Dylan glances sharply in the direction of the door. He immediately regrets the motion, headache flaring white-hot behind his eyes, blurring his vision for an instant before it recedes.

When he recovers, he swallows thickly, rakes his tongue over his teeth and, very deliberately and very slowly, returns his attentions to Merritt. He tries for a wry smile; it mostly translates as strained. "Whatever gave you that idea?"