CHAPTER 13: “Ashes in the Rain”
1244 Words
The rain was heavier now — thick drops hammering down in silver threads, turning the plaza into a sheet of dark glass. The crowd had swelled, pressing against the barricades. Some shouted her name. Some shouted her old name, Nova. Most didn’t shout at all — they filmed, they stared, they waited.
Waiting for her to fall.
Waiting for her to rise.
Aria’s boots splashed through shallow water as she moved, Dominic at her shoulder. The air smelled like wet stone and ozone, like something breaking open. Behind them, the High Table’s chamber was in lockdown — heavy steel shutters sealing its ornate windows, the sound like a coffin lid closing.
“They’ll be hunting you before you’re a block away,” Dominic said. His tone was steady, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd like he was counting weapons.
“They already were,” Aria replied.
They hit the first cordon, a line of riot-armored enforcers. The officer in front raised a hand, ordering them to stop. She was young — too young for the black wolf tattoo at her neck — but her stance was solid. Rain slicked off her visor in sheets.
“Identification,” the officer demanded.
Aria just looked at her. Not with hostility — but with that same weight she had put on the council in there, the weight that said you know who I am. For a second, the officer’s jaw tightened. Then she stepped aside, motioning her unit to part the line. The crowd surged, but the enforcers pushed them back.
Dominic’s lips curved slightly. “Seems your little broadcast bought us some space.”
“Or it made them want to see what I do next,” Aria said. “Either way, keep moving.”
---
They reached a narrow side street, the roar of the plaza fading behind them. A van was parked in the shadows — Kellen at the wheel, engine running. Aries was already inside, dripping water onto the metal floor. Vincent sat in the back, disassembling a rifle with hands that moved like a metronome.
“You’ve got eight minutes before they block every exit from this sector,” Kellen said as soon as the doors slammed shut. “Traffic cams are already red-flagging your face.”
“I think they’ll be busy with the leak for a while,” Aria said. She peeled her jacket off — the inside was soaked through. Her skin hummed with adrenaline.
“You didn’t just leak files,” Vincent said without looking up. “You gutted them in front of their own audience. You know how long it takes a predator to forget that kind of wound?”
“Long enough for me to hit them again,” she said.
---
The van swerved through tight backstreets, avoiding the main arteries. Kellen’s eyes flicked to the rearview. “We’ve got a tail — black sedan, tinted glass, four deep.”
Dominic twisted slightly, his hand slipping inside his coat. “Crownbite?”
“Not sure,” Kellen said. “But they’re disciplined. No rush, just matching speed.”
“Lose them,” Aria ordered.
Kellen’s mouth twitched. “Hold on.”
The van suddenly darted down a ramp into the underpass, tires shrieking on the slick concrete. For a moment, they were in darkness — the sound of water dripping from the ceiling, the low growl of the engine. Then daylight exploded again as they shot up another ramp, bursting onto a parallel street. The sedan didn’t follow.
“They’ll find us again,” Dominic said.
“Good,” Aria replied. “I want them to.”
---
They didn’t head straight for the safehouse. Instead, Kellen took them to the eastern docks — a place where the city’s skin felt thinner, where steel met the slow, dark water of the bay. The warehouses here were half-abandoned, half-illegal. Perfect for disappearing.
Inside one of the old storage buildings, Aries spread a new map over a crate. This one was smaller — tighter — showing only the districts directly controlled by Alric Damaris.
“We can’t just react,” he said. “They’ll try to spin this into proof of instability.”
“They’ll fail,” Aria said.
Aries’ gaze was sharp. “They won’t if they get their hands on you.”
She stepped closer to the map, fingers tracing the block where the High Table’s private security offices sat. “Then we hit them again before they move.”
Dominic leaned against a steel column, his voice even. “You’ve been awake for thirty hours, you’ve just painted a target on your forehead, and you want to go back in?”
“I want them to know that I’m not just a ghost they can erase,” she said. “I want them to understand that the more they push, the more I move.”
---
Vincent set the cleaned rifle down. “They’ll expect you to hide. You do the opposite, you rattle their rhythm.”
Kellen looked uneasy. “Rattling is fine. Getting cornered is not.”
Aria’s eyes never left the map. “If they want a hunt, I’ll give them one. But they won’t be chasing me — they’ll be chasing their own shadow.”
Aries was watching her like a man who’d found a fragment of something long lost. “You sound like your mother,” he said quietly.
Aria didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
---
The rain had turned into a steady curtain by the time they moved again. This time, there was no rush — they moved like they belonged wherever they went, and that made them harder to see.
Dominic walked beside her as they crossed the dim lot behind the warehouse. “You know they’ll send someone personal now. Not a squad. Someone who knows your tells.”
“I’ve been hunted before,” she said.
“Not like this,” he replied. “These won’t be strangers. They’ll find someone you’ve trusted.”
Her eyes flicked to him. “And if they try that?”
“I’ll be standing beside you,” he said.
---
They reached the van again, loading back in. Kellen pulled into traffic with the same calm precision as before, but this time his voice was clipped. “We’ve got chatter — encrypted. Damaris’s private frequency. Someone’s already on the move.”
“Coming for me?” Aria asked.
“No,” Kellen said. “Going after the hybrids you rallied.”
The air in the van went still.
“How many targets?” Dominic asked.
“Three confirmed so far,” Kellen replied. “Two in the Heights, one near the Verge.”
Aria’s pulse was a steady drumbeat now. “Then we split.”
Dominic’s eyes snapped to hers. “No.”
“They’re not pawns,” she said. “I won’t let them pay for standing with me.”
---
They didn’t wait for a vote. Vincent was already loading fresh mags into his pack. Aries was checking the knife strapped to his thigh.
“We take the Heights first,” Aria said. “The Verge target can disappear into the tunnels — Kellen, you’ll guide them out. Dominic, you’re with me.”
The van roared into the wet streets, tires hissing on the slick asphalt. Every turn felt sharper, every shadow deeper.
They were no longer just playing offense.
Now, it was rescue.
---
- Writer
