The night had thickened into near-dark, the city's fog curling between the alleys like living smoke. Harper followed Leo and Damon, their movements silent, measured, every step deliberate. The faint pulse of shards ahead hummed against the air, a low, electric vibration that seemed to vibrate through her chest.
Leo's hand brushed hers once as they turned a corner—a fleeting touch, protective and intimate, yet Harper caught a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Damon walked a step behind, silent but observant, scanning every shadow with the precision of someone who'd already calculated the odds of every threat.
"Keep your eyes on the pulse," Damon murmured, voice low, almost to himself. "He's moving them fast. Too fast."
Leo tilted his head, a shadow of his half-smile appearing. "We'll catch up. We just need the right angle."
