I nod eagerly to Hank and then carry Rafe over to the little computer in the corner, where I open a web browser and begin to search for the contact information of the temple in the center of our city, hopping to hell the priestesses there can do something to help. ________________________ Sinclair
Ella Rafe and I are standing behind the counter, staring at the front door of the clinic, waiting for the Priestess to arrive. I shift anxiously from foot to foot and Rafe grumbles and cries anxiously in my arms, probably picking up on my emotions. “It’s okay, little baby,” I murmur, tearing my e
I grimace a little and shake my head. “I don’t think we have anything like that here, or at least not easily.” On the phone the Priestess had asked if I could come to the temple, but I had been unwilling to leave Cora if at all possible. So the Priestess had said it was all right, we could probably
Roger Less time probably passes than it feels like. Because it feels like hours of being seared by fire, of the Priest hurling spells at us. And it’s not fire alone – it’s flames first, and then slicing spells that cut at us, and then wind – and ice – and something that feels like acid in the air
“I don’t know!” he cries. “He didn’t tell us!” “What does he have!?” I command, shoving the priest’s hands away from his face so that I can look down on him again. “More priests? More defenses!?” “Nothing,” he moans, shaking his head. “We were – we were the last – we were supposed to hold you here
Roger “My phone,” Dominic murmurs as I look over his wounds. “Fuck your phone,” I murmur, shaking my head and leaning closer to a deep slice on his stomach that makes me hiss with anxiety. “Roger,” Dominic snaps, and I look up at him with a frown. “The priest – he said the master had Rafe. Check
Hank turns to me then, shocked and confused. “What?” he asks. “Don’t do it!” I say, ignoring him, my eyes completely focused on the Priestess before me. “Don’t trust him – please! Just –“ But then, I go pale as Rafe begins to scream in her arms – a noise beyond the normal cries of a disgruntled ba
Ella I scream at the top of my lungs – no words, just senseless agony - the moment the woman turns the corner and I lose sight of my child. The sound is horrible even to my own ears, but I can’t stop myself as I hurl myself against the ice that holds me, against which I ceaselessly fight. A nurse