We don’t wait long. A black SUV rolls up the drive, its engine rumbling low, predatory. The windows are tinted, black mirrors reflecting nothing but our own stares back at us. I can’t see who’s inside, but I can smell him.
Luke was right. Human. No question. But beneath the stale scent of city air and expensive cologne, there’s something else—something faint, half-buried. Familiar, but too diluted to grasp.
“Recognize it?” I murmur.
Sam doesn’t blink. His gaze is locked on the SUV, shoulders coiled tight. “No. You?”
I shake my head. His hum is low, uneasy. He feels it too—the wrongness.
The door creaks open. A man steps out, slow and deliberate, like he owns the place. Mid-fifties, maybe older. Dark-grey hair slicked back, beard trimmed short. He wears a tailored suit that doesn’t bel
