She could hardly place coherence through the panic and guilt associated with the sanguine. It smeared her skin, exacerbated by the weather which would have presumably helped—as a mild spit of rain would have cleansed. But it did not, and the suddenly former-experiment was left to panic; flinching at the voice.
Blind eyes followed its source. “Monsieur!” she exclaimed. “Please, monsieur, would there be anywhere quiet around here? Just somewhere to hide ‘till they—’till they cannot find me.”
Kyce followed the girl’s voice and she nearly ran into him, her voice crazed and blubbering in a French accent? French. Attractive–okay that was bad. Probably shouldn’t be secretly hitting on a girl who was distressed and running from people. Then again, he was working for a gorgon who threatened his life so it wasn’t exactly far fetched in the crazy that was his psyche and his life in general.
"Well come out of this rain, ma'am.“ He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and nudged her in the direction of the apartment. "Who are you running from? Do you need me to call the police?"