As the first man reached for me, the streetlight above us exploded in a shower of glass and sparks.
Then the next one down the line exploded. And the next.
The alley was plunged into a chaos of darkness and screaming electricity. Luna wasn't just flickering lights now. She was unleashing a storm. Car alarms blared. Windows in the nearby houses rattled violently.
In the strobing, chaotic darkness, her form became visible to everyone. A figure of swirling, silver-blue light, her face a mask of primal fury. She flew at Vega, not to touch him, but to terrify him. The air grew freezing cold.
The hired men, tough as they were, stumbled back, crossing themselves, their professionalism shattered by sheer supernatural terror. Vega alone stood his ground, but even his cold confidence was cracked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
In the chaos, Ms. Liza acted. She kneed her captor in the groin, grabbed my arm, and yelled, "RUN!"
We didn't need telling twice. We ran, leaving behind a scene of pandemonium, the wrath of a ghost our only shield.