His team noticed.
"Oh," Marx of them murmured.
"Well," Legend said dryly, "that explains the vibe."
"You're doomed," Sam added with a grin. "Completely."
Ivan did not deny it.
He watched Felicity tuck the paper flower behind her ear. She beamed like the world had not ended, like there were not corpses rotting in the streets and commanders still consolidating power in broken cities, Like nothing could touch her while she was held between monsters who loved her.
He made his vow then.
Silent.
Absolute.
If anyone tried to hurt her again, he would not simply kill them. He would erase the idea that they had ever existed.
A distant groan rolled through the building. Not human.
All heads lifted instantly.
Three dead filtered in through the blown-out lobby doors, drawn by scent and residual sound. They were slow. Rotting. But they were still moving.
Victor did not rise.
He did not need to.
Damien unfolded.
It was not dramatic. It was efficient.
