Re: #15: Juliet & Claire
Wainright. The guy with the suits who'd tracked them from Jersey to Repose. Juliet didn't give jackshit who had orchestrated a night full of hours in the dark with nothing but booze to take the edge off. She was a survivor, she'd be slivers of glass at the end of the world but she'd be glass all the fucking same, ready to slice fingers if anyone tried to take her out. Not that any of that mattered with Claire's weight sagging against her own.
There and maybe Claire had this shit figured out or maybe she was taking a stab in the dark but that cabin wasn't nothing and anything was better than nothing. Juliet followed the jerk of Claire's head across the moonlight and yanked them both along. That her hands were tacky with the other woman's blood? That much she'd registered. Details could be dealt with later.
When the goddamn light source wasn't out to kill them. She hurtled forward, and she was goddamn going to drag Claire if she had to along with her, and another crack a meter or so away kept them both going. To the cabin, and by the time they reached the door, her lungs had cramped up inside her chest and Juliet was heaving one breath in and one breath out, slow.