Cash yanked me to the side and then behind him, turning to look at me. “Daphne, I need you to ru—”
A whistling sound filled the air, cutting off Cash’s words. It was quickly followed by a wet thud.
Cash frowned looking down, and there, in the center of his chest, was the point of a crossbow bolt, covered in thick, black blood. In the nearly three months that I’d known Cash, I’d never considered what color his blood would be. Horror filled me at the realization that he’d been hit.
“Cash,” I gasped, reaching up to put my hand on the wound.
“Run, dragonfly,” he managed to say through gritted teeth as his gray skin began to darken and so did the clothes he was wearing. He removed my hand, pressing it into my own chest.
“What’s happening Cash?” I asked, not wanting to leave him behind.
Cash’s silver eyes were wide as he winced in pain, each of his muscles seeming to lock up as the darker color spread. “Stone sle—” he began, but stopped, his face completely frozen.
Every part of Cash had turned into a statue, his face still twisted in agony.
I put my hand on his chest, but instead of the soft gray skin that it usually was, it was completely hard. “Cash? Cash wake up.”
Was he dead? He couldn’t be dead.
My mind ran through everything I knew about gargoyles. Cash had mentioned that most gargoyles only go into stone sleep during the solstices, but also that if they were gravely hurt that it helped them to heal.
He’s just healing,I told myself silently as the sound of footsteps came closer to where Cash had huddled over me before he’d been hit.He’s not dead. He just needs to heal.
Cash may not have been dead, but I was on my own now.
“Mina,” Mike sang, sending chills down my spine.
I didn’t want to leave Cash here, but I knew that if I could just get back to the bar I could get help from everyone.
Turning, I ducked out from under Cash’s arms and began to sprint back towards the Wharf.
Another whistling noise filled the air and I mentally prepared myself to be hit by another crossbow bolt. Instead, something else wrapped around my ankles, sending me tumbling into the asphalt.
Pain lanced through me as my skin scraped against the ground. My chin, knees, and elbows were undoubtedly bleeding as I groaned and rolled onto my back.
Get up, get up, get up,my inner-voice chanted at me as I sat up and tried to untie the rope with two weights that they’d thrown at me, only to find that it was hopelessly tangled.
“Daphne?” a familiar voice came from behind me.
Ambrose was standing ten feet away, his hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. It looked like he was coming from the beach as his boots were still covered in sand.
Out of all of the people who worked at Monstrous Ink, Ambrose was the last person I wanted to see right now. But he was all I had.
“Help us,” I pleaded.
Ambrose glanced between me and the crowd of men closing in, and for just a split second, I thought he was going to turn and leave me.
But then I heard him curse and begin running towards me. At first, I wasn’t sure what a dark elf could do against such a large group, but then he reached into his waistband and pulled out a black pistol.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Ambrose fired at them, the sound ringing in my ears as two of the men dropped to the ground.
Then Ambrose was next to me, hauling me up by one of my elbows which was still screaming with pain.
“Can you run?” he asked, before glancing down at my still-tied ankles. “No, of course you can’t,” he muttered to himself.
He held the gun up again, but froze.
