Page 227 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

“Keep going,” she whispered to herself. “Just keep going.”

When she hit the final landing, her knees nearly collapsed out from underneath her. She held onto therailing for a second too long before pushing out to the loading docks. Because of the late hour, there weren’t as many people working, but it wasn’t empty, either.

“Your shoulder!” a man said with wide eyes. “You need a doctor.”

With her gun held at her side, she marched forward. Her head was spinning, but she couldn’t stop. At least she’d chosen right—gold magic floated around Jason’s legs as he used it to help himself into the van.

She lifted her weapon and fired at him. Shouts rang from the workers as they all ducked behind equipment and hid. Her shoulder screamed as she tried to hold the gun steady and continue toward the van. Jason ducked down out of sight. The door to the van slammed shut. The tires screeched as it backed out of the loading dock. Kierse kept firing. She tried to focus on the tires like she had when she’d chased Imani, but her vision was blurring. Was that blood loss? Magic drain?

“Fuck!” she screamed as her bullets embedded into the side of the van, but it continued out of the dock and onto the streets.

She ran to the exit only to watch it disappear from view.

He was gone. Jason was gone. All of that and he’d gotten away. She dropped to her knees as the adrenaline slipped away from her. She was in a bad way. She needed…

What did she need?

Graves.

A way to escape this.

The workers were still cowering, glancing over the tops of boxes to see if the worst was over. They’d all been so conditioned by the Monster War that no one had even intervened. Which benefited her, at least.

She wouldn’t make the blocks north to get to Graves’s brownstone. Not on foot, at least. She needed a cell phone. She needed—

With all the adrenaline gone, another pulse of magic hummed louder. She’d been so caught up in the ordeal with Jason that she hadn’t been able to focus on anything else. Now, as it was all going dark, she realized that Lorcan had gotten closer. Very close. Had he heard her plea?

A black van stopped in front of the docks, and the passenger door ripped open. Her magic went wild, pulsing in her chest to the tempo of her blood flowing through her veins. She brought her gaze up to meet the blue eyes of her rescuer.

“I’ve got you,” Lorcan said.

He lifted her up into his arms. The connection between them picked up from trot to a gallop.

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“I heard you call for me,” he said. “I’ll always come.”

She stared up into his face for a moment before giving in and leaning her head against his chest. He carried her to the van. The door to the back slid open. Niamh was perched inside, her face a mask of worry.

“Hurry. She’s lost a lot of blood,” Niamh said.

Lorcan lifted Kierse inside. Then he hoisted himself inside as well. “Declan, move,” he barked.

His second grumbled something under his breath but got the van moving out onto the street.

Lorcan cradled her head into his lap. He brushed her hair out of her eyes as Niamh went to work ripping away part of her dress to get a look at the damage. So many beautiful dresses she’d ruined in the past few weeks.

“You’re okay now,” Lorcan told her.

She hissed as Niamh began to work on her wound. She didn’t understand the healing magic, only that it wasnotpainless like she’d thought.

“Sorry,” Niamh said quickly. “Think good thoughts. The rest might hurt.”

“Thank you,” she whispered to both of them.

“Close your eyes. You’re safe.”

Safe. She was safe.

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