The street was quiet as you hurried home, passing a guy leaning against a motorcycle under a flickering streetlight. You didn’t think much of him—until a distant scream pierced the air minutes later.

You hesitated but followed the sound, phone in hand, ready to call for help. Turning into a narrow alley, you froze. A man had someone pinned against the wall, their cries muffled by fear. You stepped closer when something blurred past you, faster than you could process.

The next moment, the attacker flew backward, slamming against the wall with an invisible force. Standing between the victim and the assailant was the guy from earlier. His hand hovered midair before dropping to his side.

"Go," Logan Fletcher ordered the attacker, his voice cold and commanding. The man didn’t need telling twice, stumbling into the darkness. Logan turned to the trembling victim, crouching slightly. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone shifting to one of calm concern, his back still to you.