XAVIER'S POVThe street was wet with rain.I didn't remember walking here. I didn't remember leaving the penthouse, or getting in the car, or stepping out into the cold. But here I was, standing in the middle of a dimly lit alley, the smell of iron and damp concrete filling my nostrils.The sound of people screaming pulled me forward. A woman's voice, high and shrill, cutting through the rain like a blade. Then another voice. Then more.I rounded the corner, and my blood turned cold.A crowd had gathered. Dozens of people, their faces twisted with horror. Some were crying. Some were covering their mouths. Some turned away, unable to look.But I couldn't look away.Because on the ground, lying in a pool of dark, spreading blood, was Ian.His white shirt was soaked with blood, face was too pale, his eyes half-open and staring at nothing. “No.” The word came out as a whisper.I pushed through the crowd, shoving people aside, my heart slamming against my ribs. “Move! Get the fuck out of
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