The rain in Chicago didn't just fall; it hurt. It was that freezing, stinging kind of sleet that soaks through your clothes and settles right in your bones. I stood behind a rusted metal container, my heart thumping hard against my ribs—thump-thump, thump-thump.
I checked my watch. 2:14 AM.
I’d been hunting the Eclipse Syndicate for six years. Six years of bad coffee, no sleep, and always looking over my shoulder. Tonight was supposed to be the night it all ended. We had a tip about a big weapon deal. If we caught them now, I could finally breathe. I could finally get justice for my old partner, Miller.
"Alpha One to Raven," I whispered into my radio. My voice was shaky. "I’m in place. Do you see the deal?"
Static. Just a low buzzing sound.
"Raven, do you copy?"
Nothing. I frowned and tapped my earpiece. Maybe the metal containers were blocking the signal. Or maybe I was just unlucky. I gripped my gun tighter. The metal was cold and slippery from the rain. My hands were sweating even though it was freezing. That’s the thing about being undercover—the fear never goes away. You just get used to it.
I looked around the corner. The pier was creepy and quiet. A black SUV sat nearby with its engine running. Its headlights looked like two glowing eyes in the dark. I saw shadows moving—tall, dark shapes. The Syndicate.
My skin crawled. Every part of me wanted to run. But I’d worked too hard to turn back now.
"Moving in," I said to myself.
I looked up for my partner, Detective Vance. He was supposed to be on the high walkway, watching my back with a sniper rifle. I squinted through the rain, but I couldn't see him. Everything was too dark.
Then, the world exploded.
Gunfire lit up the night. It wasn't aimed at me, though. It hit the crates to my left, sending wood flying everywhere. I dove for cover.
"Police! Drop your weapons!" I yelled. My voice sounded weak against the storm.
Then came the silence. No sirens. No shouting from my team. Just the sound of the rain.
Crack.
A single shot came from above. I saw a body fall from the walkway. It hit the ground with a loud, wet thud just a few feet away from me.
"Vance!" I choked out. I ran to him before I could even think.
I reached him and slid on the wet ground. His eyes were wide, staring at the sky. There was a small hole right between his eyes. He didn't even have his gun out. It was an execution. My stomach turned. This wasn't a raid gone wrong. It was a trap.
"Vance is down!" I screamed into my radio. "It’s an ambush! I need backup! Now!"
The radio hissed. Then a voice came through. It wasn't the police dispatcher. It was a low, humming sound—so cold it made my blood turn to ice. Then the radio went dead.
I didn't have time to cry. Bullets started hitting the ground around me. I scrambled back, my boots slipping on the oily pavement. I fired back three times—pop, pop, pop—but I was shooting at ghosts. They were moving too fast. They looked like blurs of dark smoke.
I ran.
I ducked into a narrow alley between two buildings. My lungs burned. My side hurt where I’d hit a crate, and I could feel warm blood soaking my shirt. I didn't know how bad I was hurt. I didn't care. I just had to get to the main street. If I could find a patrol car, I could survive.
The alley ended in a tall fence with razor wire. A dead end.
I stopped, gasping for air. I turned around, my heart hammering. I checked my gun. Two bullets left. Only two.
"Come on, Rhea," I whispered. "Think."
But I couldn't think. All I could see was Vance’s empty eyes. The radios were dead. No one was coming. Someone had set us up. We were never meant to walk out of here alive.
I heard boots on the wet ground. They weren't running. They were walking slowly. They knew I had nowhere to go.
I backed up until my hit the cold brick wall. The rain made it hard to see. I raised my gun, but my hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold it.
"I have backup coming!" I lied. "Put your hands up!"
Two men stepped into the light.
They didn't wear masks. They were tall and wore expensive dark coats. They looked like they belonged in a boardroom, not a gutter, but they were the most dangerous men in Chicago. Kael and Kai. The Eclipse twins.
I’d seen their pictures, but the pictures didn't tell you how scary they were. The air around them felt heavy, like the feeling before a lightning strike.
I pointed my gun at the one on the left. Kai. He had a mean little smile on his face.
"Stay back," I said.
I pulled the trigger.
Click.
The gun jammed. Or maybe it was empty. Either way, it was the loudest sound I’d ever heard. It was the sound of me losing.
I dropped the gun. My fingers felt numb. I closed my eyes and waited for the bullet. I waited for it to be over.
The rain kept hitting my face.
"Don't move," a voice said.
It wasn't a yell. It was calm and deep. I felt the sound in my chest.
I opened my eyes. Kael was right in front of me. He was so close I could smell him—something like wood, expensive drink, and the forest. He didn't have a gun. He reached out and touched my neck.
His hand was very warm against my cold skin. His thumb moved along my jaw. He looked at me like I was something interesting he’d just found.
"You've been a very busy girl, Detective," he whispered.
I tried to move, to speak, to spit at him. But I couldn't. I was frozen by his glowing amber eyes.
"It’s a shame," he said. His grip got a little tighter. "You’re too pretty to be a corpse."
And then, I felt the sharp, stinging pain of teeth sinking into my neck.