Chapter 184 184

Chapter 184 184
Lucian's POV:

Two days. We had two days.

Two days of normal, of stupid, boring, beautiful normal, where the worst thing that happened was Evie spilling orange juice on my shirt once I passed by their house and Emma texting me a photo of Captain Chompy, the toilet paper roll dragon, who had apparently gotten a wife now, a smaller toilet paper roll covered in pink glitter that Evie had named Princess Crunchface.

Two days where the burned pillowcase was in the bottom of Emma's laundry basket and the fitted sheet had a mark the size of my palm and I still grinned every time I thought about it, which was constantly, because my brain had decided that the memory of Emma saying "I don't care if the whole room burns" was going to live rent-free in my head for the rest of my natural life.

But on the third day, I was walking out of my last class morning when my phone rang. It was Kaelen.

"Lucian, where are you?"

"Leaving class. What's up?"

"Get to Marcus's cabin. Right now." His voice was doing the thing. The flat thing, the one that meant the Kaelen who was my brother had stepped back and the Kaelen who'd survived five years as our parent had stepped forward. "Marcus got a call from one of his contacts. The Order cells Nathaniel warned us about, they're moving. Not just surveillance anymore. Active recruitment, organized, multiple teams. One of them was spotted in Emberdale this morning."

"Spotted where?"

"Near the school district. Marcus wants everyone at the cabin in twenty minutes. Dad's already there. Mom's on her way. Marlen's—"

"Near the school district? Which school?"

"I don't—"

Another call was entering though WhatsApp. Emma's name on the screen.

"Hang on, Kaelen, Emma's calling."

"Lucian, don't hang—"

But I hung up and got her call.

"Hey, Emma, I was just about to—"

"Lucian." Her voice. Her voice was wrong. Breathing wrong, pitch wrong, everything wrong. "Evie's gone."

The hallway went silent. Students were walking past me, backpacks and sneakers and someone laughing about something and all of it went far away, like someone had turned the volume down on the entire world.

"What do you mean gone?"

"She was in her room. I was downstairs making mac and cheese. I went up to check on her and she's not THERE, Lucian, the window is open, she can't even reach the window, she can't—" Her voice broke. Cracked in half. "The rabbit's on the floor. She never leaves the rabbit."

Near the school district. The school district where Evie's mom worked. The school district that was four blocks from Maple Street. Evie's school had parent-teacher conferences today, half day for the kids. Mrs. Thomas was stuck at the school running them until five. Mr. Thomas at the store. Emma had picked up Evie at noon. They'd been home alone all afternoon.

"I'm coming."

"Lucian, the WINDOW—"

"I'm coming. Stay in the house. Don't leave. I'm coming right now."

I called Kaelen again. "Kaelen."

"What happened? I told you not to—"

"They took Evie."

Silence. One second. Two.

"What?"

"Emma's sister. Evie. She's five years old. She was in her room and now she's gone and the window is open and the contact said they were spotted near the school district and the school district is four blocks from Emma's house, Kaelen, they took a FIVE-YEAR-OLD—"

"Where are you?"

"Campus. I'm going to Emma's house."

"Wait for me, I'll come get you, we'll go together—"

"I'm not waiting."

"Lucian—"

I hung up. And I ran. Out of the building, across the quad, through the parking lot, past the sandwich place on Cedar that smelled like pickles, down the block toward Maple Street, and I wasn't running the way a human runs. I was running the way I ran when I stopped pretending, long strides that ate ten feet at a time, my body doing what it was built to do, and people on the sidewalk stopped and stared because nobody moves like that, nobody covers ground that fast on two legs, and I didn't care who saw.

Emma's house in four minutes. The front door was unlocked. She was in the kitchen, phone in her hand, face white, the stove already off with a pot of half-cooked noodles sitting in cloudy water. I went straight upstairs.

Evie's room. The door was open. Crayons on the floor, the dragon wall, the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling with the corner peeling. The rabbit with the chewed ear was on the floor near the bed, face down, and Evie never left it like that. She put it on the pillow every morning, ears up, face out. Someone had knocked it off.

The window was open. A foot and a half, the curtain pushed to one side. Cold air coming in. The latch was the old kind, push up and slide, and Evie couldn't reach it. I looked at the sill. Scuff marks on the paint. Someone had climbed in, or out, or both.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

I looked at the screen.

A photo. Evie, sitting on a concrete floor, purple dinosaur shirt, face blotchy and streaked with dried tears, hands in front of her with white zip ties around her wrists. Behind her a brick wall with water stains. Under the photo, coordinates. Then the words: "Come alone. No other dragons. You have one hour. Or we start with the child."

The gold didn't push. It didn't surge. It just came. All of it, everywhere, and my hands were hot and the veins in my wrists were visible through the skin and the air around me was shimmering and I could feel the other shape under my skin, the gold dragon, pressing outward.

Emma was behind me. She'd followed me up. I turned and she saw my face, my eyes, which must have been full gold because she flinched, and I showed her the phone.

She read it. I watched her face go from white to gray.

"Don't go alone," she said. "Call Kaelen. Call Marcus. Don't—"

"They said alone, Emma."

"They don’t want Evie. They want you and they'll kill you!"

"But they have her."

I sent her Kaelen's contact and their message and then put the phone in my pocket. Picked up the rabbit from the floor. Placed it on the pillow, ears up, face out, the way Evie liked it. And I looked at Emma and her face was terrified and tears were running down her cheeks and I wanted to stay, wanted to hold her, wanted to do anything other than what I was about to do.

"Close the window. Text your mom something normal. Then call Kaelen and give him the coordinates."

"Lucian, if you go alone they'll—"

"I know."

"Then DON'T!"

"She's five years old and she's on a concrete floor with zip ties on her wrists and she's scared and she's waiting for someone to come get her. And the only reason she's there is because of me. Because they know what I am and they want what's in my blood and they took a five-year-old to get it."

I kissed her forehead. Hard, quick, my lips burning against her skin.

"I love you," I said. "Call Kaelen."

And I ran.

Down the stairs, out the front door, down Maple Street toward the coordinates, which my phone said were two and a half miles southeast, past the industrial park, past the old lumber yard. I ran and the gold was everywhere and I wasn't trying to contain it and the pavement under my feet was warm where I stepped and I didn't look back because looking back meant stopping and stopping meant thinking and thinking meant being afraid and I didn't have time for afraid.

Evie was waiting for me.

And I was coming.