Vlad sat in his study, the lamp casting a dim glow over the cluttered desk, his fingers tapping a dagger's hilt, eyes narrowing at the rain pounding the windows. The herb Casey made had failed—Varkis's scent was gone, and frustration gnawed at him. His jaw tightened, lips muttering, "Damn it all." Rifles and traps lay spread out, glinting in the light, a secret he didn't want anyone seeing.
The door creaked open, and Casey stepped in, soaked from the storm outside, water dripping from her hair onto the floor. Her dress clung to her body, outlining her curves, the wet fabric nearly see-through, he could see her erect nipples as her chest rise with quick breaths. Vlad's eyes flicked to her boobs, then snapped away, focusing hard on the dagger, his grip tightening, cheeks flushing slightly.