"Absolutely not," I growl. "I'm not letting you and Raven run off together. You'll end up burning the whole place to the ground."
The smoke is getting thicker now, curling up toward the painted ceiling. The tour guide hasn't noticed yet, still prattling on about some dead king's favorite concubine, but it's only a matter of time.
"Fire!" someone shouts from the back of the group.
And then all hell breaks loose.
The tour guide's eyes go wide as she spots the smoking basket. "Please don't panic!" she calls out, which of course makes everyone panic immediately.
Tourists start pushing and shoving, trying to get to the exits. Someone knocks over a porcelain vase that shatters on the marble floor and spills what I hope isn't royal ashes. The tour guide is frantically trying to maintain order while backing away from the growing smoke.
It's exactly the kind of chaos Raven was hoping for.
"Fuck!" I snarl, grabbing Cosima by the arm. Knight immediately snarls at me, the sound low and possessive, but I know he'll follow wherever she goes. That's one thing I can count on with the big bastard. "You two split off! Don't tear the damn place apart!" I yell at Raven and Nikolai.
Nikolai looks like he'd rather eat glass than partner up with Raven, but the golden-haired idiot is already grabbing him,pushing him through the panicking crowd in the opposite direction.
"Don't let anything happen to her!" Raven calls to me over his shoulder in a vaguely threatening sing-song. Like they're the ones I need to worry about.
I'm actually more concerned about Cosima starting trouble than Raven. At least he has some sense of self-preservation. Cosima? She'd probably walk up to the Queen herself and demand answers about Azarel if given the chance.
"This way," I mutter, pulling her down a side corridor as armed guards rush past us toward the source of the commotion. The palace is rapidly emptying as people flee the smoke, which gives us more freedom to explore. We duck behind an enormous curtain as more guards thunder past, their boots echoing on the marble.
"This would be a better disguise for Knight," Cosima says, eyeing a row of suits of ceremonial armor displayed in an alcove.
Before I can object, she's already putting the helmet over Knight's head and draping the decorative dark cloak over his shoulders. With the armor covering his modern tactical gear, he actually looks the part. Like some ancient guardian who's always belonged here.
"Where would the royal family's private quarters be?" I mutter, glancing around. Place is like a damn maze.
Cosima moves to a window, peering out at the gardens below. "There," she says, pointing across a courtyard to another wing of the palace. "Azarel told me once about the trees he could see from his bedroom window. Those exact trees, overlooking the gardens. The family quarters must be on the other side."
"How quaint," I mutter, already calculating the best route.
We climb through the window—or at least, Cosima and I climb while Knight tears part of the frame off like it's paper to get through after us. But we make it out without causing immense structural damage, at least. The gardens are pristine, every hedge trimmed so not a single leaf is out of place, every flower bed arranged in perfect symmetry. It's the kind of obsessive attention to detail that makes my teeth itch. Give me the chaotic beauty of the wasteland any day over this manufactured perfection.
We circle around to the side of the palace, staying low and using the decorative shrubbery as cover. Even the royal family's quarters are being evacuated, guards ushering what must be servants and staff out through side entrances.
"What the hell is going on?"
Plague. That icy tone is unmistakable.
We press ourselves deeper into the shadows as he strides into view, every inch the military commander despite his princely robes. Two guards trail behind him, practically running to keep up.
"Your Highness," one pants, "there was a fire near the visitor's entrance."
"A fire," Plague repeats, his voice flat. "In my mother's palace. During public tours."
The guards exchange nervous glances. "Yes, Your Highness. It's contained and we're following protocol?—"
"Shut down the tours for the rest of the day," Plague cuts them off. "I want every available guard searching for the cause ofthis 'fire' and whoever started it. My omega and my other mate are coming to the palace tomorrow morning. I won't take any chances with their safety."
"Of course, Your Highness," the guards chorus.
They follow him around a corner, and I catch the tail end of their muttered conversation once he's out of earshot.
"Even more uptight and scary than before..."
"Having his omega nearby..."
