Wind blew fiercely, the darkness hovered in the air, and the life in his hand was gone. Like a flicker of dust, she came and was gone too fast for him to grasp what was happening. The intruder's eyes widened.
"Oh no," he muttered. His steps staggered backwards, but before he could make a run, swords were aimed at him from every direction.
The thundering steps of Damon echoed within the apartment walls. "I see you came," he smirked, staring at the perpetrator.
"It was not my doing... she wasn't the target," the man cried. But Damon smirked. "The target," he chuckled bitterly.
"Of course, she wasn't the target, for I wouldn't be standing here having this conversation if a hair from his head had gone missing."
Chills spread through the room, the air suddenly too cold and uncomfortable.
