The blizzard roared like a beast on Chicago's South Side, sweeping in from the shores of Lake Michigan and slamming Jace Raven in the face with pellets of snow.
He stumbled across an abandoned basketball court right behind Lucien Storm, his boots breaking through the ice and splashing.
The pain of the knife wound in his arm burned like fire, and blood stained his tattered jumper as it seeped through.
He was panting, his heart pounding like a drum, his mind filled with the sight of the knife and Lucien's words, "Your guardian.
He didn't know who to trust, but the roar of the motorcycle behind him told him loud and clear that stopping meant death.
Lucien was ahead, his trench coat flapping in the wind and snow, running fast and steady, his boots almost silent on the snow, gliding like a shadow.
Jace gritted his teeth and struggled to keep up, his legs aching like lead, each step like a struggle against himself.
A hole was torn in the barbed wire fence at the end of the basketball court and Lucien burrowed through, turning to stare coldly at him, "Come on, they haven't gotten far."
Jace gasped and squeezed through the barbed wire, the spikes scraping through his jumper and hooking the cuts on his arms. He sucked in a cold breath of pain, but he didn't have time to yell.
Just as he stood still, an engine roared in the distance, like a hound sniffing out the scent of blood again.
He turned around and saw two red lights piercing through the wind and snow, motorcycles rushing out of the alley, tires crushing the ice, heading straight for them.
"Shit!" Jace cursed and turned to run, but Lucien grabbed him by the arm with a force like an iron vice.
Jace flinched from the pain and tried to break free, but Lucien ordered in a cold voice, "Don't move!"
He yanked Jace into the narrow alley next to him, the wind and snow making it even dimmer, fallen garbage cans strewn about, tin clanking in the wind.
The alley resembled an icy trap, flanked by crumbling brick walls coated in graffiti, and the cold wind poured in through the cracks, stinging his face.
Jace gasped, blood dripping from his arm onto the snow, leaving a trail of red spots.
Lucien let go of him and looked back toward the alleyway, his gaze cold as a knife, "The drones are coming, don't look up."
Jace froze and followed Lucien's line of sight.
In the wind and snow, a black drone flew in from the alleyway entrance, its red camera like an eye, scanning the ground.
His heart missed a beat and his mind raced, "Are they searching for me with this thing?"
Lucien didn't answer, pulling him into the shadows behind the trash can and whispering, "The Shadow Clan's eyes, once they find you, they'll come pouring out."
Jace gritted his teeth and huddled in the shadows, the wind and snow causing him to squint.
The drone's hum was getting closer, the red light sweeping over the trash cans, narrowly missing him. He held his breath, his heartbeat so loud it seemed to explode.
Lucien crouched next to him, his hand pressed to the ground, his gaze fixed on the drone like a hunter on his prey.
Just as the red light swept over, he swung his hand violently, and a dark light cut through the air as if it were a blade condensed from shadow.
The drone was cleaved in half, sparking and crashing into the snow, sending up a cloud of black smoke.
Jace's eyes widened and he gasped, "How the hell did you do that?"
Lucien glanced at him coldly, didn't say a word, and turned to disappear into the depths of the alley.
Jace clenched his teeth and struggled to keep up, his mind reeling.
Gods and demons, Shadow Clans, and Guardians concepts confused him.
He would have asked, but the roar of the motorcycle was getting closer as if death was speeding up in pursuit.
At the end of the alley was an abandoned apartment building with broken windows and peeling siding, like the remains of an empty shell.
Lucien kicked the door open and rushed in, followed by Jace, his boots crushing the glass with an ear-splitting sound.
The apartment smells musty, the floorboards are rotting and creaking, and the walls are covered in graffiti depicting skulls and guns.
Lucien stops quickly, turning to close the door and blocking it with a broken cabinet, moving with the speed of a precise machine.
Jace leans against the wall gasping for breath, his arm in pain, blood dripping onto the floor, staining it red. He glared at Lucien and questioned, "What the hell do you want? Why did you drag me here?"
Lucien turned back, his gaze cold as ice, "Shut your mouth if you want to live." He walked towards the window, lifted the tattered curtains, and glanced out.
The lights of a motorcycle swept by in the wind and snow, the sound of its engine fading away.
Jace gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, "I don't trust you. You saved me, but your words hide secrets."
He gasped, feeling a wave of dizziness as more blood drained from his arm.
Lucien turned, his gaze sweeping over his wounds, and responded coldly, "If you didn't trust me, you'd be dead already."
He walks over to him and roughly rips off a corner of his trench coat, wrapping it tightly around Jace's arm and fastening it.
Jace gritted his teeth in pain but didn't scream. He glares at Lucien and presses on, "What do you mean when you say I'm descended from a water god?"
Lucien stopped his hands and his eyes became even colder, "The seeds of the war between gods and demons were planted billions of years ago. You are the key to it, and they want you dead."
Jace's thoughts were like bees, billions of years? It sounded ridiculous as hell, but those blue pupils and the ability to foretell the future prevented him from dismissing it so easily.
He gasped and asked, "What about you? Why are you helping me?"
Lucien didn't answer, he just stared at him, his gaze so sharp it seemed to cut through skin, and after a moment of silence, he whispered, "Because I can't let you die."
Jace froze, his heart seeming to miss a beat. What kind of answer was that?
He wanted to press on, but Lucien had already turned and walked deeper into the apartment, his trench coat swaying in the wind like a dark shadow dissolving into the darkness.
Jace gritted his teeth and followed Lucien, knowing that if he stopped, it would be all over, even though his legs were so sore that they were about to give out.
Deep within the apartment was a dilapidated room, the floor already half caved in and the walls riddled with cracks.
Lucien stopped and crouched on the floor, removing a dagger from his trench coat, the blade black as ink and glinting coldly in the dim light.
He slashed his palm, blood dripping onto the floor, and a dark light suddenly swept through the air like a web woven from shadows, enveloping the room.
Jace's eyes widened and he took a step back, "What are you doing?"
Lucien looked up, his tone cold, "Barrier, they can't find this place."
He stood up and wiped the blood off his hands, his gaze sweeping over Jace, "Rest, they won't stop their pursuit."
Panting, Jace leaned against the wall and sat down, the sharp pain in his arm burning like a fire, he stared at Lucien, his mind in turmoil.
Barriers? Mystical powers? Who the hell was this guy?
He tried to ask questions, but his head was spinning and the loss of blood made his eyelids so heavy he could barely open them.
He gritted his teeth, "I don't trust you, but I have no choice."
Lucien sneered, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, "A wise move."
He walked over to the window, his back to Jace, the wind and snow making the frame creak.
Jace gasped and leaned against the wall, his mind filled with questions.
Lucien had saved him, but what was hidden behind those cold eyes?
He didn't know, but the roar of the motorcycle faded away, removing the threat for the moment.
Jace looked down at his arm; the bleeding had stopped, but the wound still ached.
He clenched his fists, his mind flashing back to L-car's foresight and Brad's crash.
Perhaps Lucien was right; he wasn't just anyone. But what exactly was he?
He looked up at Lucien, the figure standing like an enigma amidst the wind and snow.