Charlie watched in horror as Lester had his goons hoist Declan up, each thug holding one of his arms, which hung limp, battered, and barely recognizable under the bruises and blood. Declan tried to resist, a final defiant struggle, but his attempts were met with cold brutality - each goon twisted and snapped an arm with bone-cracking precision, leaving him dangling between them, helpless.
But the worst was yet to come. Lester stepped forward, his face a sickening mask of delight as he raised his taloned hand. With one vicious swipe, he raked his claws across Declan’s face, tearing deep into his skin, his nails coming away bloody, bits of flesh caught beneath them. Declan’s scream tore through the alley, raw and primal, filled with a pain that shook Charlie to her core. She felt every note of it, every ounce of his agony, until she couldn’t bear it anymore.
“Delicious,” Lester murmured, licking the blood from his claws with a sick grin. “Bon appétit, boys.”
All three descended on Declan like vultures, closing in for the final blow.
That was it. Something snapped in Charlie, and before she knew it, her legs were moving, her body operating purely on instinct. She turned and ran, her mind barely processing anything but a singular, driving need to get away. By the time she regained her senses, she was blocks away, sprinting down the Strip, her pulse hammering in her ears.
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Hands trembling, she fumbled her phone from her clutch, pulling up the rideshare app and scheduling a pick-up. Luckily, in Vegas, she didn’t have to wait long - her car pulled up within seconds. She checked the plates, barely glanced at the driver’s face, and climbed in, sinking into the back seat.
The driver shot her a glance, taking in her tear-streaked face, but he wisely said nothing. He’d seen enough in this town to know when someone needed nothing but silence. She stared out the window, neon lights streaking past in a blur, as tears slid silently down her cheeks.
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From a rooftop overlooking the alleyway, a cloaked figure watched, tracking Charlie’s retreat as she disappeared down the street. Then her gaze shifted back to Declan, her expression hidden but her posture unwavering.
“Sir,” she murmured, speaking softly to an earpiece, “I believe I’ve found the one we’ve been searching for. But we should hurry; his assailants are about to go too far. I’m not sure he’ll recover from this.”
She tilted her head as though listening, and a faint tension in her shoulders betrayed the response.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, her tone somber. “Understood, sir. You’re correct, as always. If he can’t return from this, then he isn’t the one. It will be done.”
She lingered, watching as the three figures crowded around Declan, her gaze turning pensive as they closed in on their prey. With a quiet sigh, she stepped back from the edge of the rooftop, her form seeming to blur, then simply dissolve into the night, as if she’d never been there. It was the magician’s art of vanishing, except she needed no stage, no trick of light - only the shadows that folded around her, swallowing her completely.