The Devil's Debt
Serrano wanted her blood almost as much as Marek wanted Lucian’s throat.
That was the currency Marek carried. And tonight, he intended to spend it.
“Tell Serrano,” Marek murmured, his tone like ice cutting glass, “that I bring him the girl who made him bleed. His vengeance gift.”
Back at Pier 9, Elias’s fire roared higher, thick smoke coiling into the sky like a beacon of war. The warehouses collapsed inward, steel groaning as it buckled, sparks raining down like meteors. Serrano’s veins had been cut, his supply lines bleeding out into the sea.
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