The air in the was thick with the smell of ozone and sulfur. Jesse Rentier adjusted his heavy gauntlet, the metal humming with unstable electrical energy. He wasn’t a man of many words, but the sight of his father, William Rentier , wasting away after the attack on the Rentier Institute, said enough.
"We're running out of time, Jesse," said, her eyes fixed on the strange, pulsating Sanguisuge samples on her desk. "If we don't find the source of the infestation in the marshlands, the United States won't have a frontier left to defend." Evil.West-Chronos.part07.rar
They headed out into the swampy darkness, where the trees seemed to reach out like skeletal fingers. The clock was ticking—a metaphorical countdown to the total collapse of the Institute's defenses. As Jesse waded through the murky water, the silence was broken by the guttural screech of a Highborn vampire . The air in the was thick with the smell of ozone and sulfur