The flickering emergency lights cast long, erratic shadows across the ruined amphitheater.
The air smelled burnt wires and coolant, mixed with the tang of fresh blood leaking from the corridor. But towering in the center of the hall, glowing with an emerald radiance, the massive incubation vat hummed steadily, keeping Risa's motionless, unblemished corpse suspended.
Hide did not take his eyes off the man leaning against the severed console.
The man was draped in dark red garments—a thick, bulky trench coat and fur-lined shoulders that made him look like the ruthless chieftain of a crime syndicate. His cropped hair was stiff with sweat and grime, and his skin carried that same sickly, translucent pallor Hide remembered from Ufrifa, webbed with bulging violet veins that pulsed beneath his cheekbones.
