Chapter 66 Damsel In Distress 2

Chapter 66 Damsel In Distress 2
Sable POV

I take three consecutive right turns through the downtown grid checking the rearview mirror at intervals like a hawk. The gray coloured vehicle is still exactly three car lengths behind my bumper.

I pull the burner phone from my jacket pocket and press the only programmed contact. It rings once before the line clicks open.

"Status," Drazen says.

"I have a tail," I say, my voice trembling slightly as I struggle with keeping my eyes on the road. "Gray four-door. They picked me up two blocks from the hospital. I can't head toward the tower."

The silence on the line lasts two seconds as his brain maps the city grid. "Where are you exactly?"

"Heading south and approaching the theater district."

"Keep your speed the same. Don't let them know that you know they are following you," he instructs, his voice a low and the only thing I hold onto.

When this ridiculous chase started, I wasn't afraid, infact, I was ready for anything not until Nera lifeless body flashed before my eyes and every boldness I had dissolved.

"... In three blocks, the road splits. Take the lower transit tunnel toward the financial sector." I hear Drazen say, pulling me back away from my thoughts.

I grip the steering wheel. "There are no exits in the there If they follow me in, there's no way out."

"Ashfall owns the maintenance infrastructure for the city's underground grid. Trust me."

I don't argue, I simply merge into the left lane and accelerate down the ramp into the tunnel. A second later, the gray vehicle headlights appear in my rearview mirror, maintaining the exact same distance.

"I'm in," I say into the phone. "They're still here."

"Half a mile down, you will see a service bay marked with a yellow hazard stripe. It looks like a dead end. It isn't. Turn the wheel hard and gun it."

I watch the walls blur past and spot the faded yellow paint just like he said. I jerk the steering wheel to the left, bracing for an impact against concrete.

Instead, my vehicle plows through what looks like a solid wall, tearing through a high-tech holographic projection tarp.

"I'm through," I breathe, my heart pounding against my ribs.

"The doors just locked behind you," Drazen says. "Leave the vehicle, there is a black town car in with the keys in the ignition. Take it, and come home."

Twenty minutes later, the elevator doors slide open into the penthouse.

And I walk straight into Drazen whose eyes map every inch of my face, scanning my uniform for tears or blood.

His large hands slide down my arms, tracing the bones, and checking for injuries. His touch is electric as his thumbs press into the pulse points on my wrists, feeling my racing heartbeat.

"I'm fine," I whisper, looking up at him. "They didn't touch me."

He drops his forehead against mine just inhaling the air around me. He wants to pull me against his chest, but he forces himself to step back, clearing his throat.

"Did you get the supplies?" he asks, his voice rough.

I nod, dropping the bag onto the floor. "Corticosteroids for Jonah’s defectors. And the silver sulfadiazine for Sera."

I look past his shoulder. Sera is sitting on the living room rug, her knees pulled to her chest. She is scratching at her left forearm.

I walk past Drazen, grabbing the tubes of cream from the bag then kneel on the rug next to her.

"Hey, sweetie," I say softly, gently pulling her hand away from her arm. "Don't scratch okay? You'll tear the skin."

She looks at me, her eyes wide and exhausted. She hasn't spoken a single word since the lab and simply holds her arm out to me.

The sight makes my stomach twist in half horror and half rage. The forced shift retreated after the electrocution stopped, but the dark scales didn't fully retract. They are stuck halfway through her epidermis, the surrounding human tissue inflamed, cracked, and seeping clear fluid.

Drazen sits on the floor on Sera’s opposite side. He doesn't look like a CEO or a lethal predator right now. He just looks like a father.

I unscrew the cap and squeeze a thick layer of the white cream onto my gloved fingers. "This is going to feel very cold, okay?"

She nods once before I spread the cream over the raw, inflamed tissue. She flinches, a silent tear slipping down her cheek.

Drazen reaches out and gently taps her chin, forcing her to look at him instead of the wound. "Do you remember the story Nera used to tell you about the first magma rivers?" he asks, his tone entirely stripped of its usual commanding edge.

She blinks, her attention catching on his voice.

"Before the city was built, the earth beneath us was solid," he continues, tracing a light, soothing pattern on the back of her uninjured hand. "The first dragons didn't dig the tunnels. The rivers of light you see in the Undercourt are just the..."

I work quickly while he talks, applying the soothing medicine to the scales on her arms and the back of her neck. Within minutes, her posture changes as she slowly stops scratching.

I finish wrapping a bandage loosely around her arm. "All done."

She looks at her bandaged arms, then looks at Drazen. She leans sideways, resting her head against him while he wraps his arm around her small frame, resting his chin on the top of her head.

I sit back on my heels, watching them. The emotional wall I spent years building around myself completely crumbles. I am looking at a man who would burn the world to the ground for his people, sitting on a rug, telling bedtime stories to keep a child from crying.

It occurs to me that I may have fallen in love with him.

He meets my gaze over Sera’s head and reads the change in my expression, his golden eyes darkening.

Sera eventually falls asleep against his side and he takes her to bed.

When he returns to the living room, the softness is gone. The reality of our situation settles back over the penthouse.

"The man at the hospital," I say, standing up. "He was wearing a maintenance uniform, but he had a coiled acoustic earpiece. I didn't see a weapon. But I smelled him."

He stops walking. "Bitter almond."

"Yes. It was overpowering. The Hunters didn't just map the hospital. They have operatives actively stationed at the exits. If I hadn't smelled the masking agent, I would have walked right past him."

Drazen walks to the window, looking out over the ignorant city.

"We are running out of time," he says grimly. "Carvek holds the iron gates, and the Hunters hold the surface. If we stay in this penthouse, they will eventually box us in. We have to accelerate the rebellion."

"Jonah has the safe house set up for the defectors," I remind him. "But we need more numbers if we are going to break Carvek's hold on the Undercourt."

"Then we stop hiding," he adds, turning to face me. "Tomorrow, we start striking back."