Like a storm cloud consuming the moonlight, the successor stood at the edge of the clearing. His face was smeared with blood and grime, but aside from the little twist of his lips a smile that conveyed the weight of his confidence it was serene, almost uncanny.
He said, in a mockingly friendly tone, "You've put up quite the show, Olivia," as though we were old friends reuniting in a strange setting. "But the curtain comes down here."
As I knelt beside Ethan, whose faint breathing was the sole indication of his tenuous hold on consciousness, my breath seized in my throat. Marcus moved ahead of us, his knife shining dimly in the dim light.
"You desire her?" Marcus's voice was a deep threat as he hissed. "You must first pass through me."
The replacement shook his head and laughed. "Oh, Marcus. So ready to be the hero all the time. How many times has that worked for you, please?
Marcus's jaw tensed, but he remained silent.
