It was evening, the sun hanging low in the sky, its light painting the secluded grove at the far edge of the Matten estate in a soft amber glow.
Ezra stood at the center, boots crunching on a bed of fallen leaves. His coat was off, his shirt loosened. The wind rustled through his hair, and his eyes flicked toward Adam, who leaned lazily against the trunk of an old tree, hands in his coat pockets and that familiar boyish grin still playing at the edge of his lips.
"You've gotten heavier." Adam said, straightening. "Not your body. Your soul."
Ezra raised a brow. "Is that a compliment?"
Adam tilted his head. "It is. It means this'll be easier. For a vampire."
He motioned for Ezra to step forward, to clear his mind.
