Cybil had fully expected to be dogged by nightmares, portents, imagery, but instead had slept straight through the night. Something accomplished, she supposed, as she’d gotten nowhere on the evening research. Hopefully, she’d do better today, rested and focused. Rising, she walked over to take a good, hard look at herself in the mirror. She looked the same, she thought. She was the same. What had happened to her wasn’t a turning point in her life. It didn’t make her less, and it hadn’t broken her down. If anything, the attack had given her more incentive, made her more involved and more determined to win. It may feed on humans, she realized. But it didn’t understand them. And that, she supposed, could be another weapon in their arsenal. Now, she wanted a session at the gym to kick her energy level up. Sweating out the toxins, she thought, would be a kind of ritual cleansing. With any luck Quinn would be available for gym buddy. She pulled on a sports bra, bike pants, tossed what she’d need in a small tote.
