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“Got it.”
Gunnar hangs up, and we exchange looks that don’t require words. The game has changed, and none of us are under any illusions about what comes next.
“Everyone ready?” Roman asks, his gaze lingering on Cassie.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, her voice steadier than I expect.
“Good.” Roman nods once, decisive. “Let’s move.”
We gather our few possessions quickly, the mood shifting from anxious waiting to the kinetic energy of action. We don’t have much, and we always stay packed—a few clothes, supplies, and of course, guns. We’re almost ready to go, gathering by the door, Roman taking out his keys.
“I brought the van,” he says. “We load up, then we drive. Vance cleared a route for us through the city. We need to—“
He’s interrupted when, as if on cue, the distant sound of engines shatters the fragile calm. I move towards the window, peering through the gap in the curtains. Outside, the street is alive with the rumble of armored vehicles…and I don’t think they’re Vance’s people, given that he’s trying to keep a low profile.
No…this is the Eclipse.
They’re sending everything they’ve got at us.
“Oberon, what is it?” Aisling’s whisper is a flicker of warmth in the chill air.
“Trouble,” I say, moving away from the door and catching Gunnar’s eye. His hand hovers near the gun at his hip, his stance ready, like a coil waiting to spring.
“Vance’s people?” Roman asks, stepping up beside me, his voice just above a murmur.
“Doesn’t feel like backup,” I reply, and the ground beneath us agrees, vibrating with the weight of impending doom. I don’t know exactly why they’re bringing in all this firepower—we’re just five people, after all—but I guess that just confirms how bad they want us.
Aisling, Cassie.
And me, Roman, Gunnar.
We’ve transgressed on their territory, and they’re out for blood.
The others join me at the grimy window, peering through the dust and grime smeared across its surface.
“Shit.” The word falls from Gunnar’s lips, raw and stripped of hope. Outside, the sleek black cars idle like predators, their engines growling a warning we can’t ignore. Eclipse troops spill from the vehicles, a swarm of dark intent.
At least twenty of them.
Caius is getting desperate.
“Looks like Vance’s cavalry got beat,” Aisling says, her voice tight but not breaking. She’s right. We’re on our own, and the board has flipped against us.
“Back door, now,” I snap, motioning to the others to get to the patio. It’s a couple floors down, but we don’t have any choice—we’ll have to jump for it. Our exit isn’t graceful—more a scramble of limbs and sharp breaths, each of us making the plunge—but there’s no time for finesse when survival’s on the line.
“Keep close,” Gunnar orders, as we slip into the narrow alley that reeks of trash and lost chances. “Move fast, keep quiet.”
“Where are we even going?” Aisling’s question is valid, the echo of our collective fear.
“Anywhere but here,” I answer, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders like an unwanted crown. We dart through the shadows, the clatter of our footsteps drowned out by the rumbling of those merciless engines behind us.
“Left at the next turn,” Gunnar directs, his knowledge of these backstreets our lifeline threading through the labyrinth of despair we find ourselves in.
“Can’t believe we’re rat-running from our own turf,” Roman mutters, but there’s no bite to it, only the bitter taste of reality.
“Stay focused,” I bark, the frigid night air biting at my lungs as we push forward. My crew, my responsibility. We’ll escape this, not because fate decrees it, but because failure isn’t an option I’m willing to entertain—not with so much at stake.
Quick glances and hand signals keep us bound together, a silent dance with death nipping at our heels. As we round another corner, the distant wail of sirens begins to fill the night. They’re not here for us—not yet—but the sound is a reminder of the thin ice we tread upon.
