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Wequie’s POV

“Fifty O-negatives, sixty A-negatives,” Lincoln lists lifelessly, “twenty B-negatives.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he did sound a little less dead than he usually did which was something I was still getting used to.

Ever since he’d gotten his hands on that little Kalem, he’d been slowly coming forth a little more with the beginnings of what I swore was a personality. Something I thought I’d never see from him, and yet here he was, sounding a little bit more like a person.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to see.

“I can get you a few bags of AB-negative,” I cut in making him suck in a sharp breath on the other end of the phone. I smile to myself as I spin in my office chair waiting for a response I knew would be amusing.

I had a few houses located all over the world to host me whenever life migrated me. Right now, I was in my apartment in the city near Malcolm’s house, I’d settled in recently since Lincoln woke back up.