Stealth surviving Cairax’s explosion, playing possum

Stealth’s cloak wrapped around her like a shroud. Parts of it had burned. He could see glimpses of dark skin where her bodysuit had been torn or charred away.
He set his fingers against her wrist to check for a pulse. She grabbed his arm and pulled herself up, the knife in her other hand aimed at his own throat. The blade scraped off his Adam’s apple before she stopped herself.
She took a few ragged breaths. A third of her mask was gone. He could see her cheekbone and the smooth line of her jaw and the edge of her ***s at the corner of her mouth.

Excerpt From Ex-Communication, pg 574
Peter Clines
https://books.apple.com/us/book/ex-communication/id635706546