I knew Ovailia would be mad. Even if I tried to alert her to what had happened, she wouldn’t be able to hear. It didn’t matter. It was only a matter of time before they saw me, before they saw the man in the cloak in person.
It was sooner than I had planned for Joclyn’s nightmares to come true, but it would have to do. I had been preparing for this for far too long to let the perfect opportunity go to waste.
It would appear I had another game to play.
You need to keep moving.
I fought the irritation at her oh-so-obvious statement, hating how right she was.
Novy ?idovsky h?bitov. The old Jewish cemetery. Perfect.
He would follow me there, but I knew it well enough that he would never catch me. See me, yes, but not reach me. Besides, what was more haunting than an apparition amongst tombstones?
Moving through the stutter, I kept my eyes wide, ready to begin running the second I reappeared in the old graveyard. The lines of past and present moved through the darkness I traveled in, the colors bright against my vision before they left me staring at the red world again.
Darting through the old, broken tombstones, my heart thundered in eager anticipation, shoulders tense, everything in me trained on the silence, waiting for the faint pop of magic to signal the chase had begun.
As I ducked behind a large mausoleum, the same pop boomed in my ears. Then there was a low grunt of pressure as someone fell to the ground.
Wonderful.
They were here.
Now I needed them to see me, to see the cloak, to have Joclyn feel my magic. It was something that should be concerning since she was my daughter and should know the signal of my magic. But she didn’t know me.
Even with my magic fully charged and broadcasting, she would never know it was me. Even as her father, she would have no idea. She had never felt the full magic of the Drak before.
No one had. I was the only one who possessed it, after all.
But soon, everyone would feel it. Everyone would know what Draks were fully capable of.
Darting from behind the large, cement building, I ran between two smaller tombstones, attempting to give them the best possible shot of me, trying not to laugh as the gasp of fear and surprise hit my ears. I was grateful for the large headstone in front me, the massive thing perfectly placed to dodge the single stream of violent magic fired my way.
Swearing loudly, I plastered myself to the back of the massive pillar, gasping for air as my heart raced. I hadn’t counted on that. They were closer, more aggressive than I had thought.
I needed to be more careful.
It was a shame, really, that I could not control her magic right then, that I was not able to trigger another broken sight within her mind. It would be enough to send her reeling. However, my magic was too focused on the task at hand. Besides, connecting to her now, letting her feel my magic from a different side could be dangerous.
The soft crunch of dying grass bounced off the forest of stones, their steps slow as they approached me. The heavy pulse of my heart seemed comical against the snails they were.
I didn’t dare move out from behind the monument, certain they would hear my heart race if they got much closer.
Too bad I didn’t have a choice.
Last one.
It was all she needed to say. The last jumping point was always the same. It had to be in order to intersect with the underground pool of magic that gave me enough power to pull through the barrier.
Sucking in a breath, I steeled myself against what was coming, knowing I didn’t have much choice. I couldn’t throw up a shield if I wanted to have enough power to make it through the barrier. I had one shot, so I had better make it good.
Running out from behind the old headstone, I darted between a garden of ancient statues as stream after stream of debilitating attacks were sent my way. Then, disappearing with a snap, the stutter pulled me into the long, endless street of old town, the high buildings surrounding me on all sides.
I had run down this street a million times before, run to the same intersection, burst through the barrier unscathed. For the first time, however, I was scared.
They were close, and they had already shown they weren’t afraid to stop me. Here, there was no cover, no alley, nothing more than a straight runway until my next stutter when I would exit the tepid confines of the dome.
The vulnerability of it made me a sitting duck.
At a dead run, I moved, everything tense and fearful as I tried to focus. The dread increased tenfold at the sight of the long, blond mane of a man who landed right before me. It was all I could do not to scream.
I could see his tall frame, the anger and hatred gleaming in his eyes, waiting to attack, his hair fanning around his powerful build. He looked right at me, but I knew he couldn’t see me, not with the hood shadowing my face, not with the darkness and shadow that surrounded us.