Page 69 of Princess of Thieves

I swivel in my seat, stomach dropping. Red and blue lights flash behind us, closing in fast. “Fuck,” I hiss, and turn back to the guys. “He caught up.”

“No shit.” Will’s jaw clenches as he presses the pedal harder. “LJ, did you check the plates?”

LJ turns to glare at him, his eyes narrowing in the rearview mirror. “I did. On all of them. The car’s clean.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Will says, the last of his calm slipping away as the sheriff’s car gains on us. “How’d he find us, then? Magic?”

The engine screams as we streak down the last stretch of open road. Trees whip past as we plunge into the forest, the air going cool around us even though it’s anything but still.

The siren wails louder, closer, and Will curses under his breath.

“Hold on.”

The car jerks as we swerve off the main road, cutting down a narrow lane that leads deeper into Sherwood Forest. The tires skid on the dirt path, but Will keeps control, his face set in grim concentration.

I grip the seat in front of me, heart racing as we weave through the trees, the sheriff’s car not far behind. The road is a blur of twists and sharp turns, but the lights won’t go away.

LJ, for his part, throws a glance at me and softens his expression.

“Almost there,” he whispers through gritted teeth. He’s gripping the door handle, his eyes locked on the road ahead. I nod, hoping he’s right—and then the mansion looms in the distance, cresting from behind the thick line of trees.

“Back gate,” Will says, and I can see it now—the narrow metal gate tucked away at the edge of the property, just on the border of Rob’s shooting range. There’s a small clearing in front of it, and Will kills the engine the second we roll up, all but fishtailing the car into place.

“Out,” he snaps, already pushing open his door. “Go, Maren!”

I stumble out of the backseat, disoriented in spite of myself, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Will’s at my side instantly, hustling me toward the gate, and LJ’s footsteps are behind us, heavy, deliberate.

I find my feet and dash forward, but they don’t come with me. I spin, panicked, to see what’s wrong...

And then it happens.

Will’s body ripples, his skin flushing out to scales, his limbs elongating sinewy and sleek, twisting into an impossibly massive form. With a whiplike snap, his wings expand, and the air crackles with heat as he swoops forward—a dragon.

LJ isn’t far behind. He sprints into a leap, swiveling midair like a gymnast as his muscles bulk out and his body bristles with fur. He lands with a crash and an earsplitting bellow, a hulking bear.

I’m frozen. I can’t help it. It’s only the second time I’ve this kind of thing and my subconscious still isn’t ready for the smack of the reality of it all: the sheer power in their forms, the optical illusion of the transformation. My brain can’t process it, like an old computer trying to play HD video, and for a second I just stand there, awestruck, short-circuited.

But there’s no time to admire. Because the sheriff’s car pulls up, and a deputy rolls out of the driver’s side, gun drawn.

And I freeze again.

Because it’s him.

The same deputy who saw me on the Fourth of July, the same one who showed up at the mansion asking about Rob.

“Don’t move!” he screams.

My heart races, and I stumble backward, instincts taking over. I sprint through gate, heading for the archery field, for the house, but before I can get far, I all but slam into Rob. I fall into his chest, gasping.

“Rob,” I pant. “It’s him. They’re—”

“I saw,” he says quickly. “On the cameras.” He hoists his crossbow. “Get inside. Get safe. I’m gonna shoot this mother—”

I move, nodding, but something in Rob’s voice makes my feet skid to a stop beneath me.

Confusion flashes across his face, and he lowers his crossbow, slowly, eyes narrowing at the deputy. Then his stancesoftens, his head tipping sideways as he squints the guy down, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

I glance between him and the deputy, my breath coming fast. “Rob?” I ask, my voice wavering.

---