She gave Devlin a jab with her elbow and he scooted away, mumbling sleepy excuses. She didn’t take it personally. Whatever else he might be, he was still a man and this was morning. How did she feel? Her monitors in the Panic Room told her she was fine, if a little worn out. Being in the body gave her a much clearer picture of the little aches, pains, and disorientation that persisted, but she knew she was much improved even from yesterday. “Are you hungry? You want to go get some food?” Devlin asked, scratching at his armpit, mostly as a means of hitching at the lie of his robe. He was hoping she’d go to the garderobe or something, give him a little privacy to take care of himself…and then he remembered she was psychic. “Plus, it’s my room, asshole!” Mara snapped, making him jump. “If you have to do that, do it somewhere else.” Breakfast. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to fight the crowd at the table, but the lure of solid food was strong. “And yes, go get me some food,”
