She doesn't hear her name the first time it's whispered. The second time, Laura blinks, claws going away as she stares at the mess of her procurer's back. It's too dark to see what shade his coat's turned, but the smooth fabric has shredded, and everything feels damp.
The last time this happened, there had been a reason. Reis had made bombs that did this to her--worse than this, because when she thinks, in the fraction of a breath after Tessa calls her name, she can remember stabbing Deepstalker--but this had been her. Fear and panic and two years' worth of swallowed anger became pulp on her knuckles.
She would like to vomit. She would like to make the blood on her skin her own, not his. But they have limited time, and Deepstalker's body is still hefted on Tessa's. Laura puts her arms around him, for what she hopes is the last time, and pulls him away from the railing of the balcony, struggling backwards as the still-warm bulk of flesh rests back against her torso. She can feel his blood oozing through her bodice, along the bare skin of her neck, her hair sticking to his wet shoulder--
And the door opens. Laura drops the corpse on her boots, claws flashing out as she turns to find the woman who'd harangued Tessa earlier. The madam doesn't scream or run or turn for assistance, though; after a surprised moment, she takes a step forward, shutting the door behind her, and asks Tessa, "What have we here?"
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The last time this happened, there had been a reason. Reis had made bombs that did this to her--worse than this, because when she thinks, in the fraction of a breath after Tessa calls her name, she can remember stabbing Deepstalker--but this had been her. Fear and panic and two years' worth of swallowed anger became pulp on her knuckles.
She would like to vomit. She would like to make the blood on her skin her own, not his. But they have limited time, and Deepstalker's body is still hefted on Tessa's. Laura puts her arms around him, for what she hopes is the last time, and pulls him away from the railing of the balcony, struggling backwards as the still-warm bulk of flesh rests back against her torso. She can feel his blood oozing through her bodice, along the bare skin of her neck, her hair sticking to his wet shoulder--
And the door opens. Laura drops the corpse on her boots, claws flashing out as she turns to find the woman who'd harangued Tessa earlier. The madam doesn't scream or run or turn for assistance, though; after a surprised moment, she takes a step forward, shutting the door behind her, and asks Tessa, "What have we here?"