Nick led the way, his blade gleaming in the firelight. His expression was grim, his mind focused on the task at hand. But beneath the surface, a storm raged. Gerald's words—his accusation—had struck a nerve.
The boy had called them monsters, and Nick wasn't sure he could argue. But he pushed the thought aside. There was no room for doubt, not now.
As they approached a group of vampires feasting on a fallen werewolf, Nick raised his hand, his fingers curling into a claw.
Dark energy crackled around him, the air growing cold. "Enough," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.