The wail of approaching sirens sliced through the cold night air. Red and blue lights flickered against the darkened trees as law enforcement sped toward the scene. "Victor lay on the ground, blood seeping from his wounded leg, his breath labored but his smirk still intact."
Damon stood over him, his gun still in his grip, though he hadn’t pulled the trigger again. He should have. "But Alina had stopped him."
Now, as he watched Victor groan and glare up at him, something about the moment unsettled him. "Victor wasn’t afraid." Even with his men dead, even with the police closing in, there was something in his eyes that sent a chill through Damon’s spine.
“You think this is the end?” Victor rasped, coughing through a twisted grin. His bloodied lips curled into something almost amuse
