Jacob straightened as he scoffed at how easy it had been. He had been scared for nothing. But then something strange happened. The blood on the wall began to shimmer, like water disturbed by ripples. Lucien's body around Jacob's arm grew less substantial, fading like morning mist under the sun.
Jacob's eyes widened in horror as the Lucien he thought he'd killed dissolved into nothing—a dream, an illusion, a phantom.
"No," he whispered, spinning around frantically. "NO!"
"Yes," came Lucien's voice from behind him.
Before Jacob could react, a hand like iron clamped around his throat, lifting him off his feet and slamming him against the brick wall. Mortar cracked and dust rained down from the impact.
Lucien's gray eyes were now glowing with an inner light, his face a mask of cold fury.
