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Author: Acedomvile
last update Last Updated: 2026-01-14 09:07:30

THE LAST RIDE

~DAXON'S POV~

The garage at the Packhouse had a strong, real smell, like gas, wet weather, and guns. It was a good change from the weird, sulfur-like smell of magic upstairs.

I quickly closed the trunk of the black SUV. It was packed with shiny machetes, special bullets that start fires, and enough explosives to wreck a small building. Marcus provided all of it from his personal collection.

"It's not enough," I muttered, leaning against the fender.

"It's never enough," Marcus Blackthorn drawled. He was leaning against a concrete pillar, checking the edge of his daggers. He had swapped his ruined suit for a tactical turtleneck and a long coat. He looked like an assassin on his day off. "But at a certain point, you just have to trust that we are angry enough to make up the difference."

The door to the stairwell opened.

Mathias walked in.

He had changed. Gone was the blood-soaked shirt from the crypt. He wore a fresh black suit, crisp white shirt, no tie. The top button was
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