OLEANDER
Under attack?!
"Who are they?" Hex asked, his voice deadly calm.
"I—I—the—"
Hex leaned closer to him. His voice dropped, turning raspy and slurred, too low for me to make out the words.
I stood frozen, watching everything unfold, my legs trembling beneath me.
A few seconds later, Hex grabbed the man's wrist, his gaze snapping to it. There was a mark there. A symbol etched into the skin. A crescent moon with a scythe crossing over it. And then what looked to be a bite mark.
My breath caught.
"What's going on?" I whispered. "What does that mean?"
Hex didn't answer.
He remained crouched, staring into nothingness as if the world around him had vanished.
Fear crept up my spine as I watched his expression change. Worry flickered across his face, then rage, then something cold and unreadable. It all happened in seconds before his eyes lifted and locked onto mine.
I had never seen anyone shift emotions that fast except for Dante.
And it terrified me. Both times.
