The heat goes up a little more, as she twists his arm just right. "I'm the daughter of Logan. Yukio the ronin helped raise me. I don't have to make sense." Her other hand reaches around, avoiding the mouth, to delicately touch his eyelids and keep them closed. "Have you ever read the book 'Dune'?" The hoarse shout, in these circumstances, sounds like a whisper. And yes, they're still balanced enough not to fall off, even as the car turns and comes to a halt. Why would anyone ask, considering what she's been doing since childhood? "Where the boy's grandmother makes him put his hand in the hot little box, and he can feel his flesh blistering...cracking.. frying?" The fingertips pressed against the eyelids warm up -- not seriously badly, just hot enough to enhance the effect -- while the one on the wrist warms even more. "How many more did they send? What's the objective?"
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