The Last Promise

Isabella's POV

The fire alarm shrieked through the children's hospital, and Isabella Romano dropped the tale she was reading.

"What's happening?" seven-year-old Tommy whispered, his small hand grabbing Isabella's arm. His bald head from cancer treatments shone under the bright hospital lights, and his brown eyes were wide with fear.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Isabella said, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart was pounding. "It's probably just a drill."

But she knew it wasn't. The warning was wrong – too sharp, too urgent. And there was something else. A smell in the air that made her stomach turn. Something like burning metal and chemicals.

"Miss Isabella, I'm scared," whispered Emma, a five-year-old girl with leukemia who always asked for extra hugs.

Isabella looked around the pediatric area. Twelve sick children sat in their beds or wheelchairs, all looking at her with trusted eyes. The regular nurses had rushed out when the alarm started, shouting something about an emergency in the parking basement.

They'd left her alone with the kids.

"Listen to me," Isabella said, standing up and going to the center of the room. "We're going to play a game, okay? It's called 'Follow the boss,' and I'm the boss."

"What kind of game?" asked Marcus, a nine-year-old with a broken leg.

Isabella's mind raced. Her father had taught her about situations, about how to stay calm when everything went wrong. Vincent Romano might be a scary man, but he'd also taught his daughter how to protect people.

"The kind where we all stick together and keep each other safe," she said strongly.

The smell was getting stronger. Through the windows facing the parking area, she could see strange flashing lights – not red and blue like police cars, but white and silver like lightning.

Isabella's phone buzzed. A text from her bodyguard: "Emergency. Stay put. Don't move."

But staying put felt wrong. Every feeling she had – the same ones that helped her avoid her father's enemies for nineteen years – screamed that they needed to get out of this room.

"Okay, everyone," she said, clapping her hands together. "Game time. We're going on an adventure to the roof garden."

"The roof garden?" Tommy's eyes light up despite his fear. "We never get to go there at night!"

"Well, tonight's special," Isabella said, helping Emma out of her bed. "But here's the deal – we have to be super quiet. Like ninjas."

The children giggled, and Isabella felt a small smile cross her face. Even in danger, they could find fun. It reminded her why she loved coming here every week, why she'd rather read bedtime stories than attend her father's business meetings.

They made it to the lift just as the lights flickered. Isabella pushed the button for the roof, but nothing happened.

"Uh oh," Tommy said. "It's broken."

Isabella tried her key card – the one that gave her entry to the whole hospital because her family donated so much money. Still nothing.

The chemical smell was stronger now, and she could hear strange sounds coming from downstairs. Not human sounds. Something that reminded her of machines, but machines that were angry.

"Change of plans," she said happily, though her hands were shaking. "We're taking the stairs. It'll be like climbing a mountain!"

"I can't climb stairs very well," Emma said softly, referring to the IV line still attached to her arm.

Isabella knelt down and looked the little girl in the eyes. "Then I'll carry you. We're a team, remember? Teams don't leave anyone behind."

As they climbed the stairs, Isabella tried to push down the growing fear in her chest. Something was very wrong tonight. The building felt different, like there was danger hidden in every shadow.

"Miss Isabella," Marcus said from behind her, "why do you smell scared?"

Isabella paused. "What do you mean?"

"My mom says people smell different when they're scared. You smell like... like when I have dreams."

Out of the words of babes. Isabella took a deep breath. "You know what, Marcus? I am a little scared. But being scared doesn't mean we give up. It means we're smart enough to know when something's dangerous."

"Are we in danger?" Tommy asked.

Isabella looked down at his trusting face. This kid had been fighting cancer for two years. He was braver than most adults she knew.

"Maybe," she said honestly. "But I promise I won't let anything happen to you. Any of you."

They reached the roof garden, and Isabella felt some of her stress ease. The night air was cool and clean, nothing like the chemical smell inside the building. The city spread out below them, Chicago's lights twinkling like stars.

"Wow," breathed Emma. "It's so pretty up here."

Isabella helped the children settle on the garden chairs. She pulled out her phone to call her father, but there was no connection.

That's when she heard the footsteps on the stairs.

Heavy. Mechanical. Coming up fast.

"Everyone behind the big planter," Isabella whispered quickly. "Right now. Ninja mode."

The children, feeling her fear, moved quickly and quietly. Isabella crouched in front of them, her hand moving to the small gun her father made her carry everywhere.

The footsteps reached the roof.

Three figures emerged from the stairs. At first glance, they looked like men in suits. But as they moved into the moonlight, Isabella saw their eyes. Completely black. No white, no color, just empty darkness that seemed to swallow light.

"Subject located," one of them said in a voice that sounded like grinding gears. "Retrieving target." Target? They were talking about her.

"Miss Isabella," Tommy whispered so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "Those aren't people."

He was right. Whatever these things were, they weren't human. They moved wrong, smelled wrong, sounded wrong.

One of them pulled out a device that beeped constantly. It was pointed straight at their hidden spot.

"Thermal signatures detected," it said. "Multiple subjects present."

Isabella's blood turned to ice. They could see the children's body heat. There was nowhere to hide.

"Children identified," another thing said. "Witnesses must be eliminated."

Eliminated. They were going to hurt the kids.

Isabella stood up, stepping out from behind the bush. "You want me? Here I am. Leave them alone."

The creatures turned toward her with jerky, unnatural moves. "Isabella Romano. You will come with us."

"I'll come," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "But first, let the children go back inside. They haven't seen anything."

"Negative. Witnesses must be removed."

One of them raised something that looked like a weapon.

Isabella's training kicked in. She dove to the right, rolling behind a bench as energy blasts – real energy blasts – scorched the air where she'd been standing.

"Run!" she yelled to the children. "Get to the stairs!"

But the creatures were blocking the only route.

Isabella pulled out her gun and fired three shots. The bullets hit the first thing center mass, but it didn't even stagger. Instead, it looked down at the holes in its chest with mild attention.

"Projectile weapons ineffective," it reported.

Tommy suddenly stood up from behind the bush. "Hey, robot guys! Over here!"

"Tommy, no!" Isabella screamed.

The little boy threw a handful of gravel at the nearest object. "You're big meanies, and Miss Isabella doesn't like meanies!"

The thing turned toward him, raising its weapon.

Isabella flung herself forward, tackling the thing around the waist. They went down hard, rolling across the roof yard. Up close, she could see that its skin wasn't skin at all – it was some kind of synthetic material stretched over a metal frame.

"Tommy, get everyone to the stairs!" she yelled, fighting with the creature.

But more footsteps were coming up from below. Human footsteps this time, but Isabella didn't know if that was better or worse.

The creature she was fighting threw her off like she weighed nothing. She hit the ground hard, her head spinning.

"Acquisition complete," it said, pulling out a dart gun. "Preparing for transport."

Isabella tried to get up, but her body wouldn't obey. The fall had knocked the wind out of her.

"Miss Isabella!" Emma cried.

"Don't look," Isabella gasped. "Close your eyes. All of you."

The creature pointed the dart gun at her chest.

A growl echoed across the rooftop – not human, not machine, but something wild and fierce. A figure leaped from the stairs, moving faster than anything Isabella had ever seen.

It was a young man with dark hair and fierce eyes. He slammed into the thing holding the dart gun, sending them both crashing into the garden wall.

"Get away from her!" he snarled, and for a moment, Isabella could have sworn his eyes glowed orange in the moonlight.

Two more figures appeared – older, moving with the same inhuman speed and strength. A fight erupted on the rooftop, supernatural against artificial.

Isabella crawled toward the children, who were huddled together in fear.

"It's okay," she whispered, though nothing about this was okay. "It's going to be okay."

The dark-haired young man was fighting like nothing she'd ever seen. He moved like a predator, all fluid ease and deadly purpose. When he looked at her for just a moment, she felt something strange – like recognition, though she was sure they'd never met.

"Isabella!" he called out. "Are you hurt?"

How did he know her name?

One of the creatures broke free from the fight and lunged toward the children. Isabella threw herself in front of them, spreading her arms wide.

"You'll have to go through me," she said.

The thing raised its weapon.

The dark-haired man emerged beside her like magic, his hand closing around the creature's throat. "I don't think so," he growled.

Then the world burst in light and sound, and Isabella felt herself falling into darkness.

The last thing she heard was Tommy's voice, scared and small: "Miss Isabella? You promised you'd come back tomorrow. You promised!"

And as consciousness slipped away, Isabella understood it was a promise she might not be able to keep.