He flips me off and goes back to work while I laugh, and after two days at this rate, both trucks end up full to bursting. Yri takes one and Cai the other, leaving my standard shadow by my side. We finally get a rest from the breakneck speed we’ve been pulling, and so soon after the Gauntlet, I’m beyond worn out.
“So what do you say, nap?”
I stretch, extending my arms above my head. We start walking towards their house, nothing to do now but settle in and wait.
“I need to swing by the utility company first, but sure,” he rumbles.
“Someone really needs to invent a way to pay from our phones; we could save so much legwork.”
He chuckles. “Well you better get right on that, little dragon, and make us our millions.”
We continue weaving our way between people on the sidewalk as my sleep deprived brain mulls it over. “We just need a way to connect the computers the same way we do phones so we can pass information from one to the other, like a giant web. Then everyone would know what’s going on in different parts of the world so much easier.” I trail off, lost in thought as we get in line to pay.
“Ezra.” I turn at the sound of my name, finding Vince standing in the line beside us.
There are about four people ahead of either of us, waiting for their turn at the two plexiglass covered windows inside the small lobby. Soren’s hand falls possessively on my shoulder and I lean into the touch instinctively.
“Hey.” I give a half wave in a pitiful attempt at civility.
“I got another shipment in recently that might interest you,” he offers and Ren’s hand tightens on my shoulder, knowing after last time I’m tempted to go break into his car while he’s still inside.
“Nah, I’m good, but thanks for offering.”
Anything involving Vince is a bad idea. He’ll definitely want something in exchange, and after Yri and Ren’s concerns he’s involved in trafficking, it’s not worth the risk just for something shiny.
He continues on trying to entice me anyway. “This one’s an obsidian blade set into an opal handle, goes for a pretty penny.”
Don’t picture it, don’t picture it, stop picturing it...fuck.
“Ezra!” Soren snaps, shaking my shoulder.
I let my nails lengthen into claws and dig them into my palms until I feel blood pooling. The pain helps to ground me, get me out of my head. I glare at Vince’s smirking face, debating if we can afford bail right now.
“Fuck off,” I snap, breaking the staring contest and turning to pointedly ignore him.
Of course, that’s when I see the people in line ahead of us staring back at me with their pupils blown. I whirl back around to Vince who’s still smirking, but not nearly as lost as the men around us are. The first fist flies, coming from Soren when a guy shoved him.
It devolves into chaos, too many bodies in the small space. I drive my knee into one guy’s groin, slamming my elbow back to bash into another’s nose. When I feel a hand wrap around my arm, my skin heats to blistering levels, but still, he doesn’t let go.
Vince is sneering down at me, his eyes dancing with cruel satisfaction. My eyes quickly dart from his face to his hold, noting the glove covering his skin. He’s an idiot if he thought that’s all it would take to gain the upper hand.
While one arm may be restrained, the other isn’t. Two seconds later my knife is buried into his forearm and I yank it down with a spray of blood.
Stab first, ask questions later.
I tug my arm free and stop holding back, kicking the side of his kneecap hard enough I know I broke something. He goes down with a howl, and just like my training sessions with the triplets, I drive my fist into his temple. He drops, not getting back up.
I turn when I feel a pinch in the side of my neck, dread pooling in my stomach. I can already feel the sluggishness hitting my muscles. With as overtired and exhausted as I already was, it’s hitting me quickly. I bring a flame to my palm and bitchslap the motherfucker, reveling in his scream.
My vision starts to waver, but I don’t waste however much time I have left being distracted, searching out Soren. Another swipe of my knife and a few hits, and my legs give out, crashing to my knees. My ears are ringing and when a hand reaches for me, I strive for the flames I always call for, not finding so much as an ember.
All that remains are ashes, quickly slipping through my fingers.
***
Everything’s dark andmy head is screaming, threatening to make me vomit. I take slow, deep breaths, trying to wrangle my scattered thoughts into something resembling useful.
Focus, Ezra, fight through the fog.
