Vladimir looked at the dagger in Selene's hand, then at the clone wearing his wife's face.
The fake Selina still smiled at him with that soft, affectionate expression. Rain slid down her blonde hair, across her pale cheeks, and along the curve of her lips, making the imitation look far too alive beneath the blood-red moon.
Vladimir's flame wavered for a moment.
Selene's glare sharpened.
"Father."
"I heard you the first time, my daughter."
"Then stop looking at her like that."
Vladimir exhaled through his nose, and the violet flames around his body rose again.
"You are correct. That thing is not your mother, but it does carry her perfect beauty!"
The fake Selina raised one hand.
Selene moved before the wind came.
Nothing happened.
That was the worst part.
There was no immediate blade, no visible pressure, no gust cutting through the rain. The fake Selina's fingers simply opened, and the air remained still until she willed her explosive wind bombs to detonate.
