Page 117 of Remnants: Disruption
“Goodbye Percy—” I say but freeze when I see it.
“We need to go,” Mary whispers, and I nod, letting her pull me out of the line.
We make it down the flight of stairs to the street before she turns to me.
“She had no arm,” I hiss, glancing behind us at the attendees, but no one watches us leave.
“Yes, she lost it in—” Mary begins, but I shake my head.
“Omen took her biological one. But when she—” I huff out a breath. “When she died, Omen had torn out her bionic one.”
“I do not understand.”
“She wasn’t buried with her bionic arm. She’d been in DAEMON right before Omen had hunted us down. Omen had wantedher. She’d been trackingher. She’d asked for Percy in exchange for letting me go.”
Mary watches me like I’m going insane.
“She could store information on that arm, Mary,” I say, glancing around us before continuing. “Whatever she had on that device was enough that Darkrend sent Omen after her.”
Chapter 45
Intimate
November 11 th , 1030 A.D., Mid-Morning
She can never know. It will only get her killed. And that cannot happen.
Private Journal of Bloody Mary, Recovered 1030 A.D.
Idon’t know that Trish and Marla will ever quite understand what their intervention did for me. Sure, I knew my depression was bad. I knew I’d given up.
But between Azazel’s exposure therapy and the gals’ wake up moment, I feel okay for the first time in years. And it helps, too, that I’ve had a meal or two at their house every day since.
Percy’s funeral had been a mental setback, but the ladies hadn’t forced me to talk about it yet. Though I can tell they’re both chomping at the bit.
“Earth to Arya,” Marla says, and I nearly shriek when she’s right beside me.
I glance around and realize Ty has left for the day, leaving just Marla and I at the house until Marla’s shift at the bar.
“You zoned again,” she says, returning her eyes to her sketchbook. “Though it made it easier to draw you.”
“Keep telling a gal that, and she’ll think you’re flirting,” I snort, letting my shadows play and move through the house.
“Don’t you dare,” Marla says, a somewhat menacing growl leaving her throat. “I still haven’t heard the end of that.”
“I just like having something to hold over you,” I say, and weave the shadow around the coffee carafe, refreshing my cup from across the room.
The fine “motor” skills, as they were, seemed to be the ones that I struggled with the worst before reaching Tempest. That and the spirits, of course.
But with the last few days spent here messing with minute motions, or in the colosseum wrangling spirits, I feel like I might be mastering these powers after all.
Certainly, better than letting them control me.
“Are we going to go down to the colosseum again?” Marla asks, and I glance over at her.
She had wanted to see the spirits, and I’d obliged.
Except then she’d actuallyseenthem and I think it scared the shit out of her.
