Rainwater streamed steadily through the narrow alley as midnight deepened around the fractured silence of the city, and Elara stood motionless near the broken brick wall with uneven breath and trembling fingers hidden carefully within the folds of her dark coat while the ancient pressure beneath the streets continued pulsing violently against her awareness like a heartbeat too large for the world to contain.
Damien remained several feet away beneath the flickering neon light, his expression unreadable though quiet fascination lingered unmistakably within his dark gaze, and the dead ghoul near his feet lay twisted against the pavement while blood mixed slowly with rainwater before slipping into the storm drain below.
For one brief moment nothing moved.
Nothing breathed.
Nothing interrupted the dangerous stillness stretching tightly between them.
Then—
Footsteps.
Fast.
Sharp.
Approaching hard from the far end of the alley.
