It was bad enough having to think about the implications of what having the Wilde and nomads interested in him meant. But the deafening silence that followed DeVirgo's final word hung between them. Stoat had never quite known just how much threat, insinuation, obligation and fear a single word could contain, until now.
He looked DeVirgo straight in the eye.
"Yet." he repeated. "I really don't like the sound of that, Max." He studied DeVirgo intently, but DeVirgo stayed silent, letting all the implications sink in.
"Max, you're a bastard, you really are. You want me to let the bloody Wilde infect me, don't you? Why the hell would I want to let that happen, eh? Dammit, Max, all the evidence we have shows that once infected the human host is buggered. I think I might actually prefer to take the option of the gun! Give me a bloody good reason to consider it, or just shoot me."