I didn't pass math. Shit, I didn't pass anything. But I can figure that number in my head.

Know what that number equals?

Equals: Where the fuck do they get it a!!?

A question most folks dwell on from time to time. But most definitely not a question folks like to ask out loud. Ask that kind of question out loud and someone might hear you asking it. And whether you're Coalition, Society, Hood or Rogue, you don't want to be heard asking that question.

See, figure everyone comes up short from time to time. Everyone has their off quarters when they don't make quota. Which means everyone goes to the bank for a little extra now and again. Society, the Hood, they get pinched hard, can't keep their people healthy, they might be known to make a call, cut a deal.

Only in emergencies, mind you, but shit happens.

Don't it?

So who wants to rock that boat?

Answer: no one.

Coalition doesn't want anyone to know where it comes from. You had the lockdown on what everyone wanted, what everyone needed, would you want to share where it came from?

Don't lie. You're not that altruistic. No one is.

Society and Hood need a little help now and again, they can't afford to look nosy. Can't afford to have their people look nosy.

And Rogues? They cant afford to do anything makes anyone notice their unallied asses are hanging out in the wind waiting for someone to take a shot at them just because it will take one more mouth off the market.

It's there. We all know it's there. It's the thing that just about the whole fucking Clan structure spins around.

And we all pretend it doesn't exist.

Shhh.

Only someone crazy would poke into this shit. Lucky me, I know someone really fucking crazy.

I sit there.

I sit there some more.

I look at Sela.

—Shouldn't part of keeping her safe involve telling her when she's talking about doing something that will kill everyone?

I hold up my hand.

—No, never mind, I totally fucking forgot that your whole fucked-up Clan is based on trying to do something that's going to get everyone killed. —They have it, Joe.

I look at Amanda. —You already said that.

She turns in place, holding her drink over her head, rattling the ice cubes. —OK, OK, I know it's this total secret hush-hush thing. I know we're not supposed to talk about the hundred-pound pink poodle in the room.

She stops turning and spreads her arms. —But the whole point is that were seriously trying to change things.

She takes a sip.

—And you don't change things by doing what everyone has always done before.

She comes over and perches on the edge of her desk.

—So here's the deal: We need more blood. Plain and simple. I can get a lot through the lab, from medical supply houses, but not as much as you d think. They mostly deal in plasma and other blood components. And the Vyrus only feeds on whole blood. Did you know that? Tried it. Tried using plasma. Tried using platelet serum. Not what it wants. So we need more blood.

She blows out her cheeks.

—But the Coalition wont deal with us. We could pay like way over market price, but they won't even open a fucking dialogue. Which is super funny considering how they kissed my parents' and my asses for so many years before I started Cure.

She empties her glass. —So the thing is, we have to do something.

Sela steps forward. —If you tell anyone about any of this, Pitt.