Page 178 of Remnants: Disruption
His fur-covered hands scrabble uselessly at the skeletal fist, and I shake him a little to get him to stop moving.
“Which one of you is a Remnant? I don’t have a lot of time, and I am running out of fucks to give.”
I scan the room, but of the twenty or so men here, they all look like some variant of supernatural. A few werewolves and a handful of dhampir.
“Hiraeth?” I hear Azazel’s voice from the steps.
“Down here,” I call, and hear their footsteps falter as they reach the bottom.
“What is—” Azazel’s shocked voice seems to be their default today.
Could she use a supernatural? If I don’t have any other options, I might have to just say fuck it and grab one of the werewolves. I have no idea if dhampir even have Aether in their veins.
“Hiraeth?” Azazel says again.
I finally turn to face them, and I suppose the cocked eyebrow I try for doesn’t translate.
Since this form has neither eyebrows nor a face.
“Yes?” I ask, knowing my tone is sharper than normal.
I don’t have a lot of time.Shedoesn’t have a lot of time.
“We have a situation. What are you doing here?”
“Well,” I say, turning to look back at possible sacrifices. “We need a powerful Remnant for the God Queen. And this individual will not be coming back.”
Azazel steps up beside me.
“Who are they?”
I survey the group, taking in the wounds and shadowy spikes tethering nearly every one of them.
“Well,” I say again, pointing to the corpse lying at the foot of Cass’ throne. “Snaggletooth over there was the werewolf I saw leaving the apartment where we found all the evidence of insurgency.”
I gesture to the crowd as a whole. “I made him call his buddies and they all came down here thinking there’d be a grand plan for getting them all out of here.”
“You made him?” Azazel asks, voice somewhere between horror and fascination.
My non-existent shoulders shrug. “I killed him and forced his spirit to tell me how to contact them. I need a Remnant and I can’t tell which of them is.”
Azazel sounds a little unnerved as they point, “that one is a fire wielder.”
I follow the mage’s finger and nod. “Perfect.”
The werewolf in question scrambles backwards as much as he can, but stumbles and falls as shadowy tendrils wrap themselves around his ankles and arms.
“What about the others?” Azazel asks.
As I shift back into my human form, my phone buzzes against my thigh.
I dig into my pocket for the device and press it to my ear.
“Arya?” Cass’ panicked voice spikes painfully at my heart.
“Are you okay?” I ask, dragging a hand through my hair. “I can get Azazel to—”
“No, I am fine. Weak and tired, but stable. No, I just saw the news. Were you going to tell me?”
