Page 127 of Remnants: Disruption
“I’m six-hundred and ninety-six years old,” her voice is almost hollow as she continues to stare off.
Instead of being cool about it, I inhale a gallon of spit and barely save myself with a rough coughing fit.
Cass reaches for a glass of water and hands it to me with a steadied hand.
I chug it gratefully and try to think of something to say.
“I knew you were one of the first Remnants,” my voice is hoarse as I clear my throat again.
“Ivan had been, actually,” she says softly, and I frown at her. “He was killed by Darkrend sometime after.”
Something about the way she said the name warns me off asking.
“So, we have no idea who Darkrend is, then?” I ask instead, and Cass shakes her head, looking exhausted. I can see the weight of the years—even if she looks timeless.
I glance back down at the file in my lap.
“We know it’s got to do with DAEMON. So, what do we know about them?”
Cass lets out a heavy sigh and sits back in her chair.
“Damien Roberts’ grandfather founded it in 1930–930, I mean,” she shakes her head a little. “I never got used to the scheme. They retroactively changed everything in 1900 when the Second Disruption happened.”
I study her as she seems to zone out again. This version of the God Queen is so different from the one that everyone else sees.
“What was that like?” I ask, and she shakes herself a little before her eyes find mine.
“Terrifying,” she gives me a wan smile. “The sky ruptured and Affliction all but poured from gash. Like someone had taken a knife to the world only to let it bleed out.”
“And DAEMON took advantage of that?” I ask, gesturing to the file.
“I will admit that the very few times I have met Damien Roberts, he always seemed troubled. Though whether it was because of his business dealings or—”
“Because he was meeting Bloody Mary?” I ask, and she smiles again.
“I went under my civilian identity. The one you met.”
“Which is?”
“Ophelia Barretti,” she says, deepening her already posh accent. “A refugee from war-torn Europe.”
I cough out a laugh at the unexpected silliness.
“Is that where you’re from?” something in me ignites at the idea of learning more about her. Maybe because for the last decade, all I’ve ever known were rumors and lies.
“Yes,” she says, looking forlorn by the idea. “My family is long dead, though.”
I let the topic drop and wiggle to the edge of the bed before gingerly pressing my feet to the ground.
“So,” I say, standing and batting away the offered hand. “What’s next?”
“Well, we need to meet with the council and decide on replacements for Beowulf and Loki’s positions. After that, we need to make drastic changes to our plans.”
“I would’ve thought their replacements would have been chosen already,” I say, stretching a little and relishing in the way Cass’ eyes find my bare abdomen in the soft pajamas.
“I—” her cheeks pink a little as she returns my confused look with a somewhat guilty one of her own. “I was waiting for you to recover.”
I lean forward and her lips meet mine. For a moment, the rest of the world falls away. The issues. The death. Her tongue slips between my lips and explores my mouth greedily.
