“Did it occur to anyone to at least check and see if I was still breathing?” Lucio pulled himself upright with a disgusted twitch, trying to shed the stench of death.
Tris gave him an appraising look, “No.”
“Dammit Tris,” Peter shoved past her to help Lucio to his feet.
“Hey, he said ‘immortal’, I thought he meant, ya know, immortal.” Tris stepped back as the pair headed over to one of the intact pews, wrinkling her nose at the stench. “If he’d said something like ‘I don’t stay dead’ or ‘I’m fond of instant reincarnations’ or something of the like, I’da been a bit better prepared.”
“He could have been unconscious.” Peter propped Lucio up against the arm of the pew and turned to glare at his partner. “Next time put a little more thought into being helpful and little less into picking apart the terminology.”
“Right, next thing you know he’ll be redefining vampire, and we’ll be out of a job.”
“And apparently the fact that would put me out of a job doesn’t factor into it.” Lucio snapped, using his unbroken hand to nudge the various fractures back into place so that they would heal correctly. He’d suffered through too many rebreaks to ignore the little things. “The next time I run into a pair of rouge bounty hunters in the middle of getting their asses kicked, I’ll make sure I point out exactly what flavor of immortal I am.”
“I was not–”
“Yeah, you were sunshine.”