05

Prologue

Her voice was barely a thread of sound.

“H-he’s following me,” she breathed to the stranger who had stepped up beside her on the dark, rain-slick pavement.

The man—early thirties, athletic build, rain dripping from the hood of his jacket—scanned the empty street. Car lights swept past, but no one lingered.

“There’s no one behind you,” he assured her, touching her elbow as gently as he could. “You’re safe.”

She flinched, eyes wide and glassy. “S-stay away,” she stammered. “H-he said he’d k-kill anyone who talks to me.”

The man’s expression softened. “Listen, little bird, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He tried to guide her toward the glow of a nearby café. “Let me call the police. Favour your rescuer, huh?”

Before he could take a step, a thunder-crack split the night.

The impact punched him off his feet; his phone skittered across the asphalt. He stared at the spreading crimson in disbelief, then crumpled.

Her scream tore out of her chest. Behind the wavering street lamps, a tall figure emerged—coat billowing, handgun steady, eyes fixed only on her. He fired again. The second shot echoed off the shuttered storefronts.

The man on the ground stopped moving.

The shooter prowled closer, breath misting in the cold air. “She belongs to me,” he growled, voice ragged with obsession. “She isn’t your bird. She’s my angel.”

She backed away until she hit a lamppost, nails scraping metal. “You— you’re evil!” she cried, tears streaking rain down her cheeks. “Stay away from me!”

He slung the pistol into an inside holster, then hoisted her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing. She pummeled his back with clenched fists, shouting “Evil! Evil! Evil!” into the sodden night, but her voice was swallowed by the wind—and by the city that had already turned its eyes away.

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