Dead Mans Game

Dante

The night air was heavy with a strange weight-quiet, yet not still. I could still feel the ghost of Hector's presence coursing through my veins, the rush of seeing his face again after so many years of imagining him smothered beneath the dirt he had made for himself. Since I'd followed him through the alleys reeking of oil and gunpowder, my heart hadn't beat with less intensity.

He was alive