Page 51 of Hellbound

Marian slumped in her seat.

“What I probably should have told you and didn’t because I was pretty sure you were going to bail on me, is that when I came back from the Remnant, I was out of my mind.”

Elio had at least lived long enough to get that rumor circulating.

Silence for a long time before Tori spoke. “Lloyd said—”

“Yeah. I’m why he had a gun. I stole Elio’s knife that night. He thought I wanted to kill him. Instead, I cut myself up. I used to think it was the Remnant possessing me, trying to make me send myself back to Hell.”

But now I’m not so sure.

What she’d done then hadn’t felt like an attempt at death. She’d made each cut with the intention to create, not destroy. The resulting mark wasn’t some random mass of scar tissue, but a series of shapes that, while crude, followed some sort of order. And she’d seen it ignite and make the Remnant recoil.

Marian almost explained the resulting scar, its peculiar habit for lighting up in the presence of the Remnant, and the hint of purpose that drove her to inflict it on herself. But Tori hadn’t asked, and Marian decided she still had a few secrets she’d like to keep.

She shoved her scarred hand into her jacket pocket.

“How did you know the knife would stop the Remnant?” Tori asked quietly.

Marian blinked hard at the cold overhead lights.

“It was the only thing that made sense.”

More time passed between them in silence. Out the window, vague shapes came and went. Neighborhoods shrouded in night. As they neared the city center, skyscrapers loomed in the distance like pillars of stars.

The train tilted as they rounded another bend when Tori asked in a quiet voice. “Why do we do this to ourselves?”

That sobering question made Marian sit up slowly. She looked at Tori, who stared listlessly out the window.

“You’re asking the wrong person.” But that didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about her answer. Not that she’d ever say it aloud. She’d forgotten how heavy all of this was, and she’d carried it all by herself for months.

Why did she do this to herself?

You know very well why.

Tori blew out a long breath and shook her curly head. “I just … I don’t even have to die to go there, and I hate it. I have no idea how you can do what you do. The pay must be pretty great.”

“Yeah.” Marian shifted in her damp seat.

“I shouldn’t talk about you like I know you, because I don’t, but damn, girl, you must be built different.”

Marian stared at Tori, dumbfounded. What was that? An insult? A compliment? It sounded like both and neither. How was she supposed to respond?

But Tori kept talking, her eyes downcast. “It’s so hard to tell up from down in this weird ass world. But I swear, every time I learn something new about Hell, I … I don’t know. It’s not at all what I expected, and I can’t let it go.” The traveler shook her head. “I just have this feeling, like this is all some horrible joke.”

Marian frowned at her, the traveler’s words turning over slowly in her head. “What do you mean?”

An electronic bell chimed through the train car, announcing the next stop.

“Union Station.”

“Forget it.” Tori stood and reached for the handrail as the train began to slow. Her crown of dark brown hair bounced a little as she looked over her shoulder at Marian. “I’m sorry for how this played out tonight. I didn’t think artifacts could vanish like that.”

“Neither did I. Hope you got enough material for your sketch, at least.”

The traveler paused. “Sketch?”

Marian narrowed her bleary eyes. “For your client? The whole reason we hosted this shit show? So you don’t die?”