Grace
“What is that on his neck?” I asked when no one would provide answers.
The air in the room was thick with tension and the tang of adrenaline. The Riders’ faces were all grim in the bright light of the overhead bulbs. Jinx was quiet for once, his usual energy dampened by the discovery of the mark on Bane’s neck.
I stepped closer, my legs almost giving out under me with how much they shook.
Bane’s leather jacket was torn, and his face was a mask of grey, bloodless skin. He looked less human and more beast. His eyes were wide and flat, like two pieces of slate that had been polished smooth.
I gasped at the appearance, but that was not the most shocking sight in the room. It was Bane's neck.
The skin of his neck was charred, but it wasn't a burn from fire. It looked like a brand.
