Megan kept her head down, using the hood of her coat to keep the rain off her face. She wasn’t sure why she bothered. The storm had already soaked her to the bone. Maybe she did it because the streets in her neighbourhood were pitch-black due to the power outage and she had already passed several unsavoury characters on her route from the bus stop to her apartment. The only light came from passing cars and the lightning forking across the heavy clouds.

She had never seen such a violent storm before and it unsettled her, bringing thoughts of Armageddon and the end of the world. A man passed her on the opposite side of the street, running hard through the heavy rain. He crossed the road further up, moving to her side.

She wrapped her arms around herself as he paused on the pavement and looked in her direction. When her manager had told her she could knock off early from her nightshift at the packing warehouse because of the power problems, she had thought it would be a good thing. Now she wasn’t so sure. She hadn’t considered how dangerous it might be to cross several blocks of New York in total darkness.

The man hadn’t moved.

She turned left down the next street.

It was a shortcut she often used on her way home. Normally, she only did it during the day when there were plenty of people around. It cut several minutes off her journey but it was also an alley. She quickened her pace until she was verging on jogging.

A creeping sense that someone was watching her washed over her and she glanced back into the darkness behind her.

Lightning split the sky and illuminated the main street.

Her heart jumped into her throat as shadows danced around. No sign of the man. She was just being paranoid again. He had probably stopped to figure out where he was going. It was easy to become disorientated in the darkness.

Her footsteps echoed along the alley, loud despite the thunder rolling overhead and the sound of rain battering the tarmac.

She turned to face forwards again.

Lightning flashed.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

An immense figure strolled towards her from the other end of the alley, long coat flaring out from his waist in the wind that gusted from behind her, pushing her towards him. His hand reached down to his side, she caught a flash of metal in the next lightning strike, and then he was running at her.

Chills erupted down her spine and over her arms.

“Move.” The word was a dark growl and her heart stopped dead.

Before she could convince her feet to do as he had ordered, he reached her. A bright burst of light illuminated his face, revealing chiselled features set into a black scowl and eyes that burned her with their intensity as they briefly locked with hers, and then he was running up the wall beside her and flipping over her head like some damned action hero.

He landed hard behind her and her heart exploded into action.

Megan whirled on the spot and brought her hands up in front of her, expecting him to attack her. Her dark eyes widened. The man from the street was there at the other end of the alley.

The larger man ran at him and she caught flickers of both men in the lightning strikes and another flash of metal. The slimmer male had a gun too. Her breath hitched and she tried to run but found that she couldn’t. Her legs refused to respond, no matter how desperately she tried to get them to work. The one who had spoken to her reached the smaller man and they both moved incredibly quickly, beyond humanly possible.

Was it the lightning causing them to look as though they were moving faster than her eyes could track?

It had to be.

They clashed and before either of them could fire their gun, they had both knocked the other one’s away. The big man drew two large blades from inside his long black coat, his broad back to her, and clashed again with the slimmer man. She only caught snippets of their fight as the storm raged above them.

Was it a gang fight, or perhaps a mugging?

Megan wasn’t sure what was happening but she knew what she should be doing. She had to run, or maybe call the police. She pulled her bag towards her and fumbled with it. She couldn’t see a damn thing in the darkness. Where was her phone?

Lightning flashed again and the slimmer man was only a few feet from her, his wet blond hair plastered to his forehead and dark gaze locked on her. The large man tackled him from behind and they rolled past her as she shrieked and leaped away from them, hitting the wall of the alley. Her legs trembled and her bag fell from her shoulder.

“It will take more than steel to win this fight,” the blond man snarled and she frowned at his accent. French?

A bright flash exploded overhead, the thunder rolling in time with it, and she flattened against the wall. Both men had found their feet and were fighting close to her, heading back towards the end of the alley in a flurry of kicks and punches.

She caught brief flickers of the blond man’s thin face as he fought the bigger brunet. Rain rolled down his cheeks and dripped from his small goatee. He didn’t look scared as he fought a man twice his size.

That man circled with him, his expression a picture of darkness and intent. Strands of his overlong dark hair had fallen down and were stuck to his sculpted cheeks. Not a trace of fear lined his features either.

If anything, both of them looked angry.

The Frenchman attacked with a burst of punches, landing a few despite how quickly the other man moved to evade them and then he was on the defensive as the big man swiped with his twin knives. He grunted as one of the blades sliced across his arm and the sickening tinny scent of blood instantly joined the smell of earth and ozone in the air.

He flipped backwards towards the mouth of the alley and came to a halt. He straightened, facing the larger man, and squared his shoulders. The lights in the alley blinked back into life and Megan looked at the street beyond him. They were back on there too. The dim alley lights shone down on the two men as they faced each other, both casual despite the fact they were in the middle of a fight, as if this was an everyday occurrence for them.

The Frenchman tipped his chin up and his eyes narrowed. “I have been waiting for this moment for a very long time.”

“Your death?” the larger man growled, his voice deep and edged with darkness. “You should have dropped in earlier. I’m always happy to send scum like you into the afterlife.”

The Frenchman’s thin lips twisted in a cruel smile. “It is you who will die here tonight.”

“We’ll see.” The larger man launched himself forwards, boots pounding the tarmac.

The blond man raised his hand and suddenly the big one was flying through the air towards her.

She dived out of his path and hit the wet ground hard. Pain blazed through her right shoulder and she curled up on her side, covering her head with her arms. The brunet hit the wall and shards of brick rained down on her. When everything went quiet, she gathered the courage to crack her eyes open.

The large man lay face down on the ground near her. Above him, there was a huge dent in the brick wall of the building. What the heck had just happened? Was he dead? Her hands shook with the thought of witnessing a murder. It wasn’t possible that a man could survive something like that, at least not without broken bones and a severe concussion, but then everything that had happened in the last few seconds seemed impossible.

Her gaze darted between him and the blond man. She had faced some dire odds in her life and survived, but something told her that she wasn’t going to survive this. She should have run when she’d had the chance. She didn’t want to die here tonight.

The large man snarled something dark and her eyes widened as he moved. His hands shifted closer to his elbows and he pushed himself up onto his knees. He shook his head, causing the long strands of his wet hair to caress his face, and then got to his feet.

How the heck could he move after that?

He shouldn’t even be conscious.

His dark eyes shifted to her and she swore red embers lit their penetrating depths. He stared at her for a few seconds, as though they were the only two in the world and there wasn’t another man in the street with them.

A man who wanted to kill him.

“You okay?” he husked and she swallowed and nodded. He nodded too and then did something that surprised her. He smiled, his sensual mouth curving into it and setting her heart racing. How the heck could he smile when he had just been tossed into a wall with such force he shouldn’t be standing right now and was bleeding? “Stay down. I won’t let him near you. It’ll be over soon and you’ll be safe. Understand?”

He growled like a feral beast before she could respond and launched his right hand forwards, as though throwing something at the other man. A bright fierce orb of fire burst from his hand and shot down the alley, blinding in the darkness. He turned and chased it. It exploded against a wall and another flash of fire followed it.

Megan couldn’t believe her eyes.

The large man dodged and air whooshed past her, ruffling her wet shoulder-length hair. Trashcans further along the alley exploded as though something had struck them. Was that what had hit the large man and thrown him into the wall?

She crept to that brick wall and crouched there, keeping as small as possible. Her heart pounded and eyes darted, trying to take in the fight as fear turned to fascination.

The brunet unleashed another swirling orb of fire from his palms and the Frenchman evaded it, rolling forwards in the alley. The man levelled another fiery blast at him, catching him this time and sending him spinning through the air. He landed hard on the tarmac and rolled.

Awestruck didn’t cover how she felt as she watched them now. Both of them had powers. It was incredible.

The big man pounded towards the other one and he disappeared, reappearing right in front of him. They clashed again and the sound of material tearing cut through the thunder rumbling across the city. The brunet leaped backwards, towards her, distancing himself.

“You’ll pay for that,” he growled and she looked at the Frenchman. He stood in the middle of the alley, black cloth dangling from one of his hands. Had he torn the man’s clothes?

The slim blond smiled, tossed the piece of material aside and crooked a finger. “Come and make me.”

The brunet charged and they clashed again, each throwing punches. Megan flinched with every heavy blow and vicious kick, fear slowly trickling back in to wash away her fascination. She had seen some brawls in her time, but nothing like this.

This wasn’t a brawl.

It was a battle.

The lights on the walls flickered, flashes of lightning causing them to stutter. She couldn’t tell who was winning. She hoped it was the brunet because she had the impression that he wasn’t out to hurt her. Not like the other man. There had been moments when he had looked her way, and each time there had been a look on his face that said she was next.

The Frenchman ducked to evade a punch and threw his palm at the larger man. Was he trying to push him over? Megan couldn’t see why he would want to do that and it was the only explanation she could find for him pressing his palm against the man’s chest.

The immense brunet flung his head back and threw his arms out at his sides as he roared in agony at the storm. The lights on the wall of the alley died as his garbled scream filled the night, battling the growling thunder. He fell to his knees and arched backwards, the Frenchman’s hand still pressed against his chest. Orange light shone from the point where they connected, illuminating the blond man’s face as he grinned.

“It was too easy.” He drew his hand back and stared at his fingers.

Something glowed in the centre of his palm, strange light illuminating threads that ran around the back of his hand. He turned his cruel gaze on the large man.

The man collapsed forwards, palms pressing into the wet ground, and the lights on the wall blinked back into life again. His big body heaved as he breathed hard and she frowned as she realised something.

He was shaking.

Flames flickered over the Frenchman’s hand and a fireball grew from the centre of his palm. He aimed it down at the other man.

In an instant, Megan knew what he was going to do and she couldn’t allow it to happen. She couldn’t let this man kill the brunet. She wouldn’t stand for it. Her gaze quickly scanned the dimly lit street and darted back again. One of their guns lay on the wet tarmac only a few feet from her. She reacted on instinct, pushing off the ground and running for it.

She scooped it up.

Raised it.

Fired.

A loud crack like thunder split the silence and she jerked back from the force of the recoil.

The bullet nailed the Frenchman in his right shoulder, knocking him backwards, away from the other man.

An unholy shriek pierced her ears, more like the sound a bird of prey would make rather than a man, and the Frenchman turned his gaze on her. Megan hesitated, fear washing through her stronger than ever and her heart smashing like a jackhammer against her ribs. Eyes that glowed ethereally locked on to her.

What was he?

He raised his hand, the light from the fireball casting dark shadows across his face. She didn’t hesitate. She lifted the heavy silver gun and took aim again.

The fireball exploded from his palm.