![]() Though I knew with absolute certainty that Adam wouldn't do anything I didn't want him to do - and had wanted him to do for a long time. It was that invisible damage that left me afraid to leave the bathroom and face Adam, who waited in my bedroom. My soul was a lot more battered than my body, but I couldn't see it in the mirror. Karate and mechanicking kept me in good shape. Aside from that slight damage, there was nothing wrong with my body. ![]() The dark thread looked from some angles like the legs of a shiny black spider. There were two stitches Samuel had put in the cut on my chin, and the bruise on my shoulder (not extensive damage considering I'd been fighting something that liked to eat children and had knocked out a werewolf). ![]() ![]() My skin was darker on my arms and face than it was on the rest of my body, but at least, thanks to my Blackfoot father, I'd never be pasty pale. I WASN'T pretty, but my hair was thick and brushed my shoulders. ![]()
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