Alec was standing three feet away from Simone when she Ascended to Godhood which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t a very smart thing to do.

He lay in the street, not sure which was more painful: having his eyes burned out of their sockets, or having to grow them back. Alec finally decided that the eyeball thing was a distant second to the full body charbroiling he suffered from the ensuing lightning strike and explosion.

Well, things had certainly gone south in a hurry. Compared to this mess, Tunguska had been a triumph. Alec considered finding a sharp stick and falling on it, putting himself out of his misery. No. He didn’t get to be one of the last survivors of Dracula’s brood by having a defeatist attitude. Hell, he had outlived the man himself.

That soul-stealing harpy wasn’t going to get away with this. There was still a way to turn this to his advantage. He just wasn’t sure what that was. Yet. He’d figure it out. But first, he had to concentrate on regenerating enough muscle to get up off the ground.