He lunged.
His hand closed around the glass shard, and he drove it into the back of Dominique's neck.
Dominique gasped, his body jerking forward as the sharp edge tore through his skin. Pain exploded through him, white-hot and blinding, radiating from the wound down his spine and into his limbs like liquid fire.
He stumbled, his hand flying to his neck, feeling the warm rush of blood seeping through his fingers. The metallic scent filled his nostrils, thick and overwhelming.
His knees buckled, but he caught himself against the wall, his breath ragged and uneven, each inhale a struggle.
Nicolas scrambled backward, his breath ragged, his eyes wild with a mixture of fear and triumph.
The drug was making him feel sick, dizzy and nauseous, his thoughts spinning out of control like leaves caught in a violent storm.
His vision swam and he blinked rapidly trying to focus but the hatred in his heart burned brighter than the haze in his mind, a blazing fire that consumed all reason.
