I tap a button on the stolen com bracelet, and Enslee’s face disappears as the call ends.
“Goodbye, Ens,” I whisper again, and then I pluck the com from my wrist, crack it in half, and drop the tech in the toilet before flushing it away.
I step out of the stall into the quiet bathroom and catch my reflection in the mirror. I look almost as bad as my twin. My pale skin is blotchy from crying. Exhaustion sits heavy in my features, and my jade green eyes are so bright with emotion they look like they’re glowing. I fluff my flame-colored hair and fill my lungs with a fortifying breath before moving for the door.
The Horde is going to kill me. I have no doubt, regardless of the false hope Enslee tried to rally, but she is right about one thing—I sure as shit can give them a run for their money.
Chapter 5
I EXIT THE HALLWAY THAT leads to the bathrooms and step out into the main part of the bar. Instantly, I know something is wrong. The quiet murmur moving through the previously rowdy space has the hair on the back of my neck rising. Carefully scanning the crowd, I notice that they’re all staring at something outside, and I have a sinking suspicion I know exactly what it is.
Maneuvering myself until I’m able to peek between two tense patrons, I see what’s set everyone on edge. A matte black lirocar is floating just outside the building. If there were any doubt as to who’s inside, the flags with two intertwined dragons surrounding a singular flame are a dead giveaway.
I’d love to see the look on the faces of the doubting women from the bathroom. I bet the friend claiming she saw dragons earlier is feeling smug as shit right about now.
Alarm seizes every muscle I possess as I study the hovering vehicle. Ren was right, lirocars really do look like fancy airboats with a stabby front end. I try not to panic, reminding myself that freaking out will get me nowhere.
Hurriedly, I scour the interior of the bar for another exit. I know there is one at the end of the hall by the bathrooms, but I’d bet the other stabby airboat the haters in the bathroom were talking about is parked back there. I know if I were trying to corner prey, the back exits would be the first thing I’d cover.
The lirocar hums with magic as it sets down on the pavement out front, and four doors immediately slide open.
Instantly I freeze, and despite my best efforts, panic starts to win.
My pulse thunders in my ears.
Wasps riot in my stomach.
My even breaths become faster and faster.
I try to get a hold of myself, to not let fear override me. A lesson everyone in the bar could heed judging by the reek of terror that’s now overpowering this place. It’s clear I’m not the only one who thinks dragons equal death.
That’s when it dawns on me. Maybe I shouldn’t be fighting back the dread…maybe I should be encouraging it. And not just mine, but everyone else’s. Because if there’s one thing you can count on when it comes to the Arcane, it’s self-preservation.
A large boot-clad foot steps out of the lirocar outside, followed by a toned calf and thick thigh covered in black scale armor. I don’t wait to see which giant of a drake the leg is attached to. Instead, I open my mouth and let loose a terrified bloodcurdling scream.
“They’ll burn us alive! Everybody run!”
The bar explodes into action, and I’m a little shocked that my impromptu Hail Mary is actually working. Screams and the sounds of splintering wood and shattering glass fill the air, and like a herd of frightened lemmings, the crowd writhes and surges as people scamper for a way out. I’m enfolded into the distressed crowd as another group of Arcs shove down the back hallway behind me in search of an escape. The front door of the bar crashes open, and a flurry of fearful patrons pour out onto the street.
Barked commands tostoppepper the panic, but there’s no stopping the flood of terrified people and their all-consuming desperate search for safety. Cool evening air washes over me as I ride the tide of alarm out of the bar. Outside, everyone branches out into different directions, and I run with them, rapidly trying to figure out where to go.
Unfortunately, the scared citizens of Lairwood have one up on me, because they have homes and other places they can flee to, whereas I have shoes that are too big, scrubs that are too small, and zero options.
My gaze catches on the bright whiteLairwood Memorialemblazoned on the chest pocket of my top. I might as well be holding a flashing sign that saysHere I Am!while doing a little jig for attention under a spotlight.
Shit.
I need to ditch these scrubs.
Veering to the right, I stay on a main road, running down the street while I look for a shop or someone drying some clothes out on a balcony I can steal. At first, other pedestrians are confused by the swarm of runners coming at them, but all it takes is a few horrified shouts of “Dragons!” and the panic catches like a brush fire.
Clothed mannequins in a window catch my eye like an SOS flare going up in the middle of a moonless night, and I race across the street toward the store. The buzz of an engine and accompanying hum of magic immediately remind me of why it’s stupid to dart out in the middle of a flyway. Instinct screams a warning and I leap back just in time to narrowly miss being decapitated by a speeding ourocycle. The rider swerves belatedly and then recovers, yelling something at me I can’t make out thanks to his helmet, but I don’t get the impression he’s asking if I’m okay.
More carefully this time, I pick my way across the road, avoiding any more idiotic mishaps before tumbling into the clothing shop, breathing heavily and looking like I’m stricken with terror.
“Dragons,” I shout in warning. “We need to hide!”
My fearmongering isn’t as instantaneously effective as it was in the bar, and the two shop clerks stare at me like I’m crazy, while a handful of customers look from me to the workers and back again, confused. Thankfully, that’s when a crowd of people outside go screaming by, and everyone in the store finally stirs with concern.
