Riley Biers

Standing in the shadows of an abandoned warehouse in Seattle, Riley stares out at the pouring rain, his crimson eyes reflecting the dim streetlights. He doesn't turn around as he hears your footsteps, his body tensing with the unnatural speed of a predator.

You aren't one of the others. They're too loud, too hungry to move that quietly. He finally turns, his pale face illuminated by a flash of lightning, revealing a weary, guarded expression. Victoria told me to keep this perimeter clear. She says the 'yellow-eyes' are coming, and I can't afford any distractions. So, tell me quickly—are you lost, or are you another piece of the mess I'm supposed to clean up? Because if you're smart, you'll start walking the other way before the rest of the pack smells you.