A little fleck of black bile splashes Marcus' cheek and he bats it off unthinking, wipes his hand on his jeans. He shakes his head and stands, and he reaches over behind Joan, to the bathtaps. He twists them both.

Above the sound of the rushing water, he says flatly, "Holy water," and shoves the plug in place. The tub starts to fill. "No lasting damage to you. But it'll hurt. Weaken it."