Page 84 of Ensnared
His eyes look so pained, so conflicted. “But if that happens, then. . .I don’t know which is worse.”
“I hope it works,” I say. “And I hope the world is free of the ravages of the blessed soon.”
“I’d let them stay if it meant you were free,” he says. “I know that sounds awful, but the rest of the world can die, as long as you live.”
I can’t help smiling at his sentiment, misguided though it is. He might say it, but I know full well that neither of us would ever act on something like that. “Take the kids to safety. Tell your superiors to hit the convention center. Give the world its best chance at a return to normal. That’s what I want more than anything else.”
Gideon balls his hands into fists. “Maybe I tell them to wait. I could ask them to delay until tomorrow?—”
“When we won’t have any idea where all the dragons will be.” I shake my head. “You’re a warrior, and a warrior listens to his companions. I’m telling you to take the shot.”
“I know you can’t come with us—you won’t endanger your siblings’ chance at escape. But you have to promise me that the second we leave, you’ll get away from here. I don’t care which direction you go as long as it’s away from the convention center.”
“I can take one of the cars and drive,” I say. “At least to the edge of their occupation. All the blessed will be answering to Azar, so no one can stop me.”
“Yes.” Gideon nods. “Do that.” He breathes a huge sigh of relief. “Then once it’s done, you can circle up north and look for any military personnel. Tell them you need to talk to me.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can’t go with you, but I can get clear.”
I can’t even watch as they drive away. I’m forced to call Gordon over and distract him while they depart, so he won’t notice that all three of my siblings and Gideon are leaving. “I need a favor,” I say.
Gordon always changes into his human form to talk to me, even though we can communicate telepathically. I used to think it was to practice, but now I think he might be attempting courtesy. “What is it?” He looks nervous. “I have to leave soon.”
There’s a grub on his neck. I can’t focus on anything with that thing wriggling on him, all white and disgusting. “Um. There’s. . .” I point. “I think you missed one.”
“Oh.” He plucks it carefully from his shoulder and pops it in his mouth.
I choke.
“They taste better in my other form,” he says. “But they’re not bad like this. I can bring you some if you want to try them. They get better every time.”
“Ah, an acquired taste.” I can’t get that image of him popping that squirmy, dirty whitish thing in his mouth. “That’s a hard pass from me, but thanks.”
“Oh good,” he says. “I didn’t really want to share, but Sammy says I’m supposed to.”
Sammy says. Do not cry, you stupid idiot.
“Are you alright?” Gordon asks. “You look. . .not well.”
“Yesterday was a rough day,” I say.
“I heard.” He frowns. “But I really don’t have long to chat. I don’t have wings, so it takes me a little longer to get places.”
“That’s what it’s about,” I say. “Axel was worried about what may happen today, and after he left, I realized that he might need his swords.”
“His swords?” Gordon frowns. “Why would he?—”
“If Azar doesn’t kill Ocharta, she could challenge him.” I have no idea whether this could happen, but I need some kind of excuse. “He can’t beat her in his dragon form.” Is that true? I’m not even sure.
“But—”
“I proved yesterday that strike blessed aren’t good at dealing with blades.”
“I heard you did well against them with the daggers.”
“I can’t let him face her alone,” I say. “He needs our support.”
Gordon looks torn.
