Chapter Seven
Detective Chelsea Smith had her man. She could tell the moment she laid eyes on him. It wasn’t just the car, though that was certainly distinctive. It was the way he carried himself, calm, deliberate, like a predator unconcerned by the lesser creatures snapping at his heels. The kind of man who had broken the law before and would undoubtedly do so again.
His refusal to come down to the station had been the final confirmation she needed. He was their suspect, the one who had turned the Leopard Claws into a smear on the asphalt. The only question now was whether they could catch him.
Her partner, Corey Fielding, was handling the radio calls, his voice gruff and clipped as he relayed their pursuit to dispatch. The chase was chaotic, the suspect weaving through traffic with reckless precision.
“He’s hauling ass!” Corey shouted as Chelsea twisted the wheel, slowing just enough to take a sharp turn without losing control.
The suspect’s car was fast. Too fast. Chelsea gritted her teeth, her eyes darting between the glowing runes on their dashboard and the hellish green glow of the vehicle ahead.
“I’m going weapons hot on this asswipe,” Corey announced, slamming a button on the center console.
Chelsea hesitated. Lethal force was authorized in situations like this, and she wasn’t about to undermine her partner, but she didn’t like it. Killing their suspect might solve one problem, but it would create a dozen others. Still, she was curious to see how he would react.
Pale runes etched into the hood and sides of their car flared to life, and bolts of crackling energy shot toward the suspect’s vehicle. The air hummed with power as the projectiles streaked through the night, each one a lethal promise.
And then the suspect’s car transformed.
Chelsea’s eyes widened as the sleek vehicle shifted, its wheels igniting into stygian green fire. The metal of its frame darkened, taking on the texture of blackened brimstone, and hellish flames licked along its surface. The eldritch green flickers reminded her of something alive, as though the car had taken on a predatory sentience.
Its speed doubled, and the bolts of energy streaking toward it missed entirely, swallowed by the swirling chaos of its aura.
Spectral chains wreathed in dark flames lashed out from the back of the vehicle, their jagged edges cutting through the air. Chelsea’s heart leapt, but the runes protecting their cruiser flared in response, forming an invisible barrier that deflected the chains with bursts of light.
Corey’s radio crackled.
“I’m going for the pit!”
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A squad car from behind surged forward, its driver clearly intending to end the chase with a risky maneuver.
“Negative! Stand down!” Corey barked into the mic. “You don’t know what he can do ye—”
Before he could finish, a vertical red slit appeared in the air ahead of the suspect’s vehicle, opening like the mouth of some infernal beast. Flames roared as the car shot through the portal, and Chelsea caught a fleeting glimpse of another part of the city on the other side before it snapped shut.
The pursuing squad car, unable to stop in time, hurtled through the portal just as it closed.
“Idiot,” Corey muttered, slapping the dashboard in frustration.
Chelsea watched as the suspect’s car reappeared on a distant street, flames pouring from its wheels as it sped around a corner.
“If he can portal, why isn’t he just portaling away from us?” Corey asked, his brow furrowing.
“Because he’s gauging us,” Chelsea replied, her voice low.
“You’re telling me this scumbag is just seeing what we can do?”
“Yes,” she said dryly. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
Corey grunted, shaking his head as he called out their location to dispatch.
The realization chilled her. Their suspect wasn’t running in fear, he was playing with them. Testing their limits, their tactics, their patience. The more they chased him, the more he would learn, and she doubted he’d be merciful with that information.
So far, she knew a few things. He could transform his car using mana, a feat that was both impressive and terrifying. He had a chain skill, one that was as destructive as it was versatile. And most importantly, he was newly integrated.
“He’s going for the water,” Corey pointed out.
Chelsea’s eyes snapped to the road ahead, where the lights of Drasion Bay shimmered like powdered silver under the twin moons. It was a breathtaking sight, the kind of serene beauty that stood in stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around it.
That beauty was shattered as the suspect’s chains tore through a metal gate at the edge of the bay. His car launched off the cliffside, landing on the water with an impossible grace. Flames roared in its wake as it sped across the surface, leaving a trail of blazing green and sanguine fire.
Chelsea slammed the brakes, bringing their cruiser to a screeching, sideways stop. The tires shrieked against the pavement, and she watched, wide-eyed, as the suspect’s car disappeared into the distance.
“We lost him! Fuck!” Corey shouted, slamming his fist against the dashboard.
Chelsea didn’t respond immediately, her eyes fixed on the trail of fire fading into the night.
“It’s fine,” she said at last, her voice calm.
“How the fuck is this fine?” Corey demanded. “We have a hostile suspect out there! He’s agitated the gangs, he’s agitated the city, and the brass is going to be on our ass about this, Chels!”
“I hate that nickname,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
Corey ignored her. “How the hell can you be okay with this?”
Chelsea turned to him, her expression thoughtful. “Because we’ll see him again. I’m almost certain of it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s here for a reason,” she said. “I think things are about to get very interesting in Virion.”
“Fuck,” Corey muttered, leaning back in his seat.
Ambrose had thought about extending the chase, but there was no point. He had seen nearly everything the cops were capable of, and he wasn’t impressed. Their runes were defensive, sturdy enough to repel his chains, but not strong enough to be a real threat.
His car was faster. His skills were sharper. Their spiritual pressure barely registered to him, a faint ripple where there should have been a tidal wave.
Virion’s protectors had grown stagnant. Too accustomed to their routines, too comfortable in their power. They hadn’t needed to push themselves further, and it showed.
Ambrose opened a portal, returning to the house he’d claimed. His car, though powerful, was becoming too noticeable. He needed to be more discreet.
After parking behind the house, he opened another portal, stepping through to the opposite end of the city.
Finding trouble wasn’t hard in Virion. He spotted three thugs tailing a young woman down a dimly lit street, their intentions obvious. The woman glanced back, her steps quickening as panic set in.
Ambrose opened a portal in front of the thugs and stepped through, his expression calm.
The thugs cursed, startled by his sudden appearance. The woman screamed, fleeing into the night. Ambrose let her go without a second glance.
“Normally, I’d let this play out,” he said, his voice cold. “But we all know your intentions weren’t good. Lucky for you, I have questions.”
Before they could react, he unleashed [Infernal Sanctuary], ghostly chains wreathed in hellfire lashing out to immobilize them. Their cries of protest fell on deaf ears as he dragged them through another portal, depositing them in the garage of his hideout.
The spiritual pressure he released pinned them to the ground, their groans of agony echoing in the confined space.
Ambrose stared down at them, his expression impassive. Spirit was a force few in this city possessed, and the disparity was glaring. These men were outclassed, their cybernetic enhancements meaningless against the sheer weight of his presence.
It was time to get some answers.