Natalie ran back toward the orphanage with one final enthusiastic wave, her pigtails bobbing. Kael lifted his small hand with a shy smile — for a moment, everything was normal. Safe.

  Jordan returned the wave… but the smile never reached his eyes.

  Something was wrong. A chill pricked the back of his neck — a sixth sense honed by years no child should survive. He slowly looked up into the rear-view mirror.

  There — a man in a sea green jacket leaned against a lamppost, head bowed over his phone, flicking the lock screen again and again. No scrolling. No typing. Just waiting. Pretending to be invisible.

  Jordan’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Maybe he was just being paranoid. He had a very tough night and barely slept. He forced a calm that Kael would believe, turned the ignition, and pulled onto the road — slow, unhurried.

  But in the mirror — the stranger straightened.

  Like a predator stretching awake.

  They found us.

  From the rooftop, Neil cursed softly. He saw it in his eyes — the shift, the cold alertness.

  “Oh… there it is,” Neil murmured into his comm, amusement flickering. “Diana’s famed hell-spawn just woke up.”

  He slipped down the fire escape with a speed that made the metal shiver, landing on the pavement with an effortless twirl and a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

  He approached his men at their cars.

  “Let’s go, ladies,” he drawled, sliding into the front seat of the lead vehicle. “Try not to embarrass yourselves like last time.”

  Engines roared. The chase was on.

  Jordan pressed Kael’s seatbelt tighter without explanation. His first move was subtle — a slow roll forward that allowed the cars behind him to draw confidence. Then—

  He shot the car backward.

  “WHAT—?!”

  The tailing car braked too late, striking a roadside barricade with a loud crunch. Jordan spun, tires shrieking, and bolted down a side road.

  Neil was finally relieved. There was going to be at least some fun in ending that bastard’s freedom tonight.

  “Second team! Cut him off—he’s not going to sprout wings and fly!” He paused. “If he does sprout wings — aim for the wings!”

  His men scrambled, engines roaring.

  Jordan drifted into Middle Nolan’s labyrinthine streets — a dense stretch of narrow alleys and construction detours. Recovering fast from the little snag, the cars hounded him again. That’s when Jordan spotted a large municipal water tanker lumbering ahead. He floored the gas—closing in fast.

  “Don’t even think about—” Neil began—

  Jordan swerved—overtook the tanker by inches—

  and as he passed, he grabbed the small emergency pistol hidden between the seats. Kael ducked on time, completely unfazed by the scene unfolding in front of him.

  —BOOM!

  A single shot. The tanker’s rear lock exploded and thousands of gallons burst free in a tidal wave. The first pursuer hydroplaned—spinning out, smashing into a divider.

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  Neil barked into the radio:

  “Use your head you fucking lunatics! Don’t get any closer, only keep him in sight!”

  No answer came. The driver was too busy screaming.

  Neil cursed under his breath. The boy was too quick on his wits and almost stupidly reckless. They were two cars down and it had hardly been minutes. Also with the scene they just created with the water truck, authorities would be alerted soon.

  He suddenly saw an opportunity.

  “Close in now!” He barked into the comm device and the two cars sped past him, in a blur.

  Jordan’s jaw locked. Eyes sharp. Calculating. There was another obstacle ahead and the bastards behind him were already going in for the block. He had taken the first shot with a pistol and he was wondering if they would be eager to return the favor.

  Two city buses, side by side, closing the road into a narrowing funnel.

  Jordan finally made the choice.

  “No. No. He won’t make that.” Neil leaned closer to the windshield as he saw that Jordan accelerated rather than slowing down. A cold chill went down his spine as he saw the boy gathering up speed. Moraine had wanted him alive and unhurt at all costs.

  “He’s not that stupid—” Neil almost prayed to himself.

  Jordan was. He punched the horn, shot into the shrinking gap, Miraculously slicing clean between both buses, leaving the next pursuers to either slam the brakes or—

  CRUNCH

  One car wedged between them like a bug crushed by books.

  Neil stared, lips parting in begrudging awe.

  “…Okay maybe he is that stupid. But effective.”

  His amusement soured quickly as Jordan mounted the footpath, weaving past pedestrians and flower stands.

  “Stay with him!” Neil snapped. “If he drives into a church, I swear—”

  Jordan spotted a bright fruit stand blocking a narrow alley. Kael gasped but Jordan didn’t slow.

  SMASH

  Pomegranates burst like grenades. The car crashed through crates—an explosion of colors raining down the windshield and immediately took a sharp right, narrowly avoiding the Wall in front of them.

  But behind them—

  BAM! A chasing car didn’t know the street and slammed straight into a wall. Neil slammed his fist into the dashboard as the cars behind him came to a screeching halt. But Jordan was already gone, after making that razor-sharp right turn through the hidden alley he knew by heart. He emerged into a quiet residential road — the chase shaken apart behind him.

  Neil rubbed his temple as the comm channel returned with a crackle of failure.

  “Well,” he drawled with a tight smile, “that was educational.”

  He tapped his radio, tone deceptively calm:

  “Call Moraine.”

  Static answered before a weary voice crackled through: ‘Report.’

  Neil grinned — sharp and hungry now.

  “I’ll need another chance,” he said softly. “But next time… I know exactly who I’m hunting.”

  Kael could swear he heard a chuckle from the other end.

  “East Guards are moving in. Call reinforcements. It’s not over yet.”

  Neil's lips lifted in a mad smile, his eyes glinting with a feral hunger. As his hand carefully grazed the upholstered gun, he knew he was going to kill it this time.

  As Jordan pulled into the familiar parking lot, Kael pressed a trembling palm to the window. He wasn’t scared when Jordan mad-dashed across the streets but he was now. Kael knew. His throat tightened painfully. He’s going to leave me behind. Again.

  Jordan stepped out, jaw tight. He opened the passenger door but Kael stared forward — mute.

  Crushed. Angry at his legs, his age, his weakness. He was nothing to them but a burden.

  Somehow, Jordan read all of it. He knelt — gently cupping Kael’s face — and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

  “I’m not leaving you,” he whispered—vow and apology in one.

  He retrieved the folded wheelchair from the trunk, lifted Kael with care that was tinged with more protectiveness than necessary, and settled him into it. He pushed him toward the elevator.

  Because family never gets left behind on the battlefield.

  Jordan knocked on Veronica’s door once — and it burst open before he could finish the motion.

  Veronica stood there - her eyes wide in horror as she stared at the two boys.

  “Veronica, is everything-”

  His words died on his lips as he finally saw who was standing behind her.

  “Look who is back.” Moraine smiled but it never reached his cold eyes.