the memory of the prophecy returning. “Yeah. A buzz, then… like a white noise channel in my brain. Then words just… came out.”
“Do you remember what you said?” Steve asked gently.
Eddie shook his head, his expression now troubled. “No. It was like listening to someone else talk through me.”
Steve picked up his phone, opened the notes app, and turned the screen toward Eddie. “I think you might have predicted some important things, Eddie.”
Eddie read the words aloud, his voice a hollow whisper. “The warehouse on Terminal Drive. Unit fourteen. Cassandra Hale. She will solve the problem. Mitch Rourke. Beware him.” He looked up, fear and wonder warring in his eyes. “What problem? Who are these people?”
Steve met Andy’s gaze. The playful energy was gone, replaced by a cold, purposeful focus. “I don’t know,” Steve said. “But we’re going to find out.”