NO ONE MOURNS THE WICKED.

THEO'S POINT OF VIEW. I stood in the heavy downpour and watched as my father was jumped by ten different homeless guys with knives. The sound of his grunts of pain as they stabbed him in other places should probably have done something to my heart, or mind….but all I could think about was Seraphina, my mother, and my sister. About the fact that they’d be safer without this monster close to them. I’d been waiting for this moment all my life, dreaming of the day he would die… but for some reason, I couldn’t do it…something always stopped me. “You good?” Lucien asked from where he stood beside me. I stared at the guys, each of the horsemen who pulled up for me tonight. All I needed to do was tell them that I needed their help, and they all showed up without asking questions. The tattoo we got years ago burns in my back like we’d just gotten it, as I feel my strength rising from theirs. We’d all shared a form of darkness or the other, borne from the experiences we’d shared as children at t