A severed gray sleeve raised two fingers from the triage pile. The defender it had left kept both bare hands on his rifle.
Jade's white hand copied the empty sleeve. Her index and middle fingers opened around Ty's loose rib while her living shoulder stayed locked against her chest.
One clear pulse bead rolled through a chip of blue brewery paint, circled the same crack, then tapped the desk leg. Jade wanted someone to step on it. The next tap reached her right wrist before the sound reached her ear.
She stamped the bead flat with her boot. Her borrowed fingers stopped.
"That sleeve copied me after its wearer put both hands on a rifle," Jade said.
Nessa followed Jade's gaze. Her cage fiber ran from the numb side of her hand to Ty's rib, where two loops had cut pale grooves into the bone. "The dead tissue kept its last cage instruction."
