The rain came without warning.
One moment the sky was clear, the next it roared open, drenching the forest road as Emma steered the SUV through the downpour. The headlights cut through sheets of water, and the wipers slapped frantically.
Mr. Darrick Hellsing sat beside her, unusually quiet. His suit jacket hung on the hook behind him, and his sleeves were rolled up—something Emma had never seen him do. He looked… human. Less like the billionaire demon everyone feared.
But she kept her eyes on the road. She had a job: keep him alive.
"Visibility's bad," she muttered. "We should stop at the next safe spot."
"Define safe," he said dryly.
"Somewhere I'm less likely to crash this car and kill your expensive self."
That made him smile slightly.
"Emma… you're doing well."
Her heart skipped—not romantically, but out of surprise. Praise from him? That was new.
Before she could respond, the engine sputtered.
Then died.
The SUV rolled to a stop in the middle of the empty, storm-soaked road.
"You've got to be kidding me," she hissed, hitting the wheel.
Darrick checked the fuel gauge. "We didn't run out of gas."
"I know. Something's wrong. Something tampered."
A crack of thunder split the air—
—and then a bullet hit the car door.
"DOWN!" Emma yanked Darrick across the seats just as more shots rained through the trees. Glass shattered, the side mirror exploded, and mud splashed as shadows moved through the forest.
"They found us," Darrick breathed.
"No—they hunted us," Emma corrected, grabbing her twin knives from the glove compartment.
"How many?" he asked.
She peeked out the broken window, rain stinging her face.
"Six. Maybe eight. And armed."
"Can we outrun them?"
"On foot? No."
He swallowed. "Then what do we do?"
Emma kicked open her door, letting the rain soak her hair, her clothes, her knives gleaming under the storm.
She turned to him and smirked.
"We fight."
◇ ◆ ◇
The forest became chaos.
Thunder. Gunshots. Mud splashing under boots. Emma moved like a phantom, slipping through trees, striking fast and vanishing. She disarmed one attacker with a snap kick, slammed another into a trunk, and ducked as a bullet whizzed past her cheek.
Darrick stayed low behind a fallen tree, following every command she shouted.
"Left! Move!"
"Don't stand—RUN!"
"Duck when I say duck! You're not bulletproof, sir!"
He wasn't useless—he managed to swing a broken branch at one attacker who got too close—but he knew clearly:
If Emma hadn't been there, he would be dead twenty minutes ago.
After what felt like an eternity, the forest fell silent except for the rain.
Emma returned to him, panting, soaked, a cut above her brow bleeding slightly.
"You okay?" she asked.
"You're bleeding."
"It's small." She shrugged. "You?"
He looked at her for a long moment.
"…I've never seen anyone fight like that."
"And you never will again," she said, wiping her brow. "Now help me drag their bodies off the road."
They worked together under the downpour, pushing the unconscious attackers aside. Once they were done, Emma leaned against the car, exhausted.
Darrick approached her slowly.
"You saved my life again."
"Yeah, well…" she muttered, avoiding his gaze. "That's what you paid for."
"Emma," he said softly.
She finally met his eyes.
And something shifted—just a little. Something warm. Something dangerous.
The storm calmed around them.
"You didn't do that for the money," he said quietly.
She swallowed. "Don't try to read me, Hellsing."
"I'm not reading you," he murmured. "I'm noticing you."
Her breath caught for a second—then she pushed off the car, breaking the moment.
"Let's find shelter," she said quickly. "Before more backup arrives."
But as they walked into the forest, side by side, both drenched and alive…
…they each felt something neither wanted to admit yet.
Something growing.
Something deeper than danger.
Something like the beginning of love.