Paco shot up into a sitting position as soon as Brenda unstrapped him, grinding the heel of his palm against his ear where the Yeerk had just been, muttering fragments of prayers in English and Spanish. He wanted to get as far away from that thing as possible. Yanking himself free of the ankle bonds, he hopped off the table and began to pace, clenching his hands at his temples and breathing hard.

Oh man. Oh man, he had really screwed the pooch there.

He needed a hug. Paco was man enough to admit it to himself, even if he wasn't going to say it out loud. He turned and threw his arms around Brenda and just held on.

"Sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "Sorry."