"You have second-degree burns covering about fifteen percent of your body. Your mana reserves are depleted from the explosion you created. You've lost blood from the leg wound and you're running on nothing but adrenaline and spite." I sat up, ignoring the protest from my own injuries. "I have a healing ability that's already working on my damage. My mana's at thirty-four percent, which isn't great but isn't empty. And I've been training with a Platinum-rank psychopath for three weeks, which means I know exactly how long I can stay awake before my performance starts degrading."
"And how long is that?"
"Longer than you."
Blair stared at me. The distant fire painted her face in orange and shadow, catching the hollows under her eyes and the tension in her jaw. She wanted to argue. I could see it building behind those blue eyes, the Davenport instinct to never accept help, never show weakness, never let anyone see the cracks in the armor.
