When something grabbed her arm, Ophelia had every intention of shoving Leigh away, but it wasn't a human hand that had a grip on her arm. It was a tendril of shadow, ink-black and as alive as any other creature. Ophelia didn't know whether it was the shadows or the mere presence of this girl, but she was getting riled up.
Which was never a good thing for anyone.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously, flashing gold in the darkness. "You gon' wanna let go of my arm, Leigh," Ophelia practically growled. This feeling of uneasiness was too much. "You need help. Arkady needs ta' know."