From Dusk Till Dawn Series Santanico Mga Nobela at Kwento

His white garment was already torn into pieces and the glazes on his skin were oozing with blood. Druji slowly turned her eyes to the wretched body of Vivar. He was even unrecognizable due to the terrible cuts on his face. She gripped tightly the rusted bars, dismayed by Vivar’s dreadful situation. “How could you do this to him? I told you he will never tell where the chosen one is even if you kill him.” Druji snarled. Due to her frustration, she didn’t even realize her voice was raised. Dubheasa’s forehead creased as she heard the sudden changes in Druji’s tone. She glared as she walked toward her, gripping tightly on her whip. “Are you trying to defy me because of this soldier?” She growle

"That's wonderful, my child," Dawn told Catalina. "Now, please take my hands, close your eyes, and I'll handle the rest.” Nodding, Catalina complied with Dawn's directions. As soon as their eyes were closed, Dawn took a deep breath, and within moments, a luminous white light surrounded them. "Our dearest Moon Goddess," Dawn began, "I have come to tell you that my granddaughter, Catalina Winchester, has accepted your offer.” A shiver went through Dawn's body right after she said that, and then she spoke again, her voice sounding different.

She began, raising the one question that had formed since she'd seen the photograph. "He's my leader. What else do you want to know?" "A name would be nice considering that I've been hunting him for nearly three years." "His name is Demitri Van Santen." "It's nice to finally put a name to that blood sucking warthog." "Warthog huh? You sure do hate him a lot." He stated, not at all surprised by her attitude. "You would too if he killed the only person in the world who gave a damn about you."

"See you at dawn, Mr. Moretti. Don't be late. And don't bring any friends. I have eyes everywhere." The call ended. Dante stood in the empty diner, his phone still in his hand, staring at the black screen. They had Sienna. The countdown on her phone continued its relentless march. 9:43:28 9:43:27 Eight hours until dawn. Eight hours to get the ledger from the bank and figure out how to save her without getting them both killed. He picked up her phone and shoved it in his pocket along with his own. Then he headed for the door, already planning, already calculating.

Erasure. By sunrise, Marco and every man attached to tonight will either be dead or begging for a quicker end. And De Santis… De Santis is going to wake up to the first real sign that he made a fatal mistake. Because tonight he reached for Elena again. And I’m done being reasonable about it.

Antonio leaned in, and spoke with a deep sigh. "I'll ask you one last time.” Antonio said as he reloaded his gun. “How did the De Santis know about our operation?" Santos erupted into laughter, his blood-stained teeth glinting. "They're coming for you." Antonio cocked his gun. "See you in hell." He shot Santos in his head. Donatello stumbled towards Antonio, clutching his injured leg. "What...what just happened?" he stammered. Antonio holstered his gun, his eyes blazing with anger.

Luca crossed the room, brushing her hair from her face. “You don’t have to be fire every night. Even storms need sleep.” Amara leaned into him, her voice lower. “I’m afraid if I stop, the darkness will catch me.” He kissed her jaw. “Then I’ll stay awake with you.” Santero wasn’t a myth. He was real. Alive. And buried deep in the red alleys of Granada, protected by priests who didn’t pray to God and ghosts that remembered blood. They found him through one of Amara’s old cartel ties — a Dominican named Cas.

As I watched her graceful performance, I couldn't help but feel intrigued. "She is hot, man," Ledger uttered to me. I nodded, seeing as the show ended. "Who is the owner of this bar?" My gaze was not leaving her as he walked in. "That's Tobias Johnson," Ledger responded, grabbing my phone to dial a call. "Hello, this is Damien Harrington, son of Hugo. I don't think I need to tell you about me; you should know by that name." "Yes, I do. It's a pleasure to have a great person on call."

The Manhattan sunrise painted Elena's office in shades of gold and shadow, but she hadn't slept. Theo's voice echoed through the night, three years of silence broken by desperate need. Her baby brother, begging forgiveness from a sister he'd helped drive away. "Rough night?" Marcus asked, entering with coffee and concern. Their 7 AM meetings had become ritual, planning days that started early and ended late. "Complicated night." Elena accepted the coffee gratefully, her enhanced metabolism burning through caffeine faster than humans. "We have the Morrison Industries presentation at nine?"

Chapter 80 || SANCIA'S POV || The sun was dipping low, its orange glow illuminating the jagged peaks of the cliffs that surrounded the cove. The faint scent of saltwater mingled with the coppery tang of blood, an acrid reminder of what we had just survived. I sat cross-legged in the sand beside Vincenzo, the bandage I’d hastily tied around his leg already soaked through with crimson. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his face was pale, streaked with sweat and grime.