He stomped through wet grass and dead leaves. His chest burned, shirts and vest soaked through like he’d fallen into a river instead of running through a goddamn park.

  He was fast enough to outrun most things, but not fast enough to shake whatever the hell was glued to his back. Even when there weren’t any footsteps, he still felt that odd feeling at the back of his neck, the one that had followed him since he’d been about to reach his truck.

  Right… truck. Fucken dickhead. He should’ve just driven instead of running away like an idiot; then he might’ve reached her before she left on her business trip.

  Tonight, he’d finally worked up the nerve to tell her, that he couldn’t stop watching her because he knew she watched him too.

  Right?

  He shook his head and clenched his shaking hands to get rid of the doubt. He made a sharp right turn, rounded the park, and got back to the street where he’d parked. It wasn’t that late, but the lights from the worn-down heritage homes were off. Guess only old blokes could afford these places.

  And finally, there was no more pressure on his back now. Maybe he’d lost the bastard. He saw his parked truck about two hundred metres away.

  Just out of curiosity, he looked over his shoulder—

  and jumped. “Fuck.”

  A pair of sharp, cold eyes locked onto his.

  His body reacted, something inside pushed him forward. He didn’t want to fight, yet the need to see her felt almost like compulsion.

  “Get outta my way!” He dropped a hand under the nearest sedan and lifted it with a grunt, muscles tight and veins drawn.

  “Why the fuck are you after me?” He shouted.

  She simply stared at him.

  He snarled and threw the car at her.

  A blade blinked into her hand, light eating shadows. She moved once. One clean arc, fast as hell. Even with enhanced vision, he couldn’t follow it.

  The car split clean in midair.

  Metal hit the ground with a crash. Glass burst outward and froze around her like it feared her more than gravity.

  She didn’t walk through the wreckage. She stood in it untouched. Wind played with strands of silver hair, catching the moonlight just enough to make it glow. The glass sparkled before falling slowly onto the footpath.

  She looked less like a threat, more like an actress who played some sort of tragic, fragile beauty or something. Well, until her eyes glowed red.

  Too hot, too cold. Divine, like she wasn’t even part of the world.

  Divine? Seriously? What the f—

  She was in front of him in a blink. A touch at his neck, her sweet scent filled his lungs and the lights went out.

  THUD.

  Static crackled in Astra’s earpiece.

  “Miss Astra,” her partner’s voice came through, dry and slightly amused, “would it kill you to give the poor man a reason before knocking him out?”

  “It might.” She pulled out her phone, pinged her location to the Council’s cleanup crew and looked up her next target. “And talking takes time. Time means perp number five gets to finish what she started.”

  She moved to end the call.

  “Wait—” he cut in. “Fifth target?”

  Astra frowned, glanced around, and spotted a camera dangling from a residential eave. The red light blinked at her.

  She glared at it.

  In her ear, a long sigh followed. “We still haven’t discussed your… new arrangement.”

  “We’re discussing it now,” she muttered, “apparently.”

  “Unilaterally, I’d say. Also, five targets? In one night? That’s not just above quota. It’s a direct violation of health and safety protocol.”

  She could hear frantic keyboard clicking and knew exactly where this conversation was going.

  “Council’s understaffed. Don’t narrate the obvious.”

  “Except,” he said, tone light but leaning toward concern, “none of these targets were assigned to you.”

  “I… traded with Billy.”

  “Billy? As in Agent Billy at St. Kevin’s?”

  After a slightly longer pause, she admitted, “Yes.”

  “And what did you offer him in return?”

  She was about to reply when a black van rolled into view at the far end of the street. She noted the plate, which matched the Council cleanup crew in charge for tonight. Efficient, despite the shortage.

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  Astra stepped into the shadows, locking on her next mark.

  “…Miss Astra?” he asked again, when she didn’t answer.

  “Lunch.”

  “You bought a field assignment with a sandwich?” He didn’t sound like he believed it.

  “It was an Angus burger,” she said. “Double.”

  “That’s not how this works. Shouldn’t Billie be the one buying you lunch for that?”

  Astra didn't reply, nor did she want to. Her mind had switched back into hunt mode.

  The sexual assault predictions were spiking. It wasn’t a surprise, given they were dealing with Lust. The Council had brushed it off as a statistical anomaly until Gifted agents started dropping. Now even deep covers like Astra and Billy were back on street duty.

  Precognition wasn’t science fiction anymore. Council tech could see the shape of violence before it landed. But foresight didn’t stop it, it only gave warnings.

  There weren’t enough agents to cover it all.

  So the Council triaged.

  Terrorism came first.

  Followed by murder.

  And finally, assault — sexual or first-degree.

  Everything else could wait.

  Astra was one of the Elite Gifted Agents who were sent when the targets were too dangerous for anyone else to touch without dying in creatively horrifying ways.

  Her partner’s voice returned, different this time. Too casual to be casual.

  “Astra,” he said gently, “according to records I absolutely have permission to access…”

  Right. The lack of formality meant he was about to be annoying in a way she couldn’t argue with.

  “…you’ve requested Saturday off.”

  Click.

  Scroll.

  “Which also means Billie’s pulling double.”

  Of course. “You're spying on my schedule now?” she grumbled.

  “It’s not spying if I have clearance and use it responsibly.”

  She rolled her eyes. He probably saw it somehow.

  “I’m just saying,” he continued, “in three years, you’ve never asked for a day off. Not for rest. Not for injury. It’s… refreshingly uncharacteristic.” His voice softened. “In a good way.”

  “I… Yeah. Whatever.” She could hear the sound of tea being sipped, followed by the soft chime of his treasured bone china cup meeting the saucer.

  And, slowly, that familiar, warm—but still annoying—amusement returned to his voice. “Miss Astra… are you finally taking time for someone?”

  She cut the line.

  One last target before she was done for the night. Maybe she’d sweep the street again afterwards to be thorough.

  Not that she was nervous about Saturday.

  She had asked Eydis out like it was no big deal, with such forced casualness it barely qualified as a question. Probably why Eydis had looked so confused.

  Because Astra could face monsters without blinking, could fight ancient evils without hesitation, but she could not face that. A rejection. Now she understood why Theo feared it, even though he had no feelings for her.

  It was…

  She slowed.

  Human.

  She blinked again, willing her heart to calm down. Then again, making Eydis slightly off balance was something Astra had started to enjoy a little too much.

  No matter how much she had tried to downplay it, nothing, not a crime wave, not a corrupted Gifted, not even Lust itself, was going to ruin her Saturday.

  Her… d—

  Astra swallowed the word even in her thoughts. Her fingers twitched and her jaw tightened.

  Seriously?

  For the first time in years, her footsteps rang clear against the concrete as she stalked toward her final target.

  And somehow, her shadow felt just a little lighter.

  Eydis sighed at her reflection.

  The black satin dress fell just below the knee and fit better than she’d expected. She tied the front ribbon, buttoned the row of gold accents on her sheer sleeves. The look was understated by her past standards, yet tasteful all the same.

  And best of all, no corset. Surely they weren’t that bad to wear, but if this night went the way she suspected, she’d need all her lung capacity. One hundred percent, because running out of breath mid-seducti—

  Anyway.

  She traced the lace at her sleeve and insisted silently that it was just… good taste, nothing more. Definitely not a strategic move toward a certain someone with a not-so-secret fondness for lace.

  Just to be clear, Eydis drew the line at the choker.

  She gathered her dark waves and draped them over one shoulder. Her exposed skin prickled, though not from the cold.

  Violet mist drifted along her arm before forming into a serpent, dark as shadows with a gleam like violet oil.

  “Your Majesty,” Envy purred, “not to undermine your divine right to vanity, but even Pride would’ve called it quits by now.”

  Eydis continued to adjust her eyeliner, as if precision alone could prepare her for an assassination involving an overly curious Sin.

  “Still,” Envy slithered on, uninvited, “you’ve absolutely levelled up. That dress looks sinuous on you. Unlike those war-crime rainbow kitty T-shi—”

  Her glare could’ve accelerated Envy’s next skin-shedding cycle.

  Envy jumped. “Iconic T-shirts! Visionary, really. Or timeless, because the T-shirts are… art. Uh, contemporary, questionable… art?”

  A soft pop snapped through the dorm room. A pair of ravens appeared, asserting their right to be here.

  “Really, Envy, with the coins we’ve discreetly redirected, Her Majesty could buy an island—or several—if she’s nesting. Why bother with clothes?” one cawed.

  The other cocked its head. “And if you’re in the mood for fancier things, Your Majesty, we’ll have a jet perched and primed before the snake finishes its whining.”

  Envy’s tail lashed. “I’m her most trusted adviser! Right, Your Majesty? Why so quiet? Normally you’d have cracked a one-liner and at least two dodgy BDSM jokes by now.”

  Eydis calmly clipped on a pair of ruby earrings. Then she turned, a smile playing on her merlot-coloured lips.

  “BDSM? One cursed video, and you’re suddenly the spokeserpent for kink.com?” she said coolly. “Ambitious.”

  “You were the one who watched it…” Envy watched, equal parts fascinated and terrified.

  Her voice dropped, her eyes flashing gold. “The ravens are right. I am missing one final accessory tonight. And no, it’s not air travel.”

  Envy brightened.

  “A snakeskin purse,” she said sweetly. “And lucky me, I’ve found just the right texture.”

  Her elegant fingers curled slightly, the air folded inward and shaped a blade of living night that leaked faint violet light. “Only shadows can strip shadows clean. The texture holds best when the donor’s still squirming.”

  Envy dimmed instantly. “W-Wait! I thought we were still in the consensual-strangulation phase!”

  The ravens cackled. Eydis rolled her eyes and waved them into the shadows, blade included. She didn’t have time for their games. Let Gluttony babysit their egos.

  She had bigger problems. Colossal, even. Like the slight, very inconvenient tremble in her hands.

  Not that she was nervous.

  Please.

  She was the Queen of Not-Nervous. Anxious? Her? Never.

  And she would sooner curse her reflection than admit it to Envy, to the birds, or, worse, to herself.

  But… this was a date. Right? Or close enough to pass for one in this hell-dimension. One of those “Hey, wanna come over?” invitations. Except Astra had phrased it with more charm and then disappeared for two nights to punctuate the point.

  Eydis had Goggled the signs. Twice.

  This was a date. Not the sticky kind. Where she came from, courtship involved matchmakers and the explicit blessing of the Queen of Shadows, her mother.

  Eydis had skipped all of that. The former queen had never insisted. Never cared enough to say no. Or yes.

  There was one small benefit to being raised by someone who didn’t bother to interfere.

  Eydis supposed that counted as freedom.

  A soft knock tapped at the door. Right on time. Completely unnecessary, since it was Astra’s room too.

  Eydis inhaled like she was about to face her mother, not her possibly-maybe-sort-of date.

  Calm down. This isn’t a date.

  It isn’t—

  When she saw Astra, her first thought was…

  It is a date. Absolutely. Definitely. 100%.

  now-vanished novel that handled romance like a fast-forward Udemy tutorial. But hey, what would your ideal romantic date be?