Lloyd was lying in his makeshift cot in the deserted warehouse he was squatting in, sweating, head pounding. The ibuprofen he managed to steal wasn’t doing anything, and he’d already taken too much, his part oni physiology was probably saving him from the affects of an overdose, but it didn’t save him from the discomfort.

Even if he were at his best, he wouldn’t have noticed the person watching him without the help of his energy element, like a sixth sense that alerted him to their life force. There, silent, perched up in the rafters like a ghost.