The rain was heavier up here.
A thousand feet above the Capital's streets, the wind howled between the skyscrapers, driving cold sheets of water sideways through the empty air. The city lights below were nothing more than blurred halos of orange and white, their glow smeared by the storm.
Most of the buildings were dark. The riots had knocked out power across half the commercial district, leaving only the emergency wards on government buildings and the red and blue lights of military vehicles patrolling the streets.
Holden crouched on the edge of a tower roof, completely invisible.
The Void Mantle erased him from the world.
Even the rain passed around him without touching his body, leaving a strange man-shaped gap in the storm.
The Abyssal-Bone Wings were folded tightly against his back while the gold mask covered his face.
Below, the convoy approached.
Maeve's voice crackled softly through his earpiece.
