The rain didn't let up. Every drop hammered against Ava's hair and coat, turning her hair into a wet curtain that clung to her face. She could barely see the shadowy figure advancing from the SUV, but she could hear the slow, measured steps echoing on the slick pavement.
"Stay behind me," Damien commanded, his voice sharp. His eyes were fixed on the approaching threat, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring.
"I can't just stay here!" Ava shouted, teeth chattering from cold and fear. "I need—"
"Don't argue," Ethan interrupted, grabbing her other arm. His grip was firm but careful. "Right now, survival isn't negotiable."
The stranger stopped a few feet away, hooded head tilted slightly, assessing them like prey. Ava's heart hammered. She wanted to scream, to run in the opposite direction, but her body refused to obey. She felt paralyzed.
Damien glanced at her and muttered under his breath, "They know you're afraid. They feed off it."
Ava's stomach churned. "I'm not a child!" she snapped, though her voice wavered.
"No," Ethan said, "but fear makes you human—and that makes you predictable."
The figure's hand flicked toward a hidden weapon.
"Now!" Damien yelled.
In a blur of motion, both men lunged forward, throwing themselves between Ava and the stranger. There was a sudden rush of motion, a metallic clang, a sharp shout. Ava stumbled sideways, barely keeping her footing, her heart pounding like a drum.
Ethan's coat brushed past her as he tackled the stranger, grappling violently. Damien moved with lethal precision, intercepting a second attacker that had emerged from the shadows.
Ava's mind raced. This wasn't just some random threat—it was organized. Professional. Merciless. And she was in the middle of it.
Somewhere in the chaos, she noticed movement along the street—a flicker of someone climbing a fire escape, then another figure disappearing into the darkness. Her pulse shot up.
"Damien!" Ava screamed. "There's more coming!"
He didn't respond immediately, too focused on his opponent, but his eyes flicked toward the sound. Then he moved with calculated speed, dragging one assailant to the ground, his fists striking with precise power.
Ethan grunted, struggling against the hooded figure. "Ava—get down!"
She dropped to her knees instinctively, rain soaking her completely. And that's when she saw it—a glint of metal on the ground, almost hidden in the reflection of the streetlights. A key? A knife? She didn't know, but she recognized the danger immediately.
Her instincts screamed at her. She grabbed it before anyone could stop her.
Damien and Ethan noticed immediately. Damien's eyes widened slightly. "You found it," he muttered under his breath. "Where did you learn to do that?"
Ava's mind raced. "I don't know! It just… felt right!"
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Good. Keep that feeling. You're going to need it."
Another shout rang out—a warning. More figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding them. Ava realized, with a chill she couldn't ignore, that the entire street had become a trap.
She looked at the two men, both fighting ferociously, both drenched and dangerous in their own ways. The contrast between them had never been clearer: Ethan, precise and calculating; Damien, raw and lethal. And somewhere in the middle of them… was her.
Ava's heart skipped as adrenaline surged. She wanted to cry, to run, to beg, to fight—but there was no time. Her survival instincts had taken over.
Then, suddenly, the first attacker broke free from Damien's grip, lunging toward her.
"Move!" Ethan shouted.
But it was too late. The figure reached for her.
And in that instant, a loud screech echoed through the street—a sudden explosion of sound as a car barreled down the lane, forcing everyone to dive for cover. Water sprayed across the pavement. The stranger was knocked off balance.
Ava's mind raced. She saw an opening—a chance to escape—but also knew she couldn't leave the two men, not now.
Damien grunted as he tackled another assailant. "Go!" he barked at her. "Run!"
She hesitated. Heart torn. Danger in front, protection beside her, chaos all around.
The stranger recovered, a dangerous smile creeping across his hidden face. "You think she can survive?" he hissed, more to himself than anyone else.
Ethan's voice cut through the rain: "She has to. Or we all fail."
Ava didn't understand what he meant. But she didn't have time to.
She sprinted down the street, feet slipping on wet asphalt, rain stinging her face, heart pounding violently. Behind her, shouts, gunfire, and the pounding footsteps of those hunting her echoed in terrifying rhythm.
She rounded a corner—and froze.
A wall of glass. A dead end.
And from the reflection, she saw them: two men emerging from the shadows—Ethan and Damien, but with expressions she had never seen before—fear. Desperation.
The stranger's voice echoed again, closer now. "End of the road, Ava Cross. You can't run from your mother's legacy. Not tonight. Not ever."
Her heart froze. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.
And then, from the shadows… a third figure appeared. Tall. Silent. Hidden under a dark hood. Only their hands were visible, and they held something gleaming.
Ava swallowed. She recognized it instantly.
It was her mother's pendant.