He was going to be sick. Heaving and gagging, Remy shoved himself away from Vertigo and vomited on the grass.
"The fuck. . . is wrong with you?" He spat out furiously.
Cards blazed to life once again and he threw a handful of them at her still prone form. This time he didn't care if they hit her - although he could only manage a soft charge, his vision was swimming too much to do otherwise.