Chapter 9: Picking up the Pieces
Libs made his way through the quiet city, melting from shadow to shadow like a wraith. He was as silent as an owl in the night; not a single brush of a hand or foot on air gave away his position. People often forgot by looking at him as if he were somehow human: he was a demon of the ancient world, one made for the hunt in the dead of night.
He had the shape of a human for one reason only. That was to lure them closer and make them feel safe enough in his presence that he could strike. He was a predator.
He was close to Jane’s compound now, and his eyes could pick up every single movement from his vantage point on the rooftop. Jane thought that she owned the dark because she used it for her own ends, to spread fear through the station. She had it wrong.
