Hours passed and the day slowly turned to night. Dmitri stood in the middle of the dark room staring at the one-armed shifter who was held in place by Azrail. He was bleeding and counting up blood but no one seemed to care.
Dmitri's eyes were a dark shade of red, it was apparent that he was angry though his face did not show that but his eyes were enough to tell the tale. The darkness of the room did not affect them at all, the higher sense of sight kept the darkness at bay.
"Who else is working with you?" Azrail asked, stabbing his elongated nails into the amputated arm that had healed, reopening it and making it bleed.
