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They rounded a stack of crates, and there he was—Romano, crouched against the wall, his clothes torn, his face pale and streaked with dirt. His eyes widened as he saw them, scrambling to his feet, but there was nowhere to go. The wall was at his back, and Caius and Selene blocked his only way out.

“End of the line,” Caius said, his voice cold.

Romano’s lips curled into a sneer, but it was shaky, his bravado crumbling. “You think you’ve got me? I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

Selene stepped forward. “Spare us the games, Romano. Who let you out?”

He laughed. “No one. I...