Joe opened his eyes to the rough pressure of a hand hooked under his arm.
“You need to get up,” a guard said gruffly, hauling him upright.
Pain flared through Joe’s ribs, sharp but different than before. Healing. Slow, imperfect, but there. He could feel Archer stirring faintly at the back of his mind, a distant presence that told him the wolfsbane was finally leaving his system. At least his body would knit itself back together now.
He climbed unsteadily to his feet as the guard’s fingers dug into his bicep.
“What’s going on?” Joe muttered. He hadn’t eaten since he arrived, and the weakness made the room tilt.
“Watts wants to see you,” the guard said, yanking him toward the cell door. “Don’t try anything.”
Joe scoffed. Try what? He could barely stay upright, let alone take down a gu
