The stairwell shuddered like a dying beast. Dust rained down in choking waves as Layla shoved through the emergency door, lungs burning.
The rooftop behind them collapsed with a deafening roar, static lightning bursting into the night sky like a furious beacon. It wasn't victory. It was a warning.
"Move!" Layla barked, dragging Cole forward as he carried Isla. "We're not safe yet!"
Cole growled, his jaw set tight. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, flames flickering weakly across his knuckles. "Where the hell do you want us to go, Layla? The hive knows. They always know."
"That's why we keep moving," Layla snapped. Her voice shook but her resolve didn't. "As long as she's breathing, they'll chase. We can't stop."
Behind them, Rhea descended the crumbling stairs with a predator's grace, untouched by panic. She smirked, her voice almost playful."My, my. It's almost romantic—running together through fire and ruin. If it weren't for the homicidal swarm, I'd call this a date."
"Rhea," Layla hissed, "shut. Up."
They burst into the streets, only to be swallowed by chaos.
Alarms wailed. Power lines sparked overhead. People screamed, scattering as black-eyed soldiers staggered through the smoke, some collapsing as Isla's earlier surge tore through their control.
But not all.
Some were still moving—jerky, broken, puppets of static that refused to fall. Their eyes locked on Isla.
"Ours," they hissed in unison.
Cole didn't wait. His flames roared to life, a blazing wall forcing the puppets back. "Over my dead body!"
"Careful what you promise," Rhea purred, ducking beneath a swinging pipe. She lashed out with a blade pulled from nowhere, severing a soldier's wrist in a spray of sparks and blood.
Layla's mind raced. They couldn't fight like this—outnumbered, exhausted, with Isla half-conscious.
They needed cover. They needed somewhere the hive's gaze couldn't easily follow.
"There!" Layla pointed toward a narrow alley swallowed in shadows. "Move!"
They plunged into the alley, the world closing in with dripping pipes and cracked walls. The static storm above dimmed, replaced by the suffocating press of silence.
Cole pressed his back to the wall, his chest heaving, Isla's limp form cradled against him. Her skin still glowed faintly, veins lined with white fire.
"She's burning up," he muttered. His voice cracked in a way Layla had never heard before. "She's burning alive."
Layla crouched, brushing damp hair from Isla's forehead. Her pulse fluttered weakly, but it was there. Alive. Barely.
"She pushed too far," Layla said softly. "But she broke their hold. For now."
"For now," Rhea echoed with a smirk. She leaned against the wall, twirling her knife lazily. "But darling, 'for now' doesn't last long. And when they come sniffing again, you'll wish you'd let her burn out instead of dragging this little liability along."
Cole's eyes snapped to her, fire blazing at his fists. "Say that again. I dare you."
Rhea's smirk widened, unbothered. "Touched a nerve, did I?"
"Enough!" Layla cut in, her voice sharp as a blade. "We don't have the luxury to fight each other. Not now. Not ever."
Her words cut through the tension like steel. For a moment, even Rhea's smirk faltered.
A faint whisper broke the silence."...don't… leave…"
Cole's head snapped down. Isla stirred in his arms, her lashes trembling as her eyes cracked open. The glow had dimmed, but her gaze was still lit by faint static sparks.
"Isla!" Cole's voice softened instantly, the fire in him smothered by something gentler. "I've got you. You're safe."
Her lips trembled. "I… heard them. In my head. They're… still looking. They'll never stop."
Layla gripped her hand firmly. "Then we'll keep running. We'll stay ahead. We'll make them stop."
Tears welled in Isla's eyes, but she shook her head stubbornly. "No. I don't want to keep running. I want to fight. If I'm their target… then I'll be their weapon too."
The alley fell silent.
Cole blinked, stunned. Layla's chest tightened. Even Rhea raised an eyebrow.
"You've got spirit," Rhea murmured, lips curling. "But do you have claws to match it?"
Isla's trembling hand tightened into a fist. Sparks flickered weakly between her fingers. Not enough to fight. But enough to prove her will.
Layla pushed herself to her feet, her eyes hard. She looked at Isla, then at Cole, then finally at Rhea.
"This changes nothing," she said. "The hive won't stop. But neither will we. If they want her, they'll have to go through us—every damn time."
Cole's eyes burned with agreement. "Let them try."
Rhea's smirk returned, sharper this time. "How heroic. How tragic. How utterly entertaining."
She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming. "But if you want to survive, you'll need more than fists and fire. You'll need someone who knows how to dance with monsters. Lucky for you…" She tapped her blade against her shoulder. "…I happen to be an expert."
Layla narrowed her eyes. She didn't trust Rhea. She'd never trust Rhea.
But she knew they couldn't do this alone.
"Fine," Layla said. "For now, we work together. But cross me once—just once—and I'll put you down myself."
Rhea's smirk widened into something almost wolfish. "Oh, darling. I wouldn't dream of it."
A crack of static split the night.
They froze.
From the mouth of the alley, a single soldier stumbled into view. Its body twitched, broken, but its eyes glowed with sickly light. Its voice rasped like static through a broken speaker.
"She… is… ours…"
Cole moved instantly, flames consuming the soldier before it could take another step. The body collapsed in ashes, the alley reeking of smoke.
But the message was clear.
The hive wasn't gone. It was watching. Waiting. Hunting.
Layla's fists clenched. "We need a safehouse. Now."
Rhea chuckled lowly. "Safehouse? In this city? Darling, safety doesn't exist here. But if you're desperate…" She gestured toward the far end of the alley, where a flickering neon sign glowed faintly through the smoke.
A nightclub.
Layla's stomach dropped. She knew that place. Everyone in the city did.
It wasn't a safehouse. It was a trap.
But it might be the only trap the hive didn't expect them to walk into.