Devil may cry Chronicles
"I have to do this," Melanie whispered, clutching the hem of her soaked coat tighter. Her breath was misty in the cold night air. "I have to do this for you,Kim.for both of us."
Her lips trembled as she said her daughter's name. The image of Kimberley's wide grey-blue eyes flashed in her mind,the same eyes that tied her forever to the monsters she was trying to destroy.
"What if I die?" she muttered,her voice breaking as the thought clawed through her mind. Her heart clenched painfully. "Who would take care of you then?"
The question hung heavy in the wet air. No one would,no one except her. That was why she couldn't back down now,she just couldn't afford to.
Melanie forced herself to look at the street ahead. Rain slicked the asphalt, blurring the neon signs into streaks of red and blue.Cars hissed by, their headlights sharp in the darkness. She wiped at her damp cheek not sure if it was rain or tears.
She whispered again, steadying herself. "This is the only way in,the only way close enough to burn them."
Her chest tightened as she saw it…the black Maserati, its lights cutting through the storm, powerful, fast and undeniable. Her pulse quickened and her stomach twisted…this was it.
"Please, God," she whispered,her voice shaking. "Don't let this be the last thing Kim remembers me for."
And then she stepped off the curb.
The screech of tires tore through the night,headlights blinded her and then came the brutal slam of metal against flesh.
The world snapped sideways and pain burst along her ribs as her body hit the asphalt. Her knees scraped raw and she gasped,air refusing to fill her lungs,her chest clenchingpainfully.
Rain pelted her face and her cheek pressed into cold pavement slick with oil and water. She tasted blood,sharp and metallic at the back of her throat. For a moment,everything inside her screamed to give in,to let the dark swallow her. But she couldn't,not yet,not until the plan was set in motion.
A door slammed shut and footsteps cut through the rain,measured,heavy,unhurried and they stopped beside her.
"Move the car," a man ordered,his voice was deep,steady and wrapped in authority that did not need to be explained.
Another voice answered quickly "Yes, Boss." Tires squealed faintly as the vehicle was shifted away.
The man crouched and a large hand gripped her jaw,turning her face toward him. His touch was firm but not gentle and through blurred vision she saw him clearly for the first time.
Grey-blue eyes studied her with sharp intensity. Dark hair plastered to his forehead by the rain. The collar of his shirt hung open,revealing a chest marked by tattoos,his expression was carved from suspicion not concern.
"She's alive," he muttered. "But why the hell would she throw herself in front of me?"
Melanie let her eyelids flutter,her lips trembling. A soft groan left her throat, weak but audible.
"Don't speak," he said,pressing his palm lightly against her shoulder to keep her down. "You'll tear yourself up worse."
Her chest heaved,her body genuinely hurt,her ribs were on fire with a gash on her temple bleeding freely. She couldn't fake this part even if she wanted to.
"Boss,ambulance?" the younger man asked,his voice rushed.
"No, we'll take her ourselves." His eyes didn't leave Melanie's face. "I don't want anyone asking questions until I know what this is."
Strong arms slid under her body, lifting her from the ground. She winced involuntarily, her head falling against his bare chest. His grip was secure but rigid,as if he were holding a weapon he hadn't decided whether to keep or discard.
Her lips parted and a whisper slipped out before she could stop it. "Please…"
His jaw tightened but he didn't answer.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee. Nurses rushed forward when the doors burst open.
"She's injured.."
"She was hit by my car," he cut in,his voice clipped. "Get her treated."
"Sir,we need her information…"
"You'll get it when she wakes up. Until then, do your job."
No one argued,they moved quickly, guiding him to a bed. Only when the doctor insisted did he set her down,his eyes never leaving her.
Machines beeped softly as they attached wires and IV lines and a nurse cleaned the wound at her temple. The doctor ordered scans and through it all,the man stood at the foot of her bed,his presence commanding enough to make the room feel uneasy.
"She's unconscious," the doctor said finally. "Possible concussion and a fractured rib. She'll need to stay overnight for observation."
The man folded his arms,his expression hard. "Then she stays under guard. No one touches her without clearing it through me."
The doctor hesitated,then nodded.
Hours passed and Melanie's body ached even in sleep, shifting between shallow breaths and moments where her chest seized with pain. She drifted in and out of hazy dreams, Kimberley's voice calling for her,her father's face smiling before turning into blood and gunfire,Ezra's hand gripping her wrist like a shackles and each dream left her trembling against the sheets.
And every time her eyes flickered open, even briefly,she saw him.
The man hadn't moved,he sat in the corner now,a dark silhouette against the sterile white walls,his gaze fixed on her. Not with pity,not with kindness but with suspicion.
A nurse whispered near the door "That's Zade Falcon." The words carried fear. "If he brought her in,she's either very lucky or very cursed."
Melanie's lashes lowered,even half-conscious, her mind latched onto the name Zade. The eldest,the one who mattered most.
Her plan had worked,she was inside his world.
But as she drifted again into darkness,the last thing she saw was his eyes narrowing,watching her like a man who didn't believe in accidents.
When her breathing steadied and the monitors beeped in a slow,even rhythm, Zade finally pushed away from the wall. His steps were soundless on the sterile tile as he crossed to the door.
In the hallway,his right-hand man straightened at once. The younger man's shoulders were tense, his dark suit damp from the rain outside. He glanced toward the bed where Melanie lay unconscious, then back at Zade, waiting.
"Find out who she is" Zade ordered quietly. His tone was low but edged with steel. "I want everything. Where she lives,who she knows and why the hell she thought it was smart to run into my car."
"Yes,Boss."
"And do it clean,I don't want any noise." His gaze lingered through the small window in the door,watching the still form of the woman on the bed. "If this was staged,I want to know who sent her."
The man nodded sharply and strode off,phone already at his ear.
Zade remained in the corridor for a long moment. His hand flexed at his side,jaw tight. He had seen plenty of accidents in his life,he had caused enough himself to know the look of panic,the raw confusion of someone who had nearly lost their life.
But this woman?
Even bleeding,even half-conscious, her eyes had searched his like she was measuring him. She hadn't looked like prey,she had looked like someone stepping into a role.
Zade exhaled through his nose,cold and steady. He didn't trust easily,he trusted patterns,instincts,the sharp edge of suspicion that had kept him alive through decades of enemies waiting for him to slip and everything about this felt wrong.
His gaze sharpened on the door one last time.
"Nobody crosses my path by chance" he thought. "If she's lying,I'll break her down to the truth myself."
Then he turned and walked into the darkened hall,leaving the faint echo of his steps behind him.