Chapter 88

Morrigan stood on the rooftop, letting the wind whip through her hair. It had been too long since she'd felt this - the rush of air on her skin, the city sprawled out below like a glittering circuit board. After all the shit that had gone down, she needed this moment to decompress, to let the stress bleed out of her.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The air up here was different - cleaner, somehow, despite the ever-present smog that choked the lower levels of Paris. For a brief moment, she could almost pretend she was somewhere else entirely.

But then she felt it. A presence behind her, as familiar as her own shadow. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Vlad. Dracula. The blood-sucking bastard himself.

Morrigan's moment of peace shattered. She kept her eyes fixed on the horizon, not ready to face him just yet. The wind continued to howl around her, but now it felt less like freedom and more like a warning.