“He should hear it from you.”
“If he heard that from me, he’d come after me,” Lucidia said, taking another glance into the truck. “You know he would. Then you’d be on your own.”
“I can take care of myself.”
Lucidia quelled a smile. “I know.”
After a moment, Megan let out a frustrated huff. “You two deserve eachother, you know that?”
Lucidia smiled at that, a small smile, enjoying the memories and the sight of him. “Probably.”
“You know where to reach us. Call. Especially if you’re going to die. He’ll be ripping his hair out,” she grumbled, slamming the truck door.
Lucidia watched them drive off, leaving her in a cloud of diesel choked dust. She turned her sights on the Dallas skyline, tracing each building before setting off.
Robin
Seeing his eyes open sent a rush of relief through her.
They’d gotten the preliminary shock out of the way and had eaten lunch. Willow and Dag had gone on an errand to get supplies for something and had left her and Reykon sitting at the table, sipping on more of that delicious, spicy tea. She glanced at the clock, which was nearing 3 p.m, and bringing her closer to Friday.
“So, you’re healed,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” he said with a charming smile. “I’d like to thank the ambulance driver for such a speedy getaway.”
This made her smile, despite the impending deadline. Back to his usual self, it seemed.
“Does it hurt?”
“Nope. Good as new.”
“How?” Robin asked, shaking her head in amazement.
“Strongbloods heal fast, and ever faster with the help of magic. But honestly, I’m more curious about how we got here.”
She figured he would be and gave a nod.
“I drove,” Robin said with a smile.
“Obviously,” he retorted. “But how did you shake the others?”
“I stole their car, and then made it look like we’d died in the wreck. They’ve probably figured it out by now, but I figured it would save us some time.”
Reykon raised an eyebrow. “That was very smart thinking. I’m impressed.”
“You’re rubbing off on me,” Robin said with a soft smile.
Reykon studied her face. She could feel his eyes on her but didn’t want to scare him from looking. After a few moments, she glanced up to him. “What is it?”
“They offered you freedom,” he whispered.
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you take it?” His voice was almost lamenting.
She let out a bitter laugh. “It would have been the smart call.”
“Why, Robin?”
The pretense, the shield of thin humor, dropped from her face. “You,” she whispered. “If I escaped, Magnus would have killed you.”
“That was your chance,” he said in a sad voice.
“I couldn’t do it.”
“But-”
“Stop,” she said sharply. “I know that it was stupid. I know that you don’t feel the same way, and that you’re compelled to follow his orders. I know all of that, and I still couldn’t make myself leave. It’s my life, and I make my own choices – this one might be the wrong one, but it’s the one I made.”
Her eyes were now drilling into his, and, to her surprise, she felt no tears. She was steady as a rock. “The way I see it, I could have run, and then I’d be looking over my shoulder every day of the rest of my life, waiting for Darian or Magnus or you to find me. Or I could spend the remaining few hours I have looking for reminders that the world is a good place, full of good people, like I was raised to believe, and not a fucked up slave market like everybody’s telling me. I’m more inclined to the latter.”
He searched her face, a sad look passing over his dark, glinting eyes. “You’re much too good for our world, Robin Wright.”
Reykon
After their brief moment of utter, bare-faced honesty, Robin had drawn in a sharp breath and asked him what they should do in the meantime, waiting for Willow and Dag to make preparations for their journey.
She seemed antsy and he wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her that everything would be okay. To squeeze her and feel her arms, squeezing him back.
He wanted to tell her everything; how he felt, what Willow had said about her not being completely human, how he couldn’t bear the thought of bringing her to Magnus.
But as he watched her, trying so hard to act happy, to squeeze the remaining moments of life out of a sinking ship, he decided that he couldn’t cause her any more pain than she’d already experienced. Minutes ticked by and bled into hours. After a while, her anger faded to numb boredom and she got up.
He watched her, ambling around the little apartment like a hyper puppy, looking for something to play with. She opened up a closet and gasped in shock.
Reykon quirked an eyebrow.
“Monopoly!” she said with a light laugh.
This caused him to smile; to truly smile in that light, easy way that he felt when he was near her. “Is it fun?”
Her eyes widened. “You’ve never played?”
“No,” he said.
Robin grabbed the box and set it down on the table, clearing everything else off. “I think I know what we’re doing, then.”
He watched in amazement as she set up the board, hunkered down on the chair next to him, her blond hair frizzy around her face. She had a light sweat dusting her cheeks, and under the warm light of the kitchen lamp. He realized that she’d changed since they’d last seen each other. She was wearing an oatmeal colored chunky sweater and a pair of loose jeans, borrowed from Willow. The sweater neck was a wide V, and came down on the edges of her shoulders, showing her delicate collarbones and creamy white skin. He marveled at her birthmarks, which truly did go all the way to her heart. Striking crimson, set against porcelain, giving her a snow-white-esque aura.
Just as she’d handed him a stack of fake, multicolored
