The penthouse was silent, bathed in the soft, violet light of a New York dawn. I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city awaken. Below, millions of people were beginning their mundane lives, oblivious to the fact that a war for the soul of a supernatural empire had just been fought in the hills. My neck still throbbed: a steady, rhythmic pulse that matched the heartbeat of the man sleeping in the next room.

I looked at my reflection in the glass. I looked the same, and yet,