"Good," Eames says, because that's exactly what he wanted to hear. He still has his doubts, but Finnick's always proved himself capable where the bloodsuckers are concerned. He remembers the first time they met, and the kind of venom Finnick harboured for them.

(One could wonder if that's related to what he's just told Eames, but he won't speculate. It could just as easily be common sense.)

He takes a sip of his beer, a thoughtful frown on his face. "They're out of control. Without the Night Council's support, it means something can finally be done."