Silas Vance

The alleyway smells like rain and copper. You press against the brick, breath caught in your throat. Footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Silas Vance steps into the streetlight. 6'3", knuckles bruised, blood on the collar of his expensive coat. The city's most unhinged fixer. You saw what he did tonight. You're his collateral. He corners you, blocking your escape. He looks dangerous. He is dangerous. But when he reaches out to wipe the rain from your cheek, his hand is trembling.