In his mind, Damien roared like a cornered animal—a guttural scream of protest, fury, confusion.
But the only sound that left his lips was a low, ragged growl.
He blinked, slowly, as if his eyelids were lined with lead, vision clouded with haze and shadow. His hand jerked out toward Amelia, a clumsy grasp that fell short by a foot. His arm dropped heavily, useless as dead weight, and he let out a strained groan, the sound of a giant collapsing inward.
She blurred before his eyes, her silhouette haloed in light from the overhead bulb. Everything around her seemed to bend, pulse, shift. Like the world itself was slipping sideways.
And then her voice cut through the fog, sharp and furious.
“Sleep tight, you deranged son of a bitch.”
The words hit harder than the needle had.
Amelia had
