To ruin an Omega Nov Chapter 264: Sight for sore eyes 2

Chapter 264: Sight for sore eyes 2

CIAN

We left the morgue. The sunlight felt too bright after the cold darkness inside. I led them to the garage where the wrecked vehicles had been stored. Two cars sat in various states of destruction. The sentinel’s vehicle was the worst, crushed and twisted beyond recognition. The other car looked almost intact from certain angles, though the front end was completely demolished.

That was the car Fia and Garrett had been in. The tal was bent and scarred. The windows were completely shattered. The passenger side caved in where the impact had been strongest.

The delicate approached the sentinel’s car first. She placed her hands on the mangled door.

Then she shook her head. "It is just echoes of what I already felt. Their fear. Their pain. Their deaths."

She moved around the car, feeling for sothing more.

Her fingers traced along the hood, following the crumpled tal. But again, she got nothing.

"There’s nothing here," she said. Frustration tinged her voice. "It is just ordinary tal and ordinary glass. There is no linger of magic. No intent beyond the chanical act of two vehicles colliding."

"Try Fia’s car," I said.

The delicate moved to the vehicle. She stood before it for a mont, studying it like it was a piece of art in a museum. Then she reached out and placed both hands on the driver’s side door.

Her entire body jerked.

"Wait," she breathed. Her eyes went wide. "I can feel myself in the car."

My pulse quickened. "What do you an?"

"I’m sitting in the back seat. I feel sothing cloying take over my nose. Sweet but wrong. Chemical like." Her voice had changed again, becoming lighter. It was younger and much more feminine. She was channeling Fia. "My head feels heavy. My thoughts are sluggish. Sothing’s wrong. Sothing’s very wrong but I can’t think clearly enough to understand what. It worked. Whatever was done to ... It worked."

She moved along the car, her hands never leaving the tal. Her fingers traced the dents and scrapes with disturbing intimacy.

"The world is tilting," she said. "Or maybe I’m tilting. I look forward and I see a figure. A girl. Frail and young. I believe we will kill her. So I try to save her. I turn the wheel. The car’s drifting and I start to realize I am wrong. There is no girl. I try to correct it but my hands won’t respond properly. Everything’s happening too fast. I see lights ahead. Bright lights. Coming toward . Towards us."

Her hand continued to trace the car’s body. She moved to the front, placing both palms on the crumpled hood.

Then she stopped again.

"There’s another presence." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Wait. I can feel them."

"Who?" I took a step closer. "Who do you feel? The imaginary girl?"