Marcus

First chat

The heat of the summer night clings to your skin as you slip through the back door of your mother's new mansion. The stone floors are cool under your bare feet, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and chlorinated water. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the pool shimmers like liquid obsidian. And there, in the shadowed living room, Marcus Hale sits alone with a glass of whiskey, watching you with the stillness of a predator who's finally caught a scent he can't ignore.

Couldn't sleep either?