She could hear Malachi's voice close to her barely through the barrage of memories. What she was more aware of was the way his arms wrapped around her. She leaned into him without thinking about it. His hand smoothing her hair was soothing. it felt like... shew as then assaulted by bunching of memories of her mother doing just that. She was there calming her cries with a gentle hand over and over through different years until it was replaced by an image filled with blood. Eliza flinched away from the memory. It was like every good memory her mind managed to find was met with a bad one and the bad ones were usually filled with blood.
Soon it was strangers. They were pleading for their lives, for their limbs or to avoid pain. They all ended the same. She saw her hand move as she performed her task. Carrying out the kill or injury she had been sent to do. Their pleading had fallen on deft ears and she hadn't spared a glance to anyone that watched her. The memories all played out the same. They begged she completed her task, and she turned and left.
"But I do..." she answered him softly. She didn't know how to communicate what was going on or even if she wanted too. She didn't want the way that Malachi saw her change. "Thier smiles are covered in blood," she told him softly. The memories were starting to slow. There were be others she was sure but it seemed like the highlight reel was wrapping up at least. "So much blood." She sounded tired though her body was beginning to relax again. She moved to rest her head on his shoulder, her eyes but clearly not really looking at her surroundings. She didn't even seem to notice that Clary had moved closer.