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I step farther back into the alleyway, ensuring that my hood covers my features from whoever is approaching. When the figure moves closer to the burning building, the dancing flames illuminate his grotesque features.
Sands-blasted hells.
Damian.
Did he follow me here? Does he know I’m the one he’s been looking for?
Maybe it was the explosion that brought him here. Or maybe it was the smell of smoke.
I briefly register that I should be feeling more panicked, that I should be fleeing the scene as quickly as possible, but I don’t. A simmering anger is still stirring within me, fighting for dominance with every other warring emotion, and I am letting it win.
But tonight isn’t the night for this.
I risked enough with the fire, I can’t risk being caught by Damian, too. Besides, the men inside should be dead by now. I can leave in peace, knowing that they paid for their crimes.
Or at least that there are a few less slavers in the world.
Reluctantly, I turn again to leave when another figure emerges from the shadows.
And this one is nearly as familiar as the first.
