Page 62 of Cryptic Dreams
I see nothing though, no obvious danger or threat to my mate. There are very few others around at all actually and the more I search, the more unease I feel. The couples from earlier are the only ones I see and both are stationed at strange points along the street where the shops are closed. And while they seem to be preoccupied with themselves, it is the false energy emanating from them that has me on edge.
“To know what?”
I feel Zephyr tilt her head back to look up at me, so I quickly meet her eyes and force a smile. “Another time, love. Perhaps we can continue this on the ride home, but it seems we’ve passed the shop I wanted to take you to.”
Movement on the roof of a building about three miles away draws my attention, quick movement that belongs to one of our kind. That unease sitting in my gut like a stone grows heavier and the second I hear the unmistakable sound of the hammer of a gun click into place somewhere in the distance, I all but crush Zephyr’s hand and begin to run.
“Wraith?” She gasps. “Wraith, what—“
“Run,” I growl, my grip on her hand tightening as I barely refrain from dragging her behind me.
To my relief, Zephyr does as I ask without further question and soon her long legs match my pace as we quickly cut through the back alleys in the direction of our car for the night.
The need to protect her, to keep my mate safe, is almost suffocating, and though I could lose our most unwelcome company by ducking into another shop, I do not stop, do not slow down. I keep us moving as quickly as possible, wishing momentarily we had already mated so that I may dematerialize the both of us to the safety of my home, but it is a fleeting thought, one replaced by a determination to do so regardless of how it happens, and the need to make sure whatever threat that has presented is eliminated immediately.
We weave in and out of alleyways, periodically change course in a feeble attempt to throw off our would-be assailants, but I can tell there are many. At least four males in addition to the couples now follow us; on top of buildings and in between shops, males most likely enlisted by my father’s right hand to follow us and confirm what he already knew to be true.
Zephyr and I have not yet mated and now they will do anything in their power to prevent that from happening, thus proving my father believes me to not only be the one to have orchestrated the events that took place at the nest those weeks ago, but that he also most likely believes me to be involved with the Purists and a severe threat to his reign.
It was only a matter of time really, and while I’m less than thrilled that he so openly had my mate and I attacked, it shows he does not have enough proof to do anything other than put out a hit on my life as well as that of my gentle breeze. If Atticus had solid evidence linking me to those events or my involvement with the Purists he would merely have us arrested and tried in order to make an example of us. One that would ultimately lead to execution, but if he could, he would do it for all the world to see in order to show that it does not matter who you are, if you defy the Great Counsel, you will be punished.
“Wraith,” Zephyr pants beside me as our car comes into view. “Wraith, tell me what’s going on.”
“I shall explain as soon as I am able, but for now, I need you to trust me, love.”
“I do. I do trust you, I just want… oh my god.”
Indeed.
Our driver—one of the members of my group—Jonah, is laid out on the ground next to the Rolls Royce, his throat torn out, a silver coated spike through his heart, and a look of horror permanently twisted on his once handsome face.
A pretty fucking clear message, one that was carelessly left since his body will draw much attention, especially when the sun rises and takes care of what remains.
This is Hans’s doing, there is no doubt in my mind, but he is not here, he is not following us. Hans would not stoop to this level and sully his hands by incriminating himself directly in the assassination of the heir apparent and his mate. By the looks of it though, he has put several of his most trusted soldiers on the task and if we do not move swiftly then I will surely regret the way I have handled things with my sweet mate more than I already do.
“Wraith, honey, talk to me, please.”
Refusing to let go of her hand until we are inside the car, I nod toward Jonah’s body. “Get the keys, love. Quickly now.”
Again Zephyr follows my instruction and unlocks the car. “I trust you,” she says as she quickly opens the passenger door. “I do, but your anxiety and anger are so strong, so intense, that it’s starting to make me panicky.”
I check our surroundings as I carelessly toss the bags into the backseat, listening to pinpoint our assailants location as they gain on us, then grip Zephyr by the shoulders and duck my head slightly to meet her eyes. “I am sorry, my love. I fear this is entirely my fault and as soon as I have you to safety, I will explain, but right now,youare my priority.”
She searches my eyes, lifts her hands to my wrists and squeezes. “I want every last detail.”
“As you wish.” I can’t help but smile a little at that. It seems my darling mate is coming out of her shell more and more, because, while I feel her panic, I also feel her trust as well as a strength and determination that speaks volumes about who she truly is. “I swear it, I will give you every morbid detail and then some, but please get in the car so that—”
I hear the trigger seconds before a bullet rips through the air, and out of reflex, I cover Zephyr’s body with my own, angle her away from the trajectory and shove her against the hood mili-seconds before the distinctly silver coated .44 mm explodes through the passenger window.
“Shit.” Zephyr blinks up at me, her chest heaving. “Was that—”
“Yes, love, and there will be more.” In the blink of an eye I have her in the passenger seat, head down, body shielded by the door as I slam it then slide over the hood to get in behind the wheel. “Stay down!” I bark as I start the Rolls and I tear through the lot like a bat out of hell.
Atticus shall pay for this.
That bastard will paydearlyfor threatening my mate, his corrupt government and disgusting ways aside because that male just made this fucking personal. Atticus of Carmarthen just signed his own bloody death warrant and mark my words, I shall be playing executioner.
“They’re following us.”
