Page 117 of Specter Bred

He narrowed his eyes at me for a second, as if he knew there was more there, then shook his head.

"Jesus, kid," he muttered with a chuckle, his gaze briefly flicking toward Maeve.

"Farm Boy!" Graves’s voice cut across the field.

Alvarez’s brows lifted at the nickname, but he didn’t comment.

I just shrugged and jogged over. Maeve had stopped beside him too, arms crossed, sweat still slick on her skin from the morning drills. A few feet away, Redwood watched us, practically steaming.

Graves looked between the two of us, his expression unreadable.

"I’m pulling you both for a special training assignment."

Maeve’s brows knitted.

"For how long?" she asked.

"A few days."

That got everyone’s attention.

Redwood’s jaw clenched.

"You’ll be out in the field," Graves continued. "Pack light. Meet me here at 2000."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Uh... great, sir. Can I ask what exactly we’ll be doing?"

Graves leveled me with a flat stare.

"No. Specters don’t get briefed for comfort, Farm Boy. They adapt. You’ll know when you need to know."

"Got it," I said, grinning at him. "Minimal information, maximum suffering. Your specialty, sir."

Maeve snorted beside me.

Graves’s eyes narrowed on me.

"Try not to be such a fucking liability for once."

I grinned.

"No promises, sir."

"Pack light," Graves ordered.

"Don’t forget water," Maeve added at the same time.

We both looked at her.

Maeve stiffened, as if she’d caught herself stepping out of line.

"Sorry, sir," she muttered.

Graves gave her a slow look, unreadable.

Then his gaze cut back to me.