ADRIAN'S POV
I was precisely where I always am waiting, and the silence of my cell in Hell's Watch was an exquisite instrument, perfectly tuned to amplify the subtle hum of the world beyond its walls. I was lounging on my cot, running a calloused thumb over the detailed, cold ink of the dragon coiled on my forearm, contemplating the chaos I had unleashed that morning. Arthur Vance was a necessary, bloody punctuation mark, and he was the perfect gift for Captain Cole.
I knew the CSI offices would be a beautiful, terrified mess. I knew Levin would be screaming. And I knew, with the absolute certainty of a predator understanding its prey, that Nate Cole would be consumed by the violence, the breach of security, and the sheer audacity of the delivery. The body was my professional message; the location was my personal response to his audacity in the corridor. I had claimed his body; now I was claiming his jurisdiction.
