Page 96 of Celestial Combat

And I was not stopping for anyone.

The Ferrari flickered in my peripheral vision, Tony carving his way through the lanes with effortless aggression. But my eyes flicked to the rearview mirror – and my smirk faded.

A black SUV. Big. Heavy. Unmistakable.

Zane.

He wasn’t racing us.

He was hunting me.

A chill slithered down my spine, colder than the night air whipping through the cracked window.

I slammed the gas.

I hit the first long straightaway on South Conduit Ave. The starting line was long gone, the others behind me just distant headlights in the rearview.

Except for Zane, who must’ve not been able to keep up.

I shifted up, the needle surging past one-fifty miles per hour. The road opened up, leading straight into the heart of Queens, my route burned into memory. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t look back.

The glow of JFK Airport loomed ahead, lights glinting off my hood as I rocketed under the flight path on North Hangar Road. Above me, a plane descended, its underbelly a shadow against the night sky, its engines roaring in harmony with mine. The turbulence rattled the car ever so slightly, a warning – a reminder that I was playing a dangerous game.

I glanced at the rearview again.

Empty.

A slow smirk crept back onto my lips as I settled into the speed. Zane was gone.

I gripped the wheel harder, fingers tingling with adrenaline. The track shifted, the next turn coming fast – Rockaway Boulevard. It was tight. Unforgiving. After this, I just had to Sprint back ontoBelt Parkway– the real test of handling over a hundred miles an hour.

And I would win the race.

Like I always did.

My car hugged the inside line, tires screaming against the pavement. My pulse was steady, movements precise. Iwas locked in, already calculating my acceleration onto Belt Parkway, already seeing the empty stretch of road waiting for me to rip through it at a hundred and twenty.

A shadow in my peripheral.

I barely had time to register it before the SUV cut across my path.

I reacted on instinct, yanking the wheel, slamming the brakes. The tires screeched in protest, the smell of burning rubber filling the cabin as I pulled over. My heart slammed against my ribs. My pulse, steady seconds ago, now pounded.

The SUV slid to a stop in front of me, perfectly calculated, blocking my path like a predator closing in on its prey.

The other racers didn’t even slow down.

Tony’s Ferrari shot past, a red blur disappearing into the night, followed by the others. The streetlights flickered over them one by one, the race still raging without me.

And just like that, it was over.

I gritted my teeth, exhaling hard through my nose as my hands flexed over the wheel.

The race was lost.

Zane climbed out of the SUV. He stalked toward me, tattoos snaking out from under the sleeves and disappearing into the shadows of the night. The glow from the streetlights caught the metal of his nose ring, the sharp line of his jaw. He looked like he had stepped straight out of hell – dangerous, unshaken, inevitable.

I kept my hands on the wheel, jaw locked tight.

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