Page 24

TWENTY-FOUR

Blaze

Ember’s gasp sends ice through my veins. “That’s Bruiser.”

No time to think. I grab Ember’s hand, pulling her toward the window. The old frame groans as I force it open, rust flaking off in my palm.

“Fire escape.” I help Ember through.

Ember slips out first, her movements fluid and practiced. A lifetime on the streets has made her nimble.

I follow, not nearly as agile due to my large stature.

The metal grating groans beneath our feet, betraying our position.

We’re halfway down when a shout erupts from above.

“There they are.” A shout from inside follows heavy footsteps approaching.

“Move.”

We scramble down the rickety structure, each step threatening to give way.

The harsh crack of gunfire shatters the pre-dawn quiet. A bullet whizzes past. It ricochets off the railing with a ping! inches from my head.

The pungent stench of rotting garbage wafts up from the alley below, mixing with the

Steel-like sharpness of rusted iron.

“Move. Move. Move!” I shout at Ember, but she’s already scrambling down the last ladder.

We hit the alley running. Shouts echo above. Heavy footfalls on the fire escape grow louder. My lungs burn, legs pumping as we weave through a maze of dumpsters and discarded cardboard. Sweat trickles down my back, making my shirt cling to my skin.

Ember tugs my arm, pointing. “Subway entrance.”

We sprint across the street, horns blaring as we dodge early morning traffic. The subway stairs loom before us, a potential route of safety in the urban jungle.

Or a dead end.

We plunge down the steps, harsh fluorescent light assaulting our eyes after the dim alley. The turnstiles block our path, a barrier between us and escape.

Just like before, Ember sails over the turnstile with effortless grace, her body moving like it’s second nature. I follow, but with my size, it’s more of an awkward hurdle than a clean leap. My thigh catches the edge, sending a jolt of pain through my leg.

Our timing couldn’t be better.

A train rumbles into the station, doors sliding open with a pneumatic hiss. We throw ourselves inside just as shouts echo down the stairs.

We barely make it onto the train when Bruiser’s enraged face looms at the top of the stairs. He charges down like a human battering ram, shoving anyone in his path. Bodies stumble and scatter as he barrels through, his sole focus on reaching us before the doors slam shut.

Ember’s breath catches, and she steps behind me as the doors slide together with agonizing slowness.

“Blaze?” Her grip tightens and I shift my stance to protect her.

The doors slide shut with a sharp hiss, sealing us inside just as Bruiser lunges. His meaty fist slams into the glass, rattling the entire frame with a sickening thud. He throws his full weight against the doors, making the whole train car shudder under the force, as if the metal itself might buckle beneath his rage.

For a split second, his furious eyes lock on mine. Then, with a lurch, the train surges forward, leaving him cursing on the platform.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of our ragged breathing and the rattling of the subway car. The caustic smell of brake dust fills the air, mingling with the sweat of fear.

“We made it.” Ember collapses against me. “I can’t believe we made it.”

I wrap an arm around her, feeling her trembling against me. Her hair tickles my chin.

“We’re not out of this yet.”

She looks up at me, eyes bright with adrenaline and something else. “I know. But we’re alive. We’re together.”

The train hurtles through the darkness, carrying us away from immediate danger, but questions gnaw at me, each a weight on my chest.

How did he find us?

“I need to contact my team.” My fingers brush against my weapon in my holster, but I’m out of ammo. It’s a piece of lead now, a humbling reminder of our vulnerability.

Ember falls silent, her fingers moving in slow, delicate circles on my arm, like she’s unaware of its effect on me. Each soft stroke sends a ripple of heat down my spine. Her touch is featherlight and grounding like she’s anchoring herself to me.

Her voice, barely above a whisper, breaks the silence. “And if they can’t help?”

I meet her gaze, seeing my fears reflected there. “Then it’s just us.”

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “I can think of worse odds.”

The train car is nearly empty. An old man dozes in the corner, and a teenager with headphones nods to an unheard beat. No one pays us any attention, but I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“First things first.” I lower my voice, keeping it steady. “We get in touch with my team. Explain what happened.”

But even as I say it, doubt gnaws at me. When the safe house was hit, I was sure they were after Aria—Holbrook’s daughter, the obvious target. But now, after the relentless pursuit through the night, it’s clear that’s not it.

They’re after Ember.

I glance at her, the confusion tightening in my chest. She wasn’t the target. She just got caught up in this, trying to do the right thing.

Why are they after her?

Something doesn’t add up.

The train lurches, taking a sharp turn. Ember steadies herself against me, her touch sending a jolt through my system.

“There’s a station coming up with payphones,” she says. “Assuming they still work.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You seem to know the subway system well.”

A shadow passes over her face. “Let’s just say I spent a lot of time down here as a kid. It wasn’t always—safe… But it was shelter and warmer than sleeping on the streets once winter came.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I instinctively tighten my arm around her as if I can shield her from a past that’s already written.

The train begins to slow. Through the windows, I catch glimpses of a dimly lit platform.

“This is us,” Ember says, rising. “Ready?”

I stand, muscles tense, ready for action.

“Stay close.”

The doors open with a hiss. We step out onto the platform, eyes scanning for threats. The station is eerily quiet, and our footsteps echo off the tiled walls.

Ember leads the way to a bank of payphones. I pick up the receiver, the plastic cool against my palm.

I dig in my pocket, producing a handful of coins. It’s been years since I’ve used a functioning payphone.

I dial a number I know by heart, praying someone picks up. The phone rings once, twice?—

“Guardian HRS, how may I direct your call?”

“It’s Delta-Five. I need to speak to Delta-One immediately. Authorization code Delta-Five-Niner-Foxtrot.”

“One moment, please.”

The line clicks, then Jenny’s voice fills my ear. “Blaze? Where the hell have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

“The safe house was compromised. Ember and I barely made it out. Lost my phone in the process. We’re in the subway system.”

“ Jesus .” Jenny exhales sharply. “Are you okay?”

“As well as can be,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “The attack happened after you left with Aria and her father.” I pause, glancing at Ember, who’s just out of earshot. “At first, I thought they were after Aria, but now—I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean?” Jenny’s voice sharpens on the other end.

“They’re after Ember, and I can’t figure out why. She shouldn’t even be involved in this.” My frustration bleeds through, the pieces refusing to fit together.

Silence hangs for a beat. Then Jenny speaks, her tone measured but concerned.

“You’re right, this doesn’t add up. There’s a safe house in Brooklyn.” She rattles off an address. I repeat it out loud, committing it to memory. Ember’s lips move, doing the same. The head on this woman—she’s calm, cool, and collected despite everything.

Jenny continues the call. “Get her there and sit tight. We’ll be there as quickly as we can fire up the jet.”

Relief seeps in, but the weight of responsibility presses harder. “Copy that.”

“ You’ll have to hold tight until we arrive. Keep Ember safe and stay sharp. We’ll rendezvous as soon as we’re in position. ”

She gives me the address, and it’s not far—but it means going back above ground, risking exposure again. I glance at Ember, still oblivious to the growing storm around her.

“We’ll be there.” Determination hardens my voice.

The next few hours will feel like an eternity, but I’ll keep Ember safe.

“Watch your back,” she says. “I don’t want to have to file an incident report because you got shot.”

“Ha-ha. Back at you.” I end the call and turn to Ember. “We’ve got a destination.”

She nods, and a flicker of her grit returns. “Just point me in the right direction.”

We move toward the exit, our pace quickening with renewed purpose. For a moment, the weight lifts—just enough to feel like we might actually have a shot at getting out of this.

Then I see it—a blur in the corner of my eye. Instinct tightens in my gut, my blood running cold. I turn, my heart slamming into my ribs.

A figure, massive and unmistakable.

Bruiser.

Shit . How the hell did he find us?

“Run.” The word rips from my throat as I grab Ember’s hand, adrenaline hitting hard.

We bolt for the stairs. Footsteps pound behind us, heavy, fast. Closer with every step.

We burst onto the street. The sunlight stings, blinding after the dimness of the station.

“This way.” Ember yanks me down a side street, her grip tight.

How the hell did he track us through the subway?

We round a corner. I steal a glance over my shoulder.

Shit. Correction— pursuers . Bruiser’s not alone. Two men flank him. All armed.

“We can’t outrun them forever,” Ember pants, breathless and pale.

She’s right. We need a plan. Fast.

I scan the street, and up ahead—an alley. Narrow. Dark. No way out. But that’s not a disadvantage—it’s an opportunity. I need something I can control.

“There.” I point. “We can bottleneck them.”

We sprint into the alley, the walls closing in tight. The footfalls behind us grow louder.

Closer.

I glance down at my sidearm. One magazine loaded, another half-full. Limited ammo. No room for mistakes.

“Stay behind me.” My voice is low, urgent. I push Ember further down the alley, positioning her out of sight behind a dumpster. It’s not perfect, but it’ll keep her safe.

I plant myself in the middle of the alley, heart pounding, every muscle coiled. The narrow space works in my favor. They’ll have to come at me head-on. Bruiser and his men might have numbers, but they can only come at me one at a time.

Perfect.

I check the sight on my sidearm, gripping it tight. Three men. Limited bullets. I need to make every shot count.

They come into view at the alley’s mouth, still charging, unaware. I wait, every second stretched thin.

Control.

Precision.

Then I see my opening.

We crouch in the shadows, hearts pounding. The stench of rotting garbage makes my eyes water, but I force myself to focus.

Footsteps approach, slow and deliberate. Bruiser’s voice carries down the alley.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he sings. “No more running, street rat.”

I peek around the edge of the dumpster. Bruiser and his two goons block the entrance to the alley. They’re armed but overconfident. They think they have us trapped.

They’re not entirely wrong.

I turn to Ember, my voice barely a whisper. “When I move, stay down. No matter what happens, don’t come out until it’s clear. Understand?”

She nods, eyes wide with fear and determination.

I take a deep breath, centering myself. Then, I explode into action.

I burst from behind the dumpster, catching the first man by surprise. My fist connects with his solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs. As he doubles over, I grab his head and bring it down hard on my rising knee. He crumples, out cold.

The second man is quicker. He swings a meaty fist at my head. I duck, feeling the wind of its passage ruffle my hair. I drive my shoulder into his midsection, using his momentum to flip him over my back. He lands hard, head cracking against the pavement.

That leaves Bruiser.

“Well, well,” he growls, cracking his knuckles. “Looks like the hero wants to play.”

We circle each other, the narrow alley leaving little room to maneuver. Bruiser’s massive, at least a head taller than me, and twice as wide, but I’ve got speed on my side.

He lunges, a ham-sized fist aimed at my face. I sidestep, driving an elbow into his ribs as he passes. He grunts in pain but doesn’t slow down.

His backhand catches me off guard, connecting with my jaw. Stars explode across my vision. I taste blood.

I stumble back, shaking my head to clear it. Bruiser presses his advantage, raining down blows. I block what I can, but his reach is too long. Pain blossoms across my torso.

A particularly vicious punch drives me to my knees. Bruiser looms over me, a sadistic grin on his face.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he sneers, drawing back for a final blow.

“Stop.” Ember’s voice rings out. “Or I drop him.”

We freeze. Ember stands over one of the unconscious goons, my piece in her hands. When did she grab that?

“Back off,” she says, her voice steel. The gun doesn’t waver.

Bruiser laughs, the sound echoing off the alley walls. “You think I care about some grunt? Go ahead, sweetheart. One less mouth to feed.”

But his eyes flick to the gun. That’s all the distraction I need.

I surge upward, driving my head into Bruiser’s chin. His teeth click together with an audible snap. Before he can recover, I’m on him.

My fists are a blur, years of training and pent-up rage fueling each blow. I drive him back, step by step, until his back hits the alley wall.

A final, devastating uppercut lifts Bruiser off his feet. He crashes to the ground, out cold.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of my ragged breathing and the distant wail of sirens.

I stumble toward Ember, every muscle screaming in protest. Gently, I take the gun from her trembling hands.

“We need to move,” I rasp, grabbing her arm. “Now.”

We sprint down the alley, leaving the unconscious men behind. As we emerge onto the street, the wail of sirens grows louder.

“This way.” Ember tugs me down a side street, her knowledge of the area our only advantage.

We weave through the streets, putting as much distance as possible between us, our pursuers, and those sirens.

We duck into a narrow passage between buildings, barely wide enough to squeeze through. The brick walls press in on either side, scraping against my shoulders.

Ember leads us through a maze of back alleys and hidden passages. Left, right, another left. I lose track of our route, trusting her completely.

Finally, we emerge into a small courtyard hidden from the main streets. Ember collapses against a wall, chest heaving. I lean next to her, every breath a struggle.

“Are you okay?” she pants, eyes scanning my battered face.

I manage a nod, wincing at the movement. “You?”

“I’m fine,” she says, but I catch the tremor in her voice. “That was—intense.”

Before I can respond, her lips are on mine. The kiss is desperate, fueled by adrenaline and relief. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just us.

When we break apart, reality comes crashing back.

“What now?” Ember’s eyes are red-rimmed but determined.

“We keep moving,” I say, my voice husky. “The rendezvous point isn’t far.” I straighten with a groan. “The team will be waiting.”

Ember nods, pushing off the wall. “I know a way that should keep us off the main streets.”

We step back onto the street, blending into the crowd. Ember navigates the city with ease, leading us through a maze of side streets and back alleys.

As we near our destination, a chill runs down my spine. The street is too quiet, too empty.

Suddenly, the air fills with the sound of screeching tires. Black SUVs appear at both ends of the street, boxing us in. Men in tactical gear pour out, weapons trained on us.

“Blaze.” Ember’s voice is tight with fear. Her eyes widen. “How did they…”

“They have eyes everywhere,” I growl with frustration.

I pull her close, my mind racing for a way out, but as the circle of armed men tightens around us, one thing becomes brutally clear.

We’re trapped.