His team noticed.
"Oh," Marx 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 as if the world had not ended, as if there were no corpses in the streets, no commanders seizing power in ruined cities, as if nothing could touch her, 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.
