Blaze's POV:
You would think a centuries-old vampire like me would be more prepared for shit like this. But here I was—the first one to fall prey to a banshee.
Who would have thought it? The great Blaze, the one who's killed kings, ripped apart entire cities, and survived battles that would make a lesser immortal crumble… and this was what did me in. A fucking banshee. A goddamn shadow ghost.
I had shifted back to my human form, feeling every ounce of frustration flood through my veins as I held Clare back from venturing into the fog. The fog. The same fog that had nearly swallowed her whole, that had twisted her mind and dragged her into a reality where she thought she was actually helping her brother. And now, after all that work I'd done—after saving her, keeping her safe from the banshee's influence—she was trying to throw herself back into that hell.
That's when it hit me. I was blind. Stupid. Completely oblivious.
