Ethan's blood turned to ice as the voice vibrated through the receiver. He remembered that tone—oily, high-pitched, and filled with a repulsive, self-satisfied glee. It was the same man from the underground auction, the one who had tried to place a bid on Emily, Alexandria's daughter. He was a man with the face of a sexual maniac, a predator hiding behind a veil of gold and influence.
"Sylas Scavenger," Ethan said the young man, his voice dropping to a dangerous, guttural whisper. "The last person I ever wanted to hear from again."
"Oh, don't be like that, Ethan. We're both businessmen," said Sylas, followed by a wet, smacking sound of his lips. "My son Marcus is currently in a coma thanks to your little... electrical outburst. That was very rude. My family has spent generations perfecting the art of 'guardianship' in this country."
"Guardianship? You're a pack of dogs who found a way to monetize misery," Ethan said the leader.
