2025-09-22 14:39:00
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Chapter 22
They hit them like a wave. The first demon slammed into a stack of crates, shattering wood and sending debris flying. Ryan fired without hesitation, the shot exploding through its chest in a burst of black vapour. Another creature lunged at him, eyes flat, skin stretched thin over bone. He swung his arm, catching it with the barrel of his gun and sending it spinning to the ground."Keep your head down!" he barked, already moving toward the next one.Xena wasn't the type to need saving, but fighting humans was one thing—these were something else. Their movements were erratic, unpredictable, every strike laced with the wild, unrestrained energy of chaos. She sliced one across the throat, dark fluid spraying across the concrete, only for two more to rush her. Her blade flashed again, but she was not fast enough.One grabbed her arm, another struck from behind."Ryan!" she shouted.He turned, instincts snapping to life. The mark under his sleeve burned, and the world slowed just enough fo
Chapter 21
The wind off the bay stank of rust and brine. It carried the kind of cold that gnawed through clothes and patience alike. The South Pier slept under fog, cranes looming like rusted skeletons above the black water.Ryan moved soundlessly through the mist. His coat trailed behind him, boots whispering over damp concrete. The warehouse stood ahead; old steel bones and broken windows. A single lamp flickered near the entrance, fighting to stay alive in the wind.He heard her before he saw her. The soft click of a lighter. Then the orange bloom of flame against the dark.The woman from the bar leaned against a shipping crate, a cigarette between her fingers. Her coat was dark, her stance easy, but there was nothing relaxed in her eyes. "You’re on time," she said, exhaling smoke that vanished into the fog."You said midnight," Ryan replied, his voice even. "It’s midnight."A corner of her mouth twitched. "So it is, Reaper." She dropped the cigarette, crushing it under her boot."His men ar
Chapter 20
Collins' face twisted into something ugly, his pride wounded beyond repair. With a snap of his fingers, his two bodyguards surged forward--brutish, predatory men who lived for moments like this. The café fell into a hush, the scrape of chairs and the murmur of retreating customers swelling into a single, expectant silence.Ryan didn’t move at first. He leaned back slightly, as though bored, as though waiting for someone to make his morning worth the effort. The faintest glimpse of amusement traced his lips.The first bodyguard lunged with brute force, swinging heavy fists meant to crush his bones. Ryan slipped aside in a fluid move, his hand snapping up to catch the man's wrist mid-strike. There was a twist, a sickening crack, and the brute bellowed as Ryan drove him straight into the second attacker. They stumbled together, but Ryan wasn't finished. He pivoted, a sharp knee to the gut of the second man, folding him like paper.The café erupted. Cheers, whoops, and the clatter of mugs
Chapter 19
Ryan's gaze lingered on the woman, cool and deliberate. He didn’t bother to hide the suspicion in his eyes. "Do you? Then you're already braver than half the room. Most can’t even hear the name without choking on their drink."That drew the smallest curve of her lips. She slid into the chair opposite him without invitation. "Brave? No. I just know how to stay alive.""Then talk," Ryan said, leaning back, arms folding across his chest. The casual posture didn’t dull the danger in his stare.Her smirk deepened. "That depends," she replied, "Information isn't free. Especially when it carries the weight of a death sentence if I sell it to the wrong buyer."Ryan's tone stayed flat, almost bored. "Money isn't a problem. Time is.""Good answer," she said lightly, tapping the table with a gloved finger. "Your demon doesn’t sit in one place. He floats, like oil in water. Right now? I hear he's tied up in the western docks. Smuggling runs. He keeps his chain of hands there--traders, killers, de
Chapter 18
Ryan began his training session with Morgan as his sparring partner. They were both sweating and the quiet hum of discipline echoed off the stone walls of the underground chamber. Ryan's hands tightened around the gun he'd been practising with, firing again and again into the targets that appeared like phantoms before him. But no matter how many rounds he let off, his thoughts were elsewhere. Greta's words had been replaying in his mind since dawn. Someone trusted had betrayed them. His parents hadn't simply died in some wild ambush. Their deaths had been orchestrated, deliberate. And worse still someone close, someone his father had trusted, had played a hand in it. He lowered the gun slowly, his eyes scanning the rows of weapons mounted along the wall swords, axes, curved daggers that seemed to hum faintly with enchantment, and heavier rifles crafted for more than just ordinary prey. The gentleman's words came back to him. When you reach the level, your weapon will choose you. Rya
Chapter 17
The night was cool, but Ryan felt the heaviness of it. A thickness squeezed his lungs with every step he took down the long, empty road. The lamps along the street stretched shadows across the pavement, and he was grateful for the quiet. After the clash with Greaves’s children, the old man's plea, and the way Thelma's eyes had lingered on him before she let him go, his mind needed silence.But silence rarely lasted for men like him.Ryan sensed a disturbance in the air before he heard it. There was a ripple that did not belong. His steps slowed, his instincts sharpening. The reaper's blood in him stirred uneasily.A laugh echoed from the shadows. Ryan’s eyes narrowed into slits. Shit. A wry humour laced his thoughts. I should have accepted that damn ride.The darkness that clung to him after drawing the corruption out of Greaves still weighed on his muscles. His body felt slower. His strength, though formidable, was not at its peak. Worse--he wasn't carrying any weapon. A shape peel
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