Page 56 of Escape from the Green

I could mourn later.

I kept my head down as I moved out of the hallway, back toward the front entrance, trying not to run, trying not to draw attention to myself, even as I heard the faint sound of Jet's voice behind me, steering his father and their men back away from me.

My stomach was in knots, my heart a frantic pounding as I broke out of the front entrance, the humid air smacking me in the face as I tried to take a breath, tried to calm myself.

My foot had just met the first step when my gaze moved outward, scanning perhaps for threats.

But my eyes were drawn to a group standing at the edge of the sidewalk, their backs turned to me.

Out of place.

That was my first impression.

Not that being out of place was uncommon in a place that no one truly belonged.

But this wasn't tourist cluelessness, or starry-eyed newcomers.

This was natural fabrics, weird hair adornments, and the rigidity that could only come from a mix of overwhelmingness and likely a twinge of pain with all the metal around.

Fae.

A group of fae.

My back stiffened, immediately thinking it was more of Cass' minions.

But then a head turned over a shoulder, giving me a view of a profile.

A profile that was supposed to belong to a dead man.

I didn't pause to think it over, to blink a few times to make sure my brain wasn't playing tricks on me. I just flew down the stairs, ramming a shoulder or two on my way, not even bothering to say excuse me as I barreled toward the trio.

Even if Cass didn't know that Drake was involved in my escape, he was in danger. Because like my parents, Cass liked to collect special fae. A Draca would make a great addition to his collection.

My hand reached out, closing around Drake's, squeezing hard.

His head whipped around, confused for a second, then relieved, followed by worried.

"We need to run," I hissed at him, at them, grabbing his hand tighter, turning, and bolting.

I was vaguely aware of his friends falling into step behind us, their presence right at our backs.

I had no idea who they were, if they were relatives, if he had made it back to his land.

Hell, I had no idea why Drake was here at all.

But all I knew was whatever the reason - and whoever his friends were - we needed to get as far from the museum as quickly as possible.

"Amy," Drake's voice called, almost annoyingly in control of his breath while my lungs felt like they were in a vice grip. "What's going on? Where are we going?"

"Cass was at the museum," I managed to gasp out, dragging him down another block, knowing it would eventually lead to my apartment building.

Only when we were standing out front did I slow, stop, take in a breath that burned in my lungs.

Reaching up, I swiped my forearm across my damp brow, trying to get my heartbeat to slow down.

"I have to pack and leave," I told him when I found my voice again. "Jet said I have to get out of here."

"Wait... Jet told you?" Drake asked, brows furrowed.