Howl of the Forgotten

THE SHADOWS MOVE

The café seemed to shrink.

Not physically—just in awareness.

Every sound sharpened. Every breath counted.

The woman who had walked in stood perfectly still. She didn’t reach for a weapon. Didn’t show aggression. That made her more dangerous than if she had.

Elias didn’t stand. He didn’t posture. He simply looked at her.

“Who?” he asked.

She hesitated—just long enough to reveal fear.

“Pierce,” she said quietly. “She didn’t come alone today.”

Of course she didn’t.

Tessa’s pulse sped—but her face stayed neutral. She remembered his words. Observe first. React second.

The elderly café owner didn’t say a word. He simply slid the door bolt closed, like this had happened before. Like this wasn’t new.

Elias finally stood.

“Tessa,” he said, turning to her. “When we walk out of this building, you stay beside me. Not ahead. Not behind. Beside.”

She nodded once. No confusion. No protest.

“Good,” he said.

The woman stepped forward. “There are two black SUVs at the end of the street. They think you don’t know they’re here.”

Elias almost smiled—a tired, knowing kind of smile.

“They always think that.”

Tessa realized something then—

He wasn’t fearless.

He was familiar with danger.

It didn’t surprise him. It was part of his rhythm.

The woman moved to the back entrance. “This way.”

But Elias didn’t follow her.

“No,” he said. “We go through the front.”

Silence.

Tessa didn’t understand—not yet. But the man behind the counter did. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

“You were raised here,” the old man said quietly. “So was your pride.”

Elias didn’t deny it.

He pushed open the café door.

---

The street was quiet—the kind of quiet that wasn’t natural.

Two parked SUVs. Tinted windows. Engines running without sound.

Tessa walked beside him—just like he’d instructed. The world narrowed to footfalls and breath.

One SUV door opened.

A man stepped out. Clean suit. Gloves. A face that looked built to disappear into crowds.

“Mr. Kane,” the man said calmly. “We’d like to speak with you.”

Elias didn’t stop walking.

“If you wanted to speak,” he said, “you would’ve come inside.”

The man smiled. “The environment wasn’t secure.”

Tessa felt it—

That was the wrong sentence to say to Elias Kane.

The air shifted.

“You don’t decide what’s secure for me,” Elias said.

No raise in volume. No threat. Just a fact that altered gravity.

The man’s smile faded.

“We don’t want conflict.”

“Then step aside,” Elias replied.

Another door opened.

A second man emerged—this one larger, posture coiled, waiting for permission to act.

Tessa’s breath caught—but she kept her face still.

Elias didn’t look at the men.

He looked at Tessa.

“Tell me what you see.”

Her mind raced—but she focused.

“The first one negotiates,” she said quietly. “The second doesn’t. The second is waiting for the first to fail.”

Elias nodded once.

The first man exhaled. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“No,” Elias said, stepping forward. “You are.”

Then it happened fast.

The second man lunged.

Tessa didn’t scream. She didn’t move back.

She simply watched—because Elias had already moved.

He didn’t fight with panic or frenzy.

He moved like someone who had been trained young—and for the right reasons.

One step to the side.

A grip behind the elbow.

A shift of weight—clean, sharp.

The large man hit the pavement before he knew he was falling.

No wasted motion.

The first man didn’t reach for a weapon.

He raised both hands, palms open.

“We’ll leave,” he said. “But this isn’t finished.”

Elias stared at him.

“If it were,” he said, “you’d be dead.”

The man swallowed.

They got back into the SUVs and drove away.

No shouting.

No chaos.

Just retreat.

Tessa stood silent beside him.

Her heart was racing—but her expression was steady.

Elias looked at her.

“You didn’t flinch,” he said.

“I didn’t have to,” she answered.

He nodded—slowly.

Approving her in a way that mattered.

“Good,” he said. “You’re learning.”

But Tessa wasn’t thinking about that anymore.

She was thinking about the look in Elias’s eyes when he moved—

That cold, sharp precision.

Power wasn’t the scariest part of him.

Control was.