On her way she bumped into a young man, her arms spreading in frustration as she turned around to look at him. He was there when she lost everything, he understood better than anyone just exactly what they had taken from her.īut this wasn’t about getting the memories back, it was about the dish best served cold.Īmea rounded the corner and into the bar. Transportation, leads and a ball plank to throw ideas at.
This was a matter she needed to see through, and so far Jeryc had helped plenty with just that. She did not care about the cost of getting here, either monetary or morally. This cult of theirs, the one that Jeryc and Amea had stumbled upon by accident…
There had been a small coven here, with an emphasis on ‘had.’ Amea’s knuckles were cracked, her hair an ever so slightly darker shade of red than usual. Most of the cuts had been seen to already, but nothing had really been done to cover them.
The scrapes and bruises were hard to wash out.
