The car spun out of control, tires shrieking against the asphalt, sparks screaming into the night. In that heartbeat of chaos, a shadow tore itself free from the open window and launched toward the black car beside them.
It happened too fast.
The men inside barely had time to turn their heads before gunfire erupted. Bullets rained down in a brutal arc, smashing into the windshield. Glass exploded outward, shattered into a storm of glittering shards that caught the streetlights before vanishing into the dark.
Protective charms flared to life, their magic absorbing the impact. The bullets were stopped, but not without cost. Cracks spiderwebbed across the charms, sigils flickering and dying one by one, while the reinforced suits beneath them groaned under the force.
The men reacted on instinct. Guns were drawn, muzzles snapping forward, fingers clenched tight around the triggers as they fired in a flash of blind panic, bullets shot rapidly—but there was no one there.
