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“You’re going to have to do better than that.” She said dryly, standing back up, blue lightning still crackling across her skin. Kieran laughed.
“Oh, how I’ve missed that spirit!” He quipped and I felt his aura build.
‘Run Raven. Run now.’ Clair hissed into my mind. ‘I’ll hold him off.’
‘I won’t leave you.’ I said back, even my mental voice was breaking with emotion. ‘I don’t even know where to go.’ Her glowing white eyes broke away from Kieran to glance at me for a split second, before returning to the man attacking us.
‘Yes, you do Raven. Follow your instincts. You’ll know what to do.’ She whispered back. The dark beat of Kieran’s magick was growing and he began to laugh. He spread his arms wide as the power grew.
“Are you ready for this one, my little protégé?” He called out, his English accent drowning in his madness.
‘This is not the time to be cryptic mom!’ I was crying now, real tears streaming down my face.
‘There’s no time Raven. Go. Now!’ She twisted the wrist of the hand that had been held out to protect me moments before, and a gentle gush of power pushed me several feet away from her. ‘I will find you Raven. Anywhere is safer than here right now.’
After one more moment of hesitation, I did as she asked. I turned back the way we came and cringed as the first of the spells were unleashed behind me. Everyone I trusted to protect me was risking their lives while I ran away. I’ve never hated myself more.
45
I was sprinting down the street, barefoot and lost in my own city. I didn’t know where I was or where I was going. My mom had told me I would know what to do, but I didn’t. I was lost just a few blocks from my own home. I knew these streets like the back of my hand but I couldn’t tell left from right. I was nearly hysterical.
As I ran deeper into the city, I passed late-night pedestrians on the sidewalk. I couldn’t ask anyone for help. I was sure I looked insane in my pajamas, running shoeless down the sidewalk. I finally ducked into an alley between a bar and a convenience store. My breathing was ragged from both the anxiety and the running. The adrenaline was wearing off and the sheer panic was kicking in.
I couldn’t get a grip on myself. I was spiraling out of control. I sunk down against the greasy alley wall, squatting on the heels of my feet. I put my head in between my knees and let out an exasperated scream. The patrons of the pub smoking outside shuffled to the other side of the pub front, away from the crazy person losing her mind in the alleyway.
I had to think . Think Raven. Clair had told me I would know what to do, but I could barely reach my aura. The triquetra had somehow become even more suffocating since I had met Kieran. I tried to touch it again, to pull it off my neck but hissed as it immediately flared and burned my fingers. I wondered vaguely if Kieran had done anything to it in Mr. Abbey’s house.
Where was Mr. Abbey? Could I call him? I didn't have my cell phone. The idea of me walking into the pub behind me and asking to use the phone was laughable. They would call the police immediately, especially the way I was dressed. I ran my hands over my face and my fingers brushed the cold spot on my chin where Amon had touched me in the library.
Amon. Should I call him? Would it make things worse? The thought of Amon right now did not terrify me the way meeting Kieran had. I had to trust my gut, I literally didn’t have any other options at this point. Clair had told me I would know what to do. This felt like the right thing to do.
I reached a shaking hand to my chin and hesitated for just a moment before committing to pressing my finger against it. After a deep breath, I built my resolve. I was going to do it. I was going to call him. My fingertip brushed the cold point on my chin again and I focused.
‘ Amon. Amon, help me.’ I breathed. There was nothing. Come on . I tried again.
‘Amon, can you hear me?’ Then there was a flicker.
‘That charm is blocking me, I can’t see you. Where are you?’ His voice was very faint, barely a whisper. So quiet, I could have convinced myself I imagined it. I exhaled a sigh of relief, before I realized I had no idea where I was. I braced my hands against the sticky alley wall to help myself up.
I would run out to the street signs and tell him where I was and he would come get me, he wouldn’t want me to die. I owed him a life debt, he would want to cash that in. Hope built in my chest again as I staggered to my feet. I rubbed my dirty hands against my thighs in frustration. I would get out of this.
I had taken my first step towards the street when I heard a dangerously familiar voice behind me.
“Hello, Kitten.” Rycon said, as he dropped from the pub’s fire escape. “You’re a long way from home.” He stood before me in his usual uniform. Jeans worn through at the knees, motorcycle boots with a white t-shirt. His short leather jacket hung off of his lithe frame as if he had been born in it. I choked at the sight of him.
“Rycon,” I gasped, relief flooding into my chest. He had come back . I wasn’t alone. “We have to go. I’m going to call Amon, I think it’s the only thing to do. You were right. These people are dangerous. My mom was the Nightshade that had emancipated herself. She’s fighting with Kieran right now. It isn’t safe.” I stumbled towards the street and suddenly he was in front of me, blocking my way.
“Rycon? Didn't you hear me? We have to go. Do you know what street this is?” I asked, peering over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the intersection. He touched my shoulders almost gingerly, and finally, I stopped and looked at him. Really looked at him.
His expression was grave. His usual ‘go fuck yourself’ attitude was nowhere in sight. I searched his face, my eyes darting back and forth. I couldn’t reach him through the pinch Kieran had placed on our bond.
“Rycon?” My voice was quiet now, barely a whisper. Realization was beginning to dawn on me, I just didn’t want to believe it. His hands were still on my arms, and his strange yellow eyes fell down to his fingers as he played with the low-hanging sleeves of my t-shirt. I began to push away from him as I realized what was happening, and his grip tightened, holding me in place.
He pulled his unearthly eyes away from my shirt sleeves as if escaping some sort of dream, and met my gaze head on.
“I’m sorry, Kitten,” he said softly. I think on some level he was.
“Not sorry enough,” I breathed back, understanding now that the chase was over, and I had lost the race.
