Please don’t be a Thrasher. Please don’t be a Thrasher.
Red spots Blondie and starts moving toward us. Once more, I try to move around the Channeler, only for him to block my way again. I bite back an annoyed sigh as I return my attention to the big blond fucker, my features a mask of indifference while my insides are liquifying with dread.
“Can I go?” I huff at the Channeler. “I’m not who you’re looking for.”
His brown eyes narrow slightly at that statement, and I internally want to kick my own ass.
“Who said we’re looking for anyone?” Blondie asks, studying me a little too closely for my liking.
I roll my eyes, then realize he can’t see it behind the dark lenses I’m wearing. The sun’s set just enough that eyewear really isn’t necessary anymore, but I’m hoping the walking talking brick wall doesn’t think twice about it.
“Why else would The Horde be here?” I counter.
The gleam of suspicion in his gaze dims as he looks me over and scents me again. My logic seems to register to him, supported by the way I look and the fact that I don’t smell like a dragon.
Did the hospital not explain that fact to them?
The redheaded male is less than ten feet away, and the need to be on the move before he fully closes the distance hammers my insides.
“Besides, I just saw someone else in armor like yours chasing a woman in blue scrubs with orange hair,” I supply, pointing over my shoulder at the main road. “She looked scared,” I add as the drake’s focus snaps to the road behind me.
I try not to hold my breath as I wait the second it takes for Blondie to take my bait, but my heart kicks up against my will when he steps around me, all his attention back on the beloved hunt and not on our trivial exchange.
“This way, Ogdan,” he calls to the other drake, and I refuse to track them with my eyes as they start to jog down the lane, my existence all at once long forgotten.
It’s almost impossible not to run, knowing two members of The Horde are less than ten feet away, but somehow I keep my strides unhurried as I continue with my nonchalant skedaddle. I’m almost to the mouth of an alley half a block down when a command comes from behind me.
“Stop!”
I dare a glance over my shoulder and immediately regret it when I see Blondie and Red swiftly marching back in my direction.
“Take your glasses off and pull your hood down,” Red orders, his stern face now locked on me and teeming with indictment and a hard glint of determination.
Fuck.
With zero hesitation, I dash for the alley, sprinting with everything I have down the darkening narrow path between tall buildings. Behind me, the pounding footfall of the drakes drowns out the frantic cannon fire of my pulse. They shout commands at me that I ignore, and quickly relay their location to someone else, calling in reinforcements.
I run full out, winding down thinning lanes and barreling around corners, but the two big bastards keep on me. I rip the glasses off my face so I can see better, and my cowl slips off my head, letting my flame-colored locks stream behind me like some taunting flag to a pair of enraged bulls.
The drakes announce my description to whoever is on the other line of their coms, and when they get confirmation that I’m who they’re after, their pace alarmingly picks up like they were taking it easy and toying with me before.
As I tear down another back way, the foreboding I’ve been keeping at bay crests when I see a two-story metal fence cutting off the far end. The drakes behind me slow a little like they expect me to realize I’m caught and give up, but a little chain link obstacle won’t be my downfall.
I leap for the barrier, trying to get as high up on the fence as I can before I start to scramble up the rest. One of the drakes curses, just as a lirocar speeds to a stop on the other side of the barrier I’m scaling. A large body slams into the chain link below me, and I almost lose my footing.
“Give it up now, lass. We’ve got you surrounded,” Red barks as he climbs after me.
I’m tempted to flip him off, but instead I flip myself over the top of the metal fence. The bottom of my skirt catches on the sharp tip of a link and rips up the side, but flashing a little cheek is the least of my problems right now.
I don’t even pause as I use the fence for leverage and leap onto the roof of the floating lirocar now below me. More swearing explodes at my back, and I scramble to keep my footing on the slippery surface of the fancy floating airboat. I slide down the dark windshield, picking up speed as I ride the sleek aerodynamic shape of the matte black car until I reach the front where the vehicle comes to a sharp point—allowing it to cut through air like a hot knife through butter.
The car starts to drop, clearly trying to land, but I have no illusions that whoever is driving is trying to help me get down safely. No, whoever’s inside wants out, and the doors probably won’t open while the vehicle is suspended midair.
Gravity continues to work in my favor, and I slide right off the front of the lirocar and land on the ground with a pained grunt before pushing myself up and bolting away.
I want to crow with elation that my body isn’t giving out on me yet. I know the healers went to work fixing everything they could—and I’m currently feeding off of straight adrenaline and fright—but I’m not a fraction as bad as I was when I was running from the blood brokers before, and that feels like a miracle.
The alley I’m in spits me out onto a larger main road, and I race down the sidewalk, dismissing shops and restaurants as places I could slip in to try to lose The Horde. I spot an airtram down the way but quickly reject the slow floating public transport as a getaway car. If I could steal an ourocycle though…
