Chapter 12

Disorientation slammed Mark like a physical blow. The world was a dizzying blur of flashing lights and shattered glass, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of gasoline. His head throbbed, his ears rang, and it took a moment for his senses to reorient.

The car was upside down, the world tilted on its axis.

“Ria!” Mark yelled, his heart jumping into his throat as he saw her slumped against the crushed dashboard, eyes shut, a thin line of blood trickling down her forehead.

He shook her shoulder, panic edging his voice. “Ria, come on, wake up!”

She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. “M-Mark?”

“You okay?”

“I ... uh I don’t know,” she mumbled wincing.

Pain shot through Mark’s shoulder as he tried to move. Fuckk...

The car was a mangled wreck, doors jammed shut. He kicked at the shattered remains of the passenger window, clearing away the jagged shards of glass.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

He helped her wriggle through, supporting her weight as she stumbled onto the pavement. Then he hauled himself free, heart hammering against his ribs.

Once they were both safely out, he cupped her face, gently wiping away the blood from her forehead. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I think so,” Ria said, her voice steadier but still pained. “Just a bit banged up. You?”

“I can manage.”

Catching their breath, the aftermath of the crash surrounded them like a nightmare come to life. The twisted metal of the car, shards of glass glinting in the dim light, and the acrid stench of gasoline.

Then, that gut instinct, honed by years of living on the edge, kicked in. A chill went down his spine. He turned, scanning the shadows.

Under the flickering streetlights, two figures emerged from the darkness.

One was a woman, her skin an unnatural pale gray. A mask hid the lower half of her face, but her piercing gray eyes seemed to glow. Strange symbols snaked across her exposed skin, disappearing beneath the high collar of her long coat.

Beside her stood Elia, his one good eye gleaming.

SHIT...

“Looks like we meet again, Sparky,” he drawled, his voice dripping with venomous glee.

“What do you want?”

“Just settling a score,” Elia smirked, tapping his eye patch. “An eye for an eye, wouldn’t you say?”

Mark let out a frustrated sigh. Of all the nights...

“You know these people?” Ria whispered.

“Ran into them a few nights ago,” he explained. “They were trying to kidnap someone.”

“Kidnap?” Her eyes widened. “Who?”

“No clue. Some woman. Just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Ria stepped forward, her voice laced with a chilling calm. “Who the hell are you, and what do you want?”

Elia chuckled, a low, creepy sound. “Ah, the princess of Crescent, in the flesh. Lovely to finally meet you.”

“Shut it,” Ria snapped, her voice like ice. “Walk away. You don’t want to do this.”

“I don’t think you’re in much of a position to make demands,” Elia countered, his smile widening.

“Back off,” Mark warned, stepping forward, fists clenched.

“Sorry, pretty boy. Can’t do that.”

The air crackled with tension, the silence broken only by the distant city noise and their ragged breaths.

The woman in the mask stood silent, her presence dark and unsettling.

Elia’s grin twisted into a feral snarl. Then, with a shimmer of displaced air, he vanished.

Mark reacted instantly, his hands sparking, ready to fight.

Elia popped back up a few feet away a moment later. Mark reacted, shooting a lightning bolt. Too slow. But Elia vanished, the electricity sizzling harmlessly against the pavement.

“Damn it!” This cat-and-mouse crap is getting old.

A whistling sound cut through the air, followed by two more. Three knives, their blades glinting like moonlight, flew straight at Mark. He twisted, dodging the first two, but the third knife embedded itself in the brick wall right next to his head, missing his ear by an inch.

The masked woman stood there, her arms out, fingers dancing in intricate gestures, summoning wave after wave of flying blades.

Just as Mark braced for another attack, a wall of ice, jagged and imposing, shot up from the pavement in front of him. The knives slammed into the frozen barrier, stopped dead in their tracks, their blades encased in thick frost.

He glanced at Ria, her eyes blazing with cold fury that matched the ice she controlled. Damn, she’s—

Elia appeared behind her, reaching for her throat, but a sudden forest of ice spikes burst out, thwarting his advance. Swearing under his breath, he recoiled before disappearing in an instant.

The woman flung her coat open, revealing a frankly excessive collection of knives strapped to her chest, each gleaming under the streetlights. With a flick of her wrist, they detached, rising like a swarm of pissed-off hornets, aimed at Mark and Ria.

“Right,” Mark muttered, hands crackling with sparks. This is nuts.

He launched a bolt of lightning at the woman. Two knives spun, their trajectory shifting intercepting the electrical charge. The lightning dissipated, showering the pavement with sparks.

Okay, those aren’t normal knives.

Elia shimmered behind Mark, leg cocked back for a kick. Ria reacted instantly, a wave of ice surging across the pavement. Elia slipped, his attack going wide.

Adrenaline pumping, Mark spun and lunged, his fist connecting with Elia’s jaw. Oof. The impact felt good.

They grappled, a chaotic mess of fists and kicks, bodies slamming into a parked car, the metal groaning under their weight.

Elia threw a punch at Mark’s gut, but he dodged and retaliated with a vicious uppercut, catching him under the chin. Elia staggered back, struggling to stay on his feet.

Just as Mark is about to press his advantage, a sudden flurry of knives sliced through the air with deadly accuracy. Reacting instinctively, he dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding the lethal projectiles that whizzed past his head.

Ria fired a flurry of ice shards. The woman swayed, fingers dancing, deflecting the incoming projectiles with a symphony of spinning knives. Metal clashed against ice, a percussion of violence.

Distracted, Mark took a blow to the gut. The air whooshed out of his lungs. He doubled over, gasping.

Elia flickered back, grinning. “You’re going down, Sparky.”

Mark straightened, wiping blood from his split lip. “Not tonight,” he growled, hands crackling, power buzzing. Focus.

“Why don’t you show me that little trick again?” Elia taunted.

“What trick?”

“Those blades,” he nodded at Mark’s hands. “The ones that carved up my face. Just curious how it works.”

Shit. Mark cursed his impulsiveness.

He lunged. Elia shimmered, vanishing a split second before the blow landed. He reappeared behind Mark, his laughter taunting.

I really fucking hate this ... Mark whirled, unleashing a flurry of punches, raw rage fueling each strike.

Elia dodged and weaved, fluid and unpredictable, but Mark pressed his onslaught. Speed and strength pushed his muscles tight as electricity crackled across his fists.

Pain exploded in Mark’s knee as Elia’s kick landed with brutal force. He staggered, barely keeping himself upright. Son of a bitch ... A spinning knife blurred towards him. His barrier snapped up just in time. Clang.

The distraction cost him again. Elia, ever lurking, reappeared directly in front of him. Mark barely saw the movement before a fist slammed into his jaw, sending his head snapping back. Stars burst behind his eyelids, the metallic tang of blood flooding his mouth.

“Fuck!”

These assholes are tag-teaming us. They were coordinating their attacks, a perfectly timed one-two punch of distraction and pain. Every time Mark focused on one, the other would strike. Same with Ria.

Elia, grinning cruelly, vanished again.

Another knife whistled past, aimed straight at his heart. A shard of ice shattered the blade mid-air. He glanced at Ria—a whirlwind of ice and fury, deflecting knives that spun around her like a deadly halo.

The masked woman locked her unsettling gaze onto Ria, her own target reeling from delivering protection rather than defense. The hovering knives responded, diving towards her in a synchronized attack.

Ria slammed her fist into the pavement, and the ground erupted in a chaotic explosion of ice, jagged spikes forming a defensive wall. The air crackled with the sound of shattering ice and the metallic clang of thwarted weapons.

Ria wasn’t done yet. She casually flicked her wrist, turning the ice spikes into a swirling vortex of lethal projectiles, all heading straight for her enemy. A storm of razor-sharp ice zoomed towards its target, moving in wild and unpredictable paths that were impossible to dodge.

Then Elia was there, his arm around the masked woman’s waist. The air distorted around them as they shimmered, vanishing a heartbeat before the ice reached them.

“Damn it,” Mark mutters under his breath, scratching his head in frustration. How the heck to take these guys down?