Page 105 of Martyr
“I… you…”
Lyssa laughs.
I flinch like she slapped me. It’s a new sound. One that she couldn’t have done… I don’t know this sound. I could not have imagined it. I mean, okay, Ihaveimagined it, I’ve theorized and agonized over what the sound could be. This wasn’t it. It wasn’t that.
Her laugh is the sort of sound that could give a wretched soul like mine a clean start.
“You’re here.”
She looks up at me. Same blonde hair, but longer. Same hazel eyes, but a bit less haunted. Or maybe more. I can’t tell. I don’t know. Is she a stranger?
“I’m here,” she confirms.
I drag her into me. She wraps her arms around my waist, and I do the same around her shoulders.
And all at once, I’m crying.
43ARTEMIS
Gabriel is covered in blood.His cheek is an ugly mess, the bruising and swelling growing by the second. He sits at the kitchen table in Kora’s house, letting me clean the cut on his lip with antiseptic. Although it must burn, he doesn’t move a muscle.
Lyssa sits across from him.
He’s focused on her, staring like if he blinks, she’s going to evaporate. He didn’t look away from her in the car, even as he helped her in and roughly wiped away the tears left on his cheeks. He seems to be in shock.
Imagine if Lyssa didn’t agree to come with me?
“Oh.” Gabriel frowns. “I have this.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. It isn’t until the object makes a dull,wetthump on the table that I turn my attention to it.
I choke. “That’s a hand.”
“Ouranos,” he says solemnly. “Proof of death.”
My mouth opens and closes.
“Tem.” Saint comes into the room. He eyes Gabriel, then nearly chokes at the sight of the hand on the table.
“Oh, good.” I motion to it. “You think you can get that… uh, identified?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’m not touching that thing. Whose is it?”
“Ouranos,” Gabriel says. “Obviously. Look at the ring.”
I focus on the bloody fingers again. The flat, circular ring on the pinky. Freaking pretentious, is what it is. There’s an engraving on the surface, but I can’t make it out. And, frankly, I have no desire to lean in closer.
“That’s not what I came in here for,” Saint says.
Lyssa makes a face.
“Spit it out, then,” I say on a sigh. “I’m not sure I can handle any more bad news.”
He cracks a smile. “It’s not bad news.”
I straighten. “Really?”
“We found Malik.”
