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Artemisia did not know how she had ended up there. It had been a fog of cries, green and flames. That fire that burnt only one spot. An imprint of five fingers. It had reddened Rachel's snow skin. And now, it deepened into hers. Sizzling below her whimpers.
There was humanity lacking in the assault. As she battled to free herself from her oppressor, her eyes filled with tears, gazing into a void of green. It was not Kory who sought to kill her. Kory would be pretentious of every attack, smirk down at the prey. It was a virtue that should have been frowned upon, but Robin admired it. She was very unapologetically herself.
Robin had identified this was not Kory. She wished to say it out loud. Someone might catch it and tell Kory once she found peace. But the clutch on her throat cut her words before they even attempted to spurt.
Her eyes scurried to Zach, instead. He was watching frightened from the floor. It was him who freed the girl from Kory's grasp. And it had gotten him shoved into a mirror, glass slicing through his clothes and skin. He looked at her knowingly. They knew the blaze would not be the one to kill her.
Nails carving into her dark skin, attempting her best to escape this mortal grip, Artemisia tried to buy them more time. She told Zach with just a yank of her head to get Rachel out. He was begging to stand, pain shooting through his features when the door abruptly opened. He fell back into his butt.
The hold around her altered unexpectedly. Her eyes dilated with realization. She opened her mouth to speak, reason with whoever had seized control of Kory. But it was to no avail. Her body was thrown across the room, this time in another direction. Her heart stopped as nothing maintained her.
The harsh surface she would have been hurled against had been replaced. Whatever she had knocked into, it was softer. Not pillowy, but ten times better than wood. However, not as steady. A hand fastened around her waist as she fell back.
Her spine landed on flesh and bones. The support grunting in discomfort. She rolled off, though not too far. Every inch of her body stung. She did not dare to think how bad it would feel if someone had not caught her.
Someone who she did not get a possibility to look at. She could not even guess. And the woman who trudged into her view did not deliver any clue, either.
With apparel matching her raven hair, the exotic woman fiercely faced a vicious Kory. An old cord hung in her hand. But with a decisive motion, the brown thread began gleaming gold. Her trained hands looped the lasso, flinging it to hook Kory's bared neck. Using that same energy, she pulled down on the old fashioned weapon, hauling the black woman with her. Her torso boomed on the coffee table.
Robin fought to sit up, seeking a new angle. She would love to see that again. The way the lasso lit up. The miraculous power that it carried. She looked at the new visitor, who still had her back facing her. If she could just turn. Show her face. . .
