The nervous manager of The Lantern.

He was always on the phone in his back office, always worried about his debts.

Dante did not stop walking.

“We will find out,” he said.

He opened the heavy iron door of the garage, revealing a dark, armored SUV parked inside.

He opened the passenger door for me.

“Get in,” he said.

I climbed into the leather seat, the warmth of the interior a stark contrast to the freezing night.

Dante secured Vesper in the neighboring trailer hookup, his movements quick and practiced despite his injuries.

When he got into the driver’s seat, his face was pale under the green dashboard lights.

He started the engine, the powerful motor roaring to life.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his burner phone.

A new message was flashing on the screen.

He stared at it, his grip tightening on the leather steering wheel.

He turned to look at me, his eyes dark with a new, unspoken danger.

“What is it?” I asked.

Before he could answer, the garage doors behind us began to rattle.

A heavy thud echoed against the steel.