Davina pulled her car into the long horseshoe driveway, the Charger's engine rumbling low as it approached the mansion's front steps. Evening light spilled across the estate, catching on the tall iron gates behind her and the rows of manicured hedges that lined the drive. The mansion itself rose like a silent sentinel—white stone, tall windows, and the faint glow of chandeliers flickering behind the glass.
It was home.
The place she had lived since she was five.
The place Stephan Ren had promised would always be hers.
And one of the many things he left behind after he and her mother, Nicole, were murdered.
Davina parked, the engine cutting off with a soft click. For a moment she sat there, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as memories threatened to surface—her mother's laugh echoing in the halls, Stephan's warm hand on her shoulder, the night everything changed. She exhaled, pushed the door open, and stepped out.
As she climbed the marble steps, the front door swung open before she could reach it. Sebastian stood there, tall and composed as always, dressed in his immaculate black suit. His silver hair was tied back neatly, and his expression was the same calm mask he wore no matter what chaos the world threw at them.
"Welcome back," he said, stepping aside with a small bow.
"Your guest is in the sitting room."
"Thank you, Sebastian." She offered him a tired smile before brushing past him into the foyer.
The mansion's interior was warm and golden, lit by the soft glow of antique sconces. Her footsteps echoed faintly as she crossed the polished floor and entered the sitting room.
A man rose from one of the velvet armchairs as she entered. Blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, posture too alert for someone supposedly relaxed. He extended a hand.
"You must be Mr. Frey. I apologize it took me so long—I was in the middle of class."
"That's perfectly alright," he said with a polite smile. "And please, call me Ben."
Davina sat across from him, crossing one leg over the other. "So what brought you all the way to Welson?"
"I need the help of Siren."
Her brows lifted. "Siren? You don't mean the rumored vigilante running around the city, do you?"
"I do."
"I'm afraid I can't help you with that."
"I think you can."
"And why is that?"
"Because you are her."
The room seemed to still. Davina's jaw tightened.
"And you're Speed," she countered coolly. "But I don't go around telling people, so I'd expect you to do the same."
She stood, but Ben rose with her.
"Please. Just hear me out."
Davina crossed her arms. "Fine. Talk."
"Something is coming to Welson—something you can't handle alone. And the only way to stop it is if you help me stop it in York City first."
"And what exactly is 'it'?"
Ben pulled out his phone, swiping quickly before handing it to her.
Davina began scrolling through the images. Her breath caught.
A face she hadn't seen in six years stared back at her—cold eyes, a cruel smile, the same scar across his cheek.
"This is—"
"Lucifer," Ben said quietly. "The man who named himself after the fallen angel."
"The man who killed my family," Davina finished, her voice low. She lifted her gaze to him, eyes sharp. "You came to me knowing this?"
"Yes."
She tossed the phone back to him, anger flickering beneath her calm exterior. She could feel Sebastian's presence just outside the doorway—silent, watchful, ready.
"What is he planning?"
"From the intel my team gathered, he's creating a drug that grants temporary super strength. But once it wears off, the user goes insane—violent, uncontrollable. It's already circulating through York City, United City, and Salone."
"All cities with heroes," Davina muttered.
"What is it you need me for exactly? From what I can tell, if you team up with Hero and Songbird, you should be fine."
Ben exhaled, shoulders dropping. "Unfortunately, they both have crises in their own cities they can't abandon."
Davina shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't help you."
Ben didn't sit back down. He stood there, jaw tight, hands flexing at his sides as if he were fighting the urge to pace.
"Davina… Siren… please." His voice dropped, losing its confident edge. "If Lucifer succeeds, York City is only the beginning."
Davina turned away from him, staring out the tall window. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the estate grounds. Her reflection in the glass looked like someone else—someone tired, someone haunted.
"You don't understand what you're asking," she said quietly. "I spent years trying to bury that part of my life. To bury him."
"And he's digging himself right back out," Ben countered. "With a shovel made of bodies."
A muscle in her cheek twitched. She didn't turn around.
Outside the sitting room, Sebastian shifted his weight. She could feel his concern like a pressure in the air—he had been with her long enough to sense when her past was clawing its way to the surface.
Ben took a step closer. "I know what he did to your family. I know what he took from you. But if you don't help me stop him, he's going to take a lot more from a lot of people."
Davina finally turned, eyes sharp. "Don't use them to manipulate me."
"I'm not," he said, raising his hands. "I'm telling you the truth. Lucifer has already tested the drug on civilians. We've seen the aftermath. People tearing through buildings like they're made of cardboard. People who don't even recognize their own families before they—"
"Enough." Her voice cracked like a whip.
Silence fell.
Ben swallowed hard. "I'm not trying to drag you back into hell. I'm trying to stop it from spreading."
Davina exhaled slowly, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "You said something was coming to Welson."
Ben nodded. "Lucifer has a list. Cities he wants to destabilize. United City was first, than it was Salone and York City. Welson is next."
Sebastian stepped into the doorway at that, his voice calm but firm. "Miss Davina, if this man is threatening the city—"
"He's not threatening it," Ben interrupted. "He's preparing to destroy it."
Davina shot him a glare. "Sebastian, it's fine."
But Sebastian didn't move. His presence was a silent reminder of everything she stood to lose.
Ben reached into his jacket again—slowly, carefully—and pulled out a small metal device. He set it on the coffee table between them. It hummed faintly, glowing with a soft blue pulse.
"This was found in one of Lucifer's abandoned labs," he said. "It's a prototype dispersal unit. For the drug."
Davina stared at it, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
"He's not just planning to sell it," Ben continued. "He's planning to release it. City‑wide."
Her breath hitched.
Ben's voice softened. "I didn't come here to force you. I came here because you're the only one who's beaten him before."
Davina closed her eyes.
Images flashed behind her eyelids—her mother's scream, Stephan's body on the floor, Lucifer's smile as he walked away.
She opened her eyes again, and they were colder.
"Get out," she said.
Ben blinked. "Davina—"
"Get. Out."
He hesitated, searching her face for something—fear, anger, resolve. But she gave him nothing.
Finally, he nodded. "If you change your mind… you know where to find me."
He walked past Sebastian, who watched him with a protective stillness, and disappeared down the hall.
The front door closed.
Davina stood there, staring at the device on the table, her pulse pounding like war drums.
Sebastian stepped closer. "Miss Davina… what will you do?"
Davina didn't answer.
But her eyes said everything.
TO BE CONTINUED