walk-in closet. It was larger t

el, Dior. They were trophies, not clothes. Kason had bought them to drape o

ored th

a battered canvas duffel bag. It was a relic from Elease's past, a bag she'd packed for a camping trip

t the frame with his arms crossed. He was wat

e trash bag?" he

two plain black t-shirts and a pair of jeans. She folded

elvet jewelry box o

onds stay. They belong to

ce glittered under the recessed lightin

sed it co

ver locket nestled in the corner of the box. It

o of a woman with kind eyes stare

ocket shut and shove

scuffed and old, but inside, the hardware had been modified. The dormant Phoenix persona had guided her hands

he bag and zipped it up. T

son. She was wea

ound," s

all before, Elease. The scars don't

. She simply stripp

om the fire five years ago. They were older, a horrifying latticework of pale, raised lines-some surgical, some clearly from burns and shrapnel, a ma

d leggings. She slipped her fee

ked up

on didn't move. He blocked her

e was louder now, edged with frustration. "You think thi

ooked up

science, Kason," she

ion, a subtle shift of weight that allowed

rabbed her arm. His gri

ur," he hissed. "Don't be lurkin

culated the angle of his wrist, the pressure point on his thumb. She could break his wrist in two secon

er voice dropped an o

hat Kason released her instantly. He stepped back,

s, jagged sound. "Yo

it," Eleas

ay. Her footsteps were si

e wall. Kason looked like a prince. Elease was

pa

thinking she was ha

turned the frame face d

shui," she

the heavy

a cent!" Kason yelled from the hallway

r slamm

l. It was the soun