Chapter 277 Past Lover?
Vanessa kept her foot on the gas until the van’s engine began to protest. Tree-lined asphalt whipped beneath the headlights, and the night air rushed past the side mirrors. She’d driven thirty straight minutes south of the city, not slowing once. Sighting a rusted highway sign half hidden by vines—she eased up and rolled to a stop on the shoulder.
Gravel crunched beneath the tires. The engine ticked in the sudden quiet.
She cut the lights, killed the ignition, and stepped out. Cool air hit her face, and for a moment she just breathed. She could still taste the adrenaline in the back of her throat.
"How the hell did SWAT find me?" she muttered, shutting the door softly. "How did they know it was me under that mask?" She paced around the front bumper, glancing up and down the empty road. Pine trees hemmed in both sides like walls. No headlights, no sirens—just the low hum of insects and the distant rustle of night wind.
She clenched her fists. There hadn’t been any trackers on her motorcycle. She’d taken country roads, killed every camera feed within range. Yet they’d still found her.
As she stood there piecing it together, a sudden gust swept over her. Leaves stirred, dust lifted. The breeze pressed down, as if something huge had displaced the air above her.
She looked up.
Two vast black wings sliced through the night sky, blotting out the sliver of moon. A silhouette—tall, lean, broad-shouldered—glided overhead, feathers so dark they swallowed light. It circled once, then folded its wings and dove.
Boots hit asphalt ten feet in front of her. The figure straightened—six feet of muscle draped in matte tactical fabric. The wings settled behind him like a curtain of shadow. Red embers glowed where eyes should be.
Vanessa’s heart flipped. "Clark?" The name came out halfway between hope and disbelief.
No answer. He stood silent, face half hidden beneath a dark hood, staring at her with an intensity that scraped her nerves raw.
"Clark, did you sell me out?" she snapped, forcing steel into her voice. "Since when can you fucking fly?"