If you die, then we’re fucked.”“If you die then we’re fucked anyway because we already lost the RCE!” Tiff said. At his blink, she muttered....“The ... Ritual of Channeling Emotions. It’s a bit of a mouthful.”Bruce frowned.Tiff snapped her fingers. “Arm wrestle.”“What?” Bruce asked.“We arm wrestle,” Tiff said.“Bryce, stun her,” Bruce said.“Huh?”Tiff turned and Bryce, with a casual flick of his hand, lifted his arm up, aimed his laser finger at her, and fired. The beam ionized the air between Tiff. Her eyes shifted as she leaned, searched for any sign of the black Porsche. Would he again show up? Had she perhaps worn out her welcome into his life by her determination to seemingly screw with his creative process? She grabbed her purse, keys in hand, then turned flipping the switches to the bookstore lighting. Another flash of bright lightning, her eyes snapped wide at the sight of a brief black shadow on the wall. She startled, spun around and aimed her wide eyes at the window. She. More

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