“Anxiety attack,” Magnus assured the person. “They happen. She’ll be okay.”
“I get them,” the lady said. “Horrible things. If you need help, I’ll be right over here.”
“Thank you.”
Get it together, dammit. This isn’t time to fall apart. You’re a fucking dragon. You had a near miss, that’s all. No harm, no foul, just breathe, just breathe.
At long last, I could. My airway opened up, the spots vanished, my whirling head calmed. Magnus’s strong hand on my back remained, even after I sucked in a deep breath and straightened. I couldn’t meet his eyes, however.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “That was bad.”
“I could tell.”
“It was – it – I’ve never had one before.”
Magnus took me into his brawny arms, holding me tightly against his chest. “I confess I froze,” he said, his voice low. “I saw those guys – I froze. Like a damn deer in the headlights. I didn’t know what to do. You did.”
“You – you don’t think I’m a pussy?”
He snorted. “We’re ordinary people caught up in a very unordinary problem. We have people out to kill us. Had those dudes recognized us instantly, we’d be dead now. That we’re in a diner full of innocents wouldn’t matter. You’re the furthest thing from a pussy.”
He kissed my temple. “Though I’d sure like to check your pussy out.”
“You whore,” I snapped, half-laughing. “We’d better get out of here before one of them gets the urge to piss.”
Magnus peered around the corner. “Okay, they’re at a booth where their line of sight isn’t great. Casual, arms around each other, we simply walk out of here. Don’t do anything to get their attention.”
I slipped my arm around his waist. “Let’s go. Before I hurl all my bacon.”
“We wouldn’t want that. All that lovely bacon gone to waste.”
Keeping my head down, trying to walk casually, we strolled, smiling fake smiles, across the diner to the entrance. From the corner of my eye, I saw the dragons in their booth, looking at menus, drinking coffee. None even glanced in our direction.
Still, I didn’t breathe properly until we reached the Jeep, and Magnus drove us from the parking lot. “Holy shit. We’re getting wigs right now. And maybe something else to hide our faces. Christ, that was bad.”
“Fake glasses,” Magnus mused, his hand gripping mine. “Make us look scholarly. You don’t wear lipstick, put some on. Garish red.”
“Ugh.” I sank down in the seat. “I hate garish red lipstick.”
“So do most guys,” Magnus said with a grin. “They’ll look past you to avoid the red.”
“Why don’tyouwear the lipstick?” I demanded.
“Want me to?” Magnus asked. “I would. But that’d draw their attention when we don’t want attention.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
***
Magnus stared at himself in the mirror, caressing his longish white locks that curled around his neck. “You know who I look like?”
“Who?”
“Jimmy Savile.”
I studied my own reflection as I applied not just red lipstick to my lips but also fake eyelashes to my eyes. “Who’s Jimmy Savile?”
