Her each word only added fuel to Claire’s anger. There was no reason in the Nivera’s eyes, only the sick belief that she could make these poor souls “better”. Suddenly, she saw Leo strapped to the bed, in pain and mumbling incoherently. She saw the scars on his body again. His memories welled up in her. His pain, anguish, and despair.
Nivera’s touch snapped into focus her corrupted aura, tainted with sadism and genocide. Claire grabbed her wrist and twisted Nivera’s arm, shoving hard to force her to her knees.
“As you tried to heal Leo?” If words could burn from the emotion invested in them, Nivera’s skin would have scorched away.
The pain that shot through her arm rippled in waves and for a moment, her true age showed before it was concealed by the de-aging spell she had branded on her soul. She hissed and her knees hit the ground–but she almost immediately rose to her feet, untwisted her arm and pulled it from Claire’s grasp as if her body was that of a rag doll. She did not retaliate, only took a step back as the words sunk in.
“Leo? Guardians, you know my precious Leo?” Her face showed naught but compassion, her heart soaring in her chest. “With the limited capabilities of the century, Leo was my best accomplishment. I nearly succeeded with him, too. Does he still own that shop in New Orleans? Beautiful place. I’ve had some of my associates check on him every now and again. How do you know him?"
