Page 63 of Blood Red Woes

“I’mthe one with an attitude?” he scoffs. “Please.”

“You’re lucky you’re a tattoo—” I ignore him when he tries to correct me again. “—because if you were easily removable, I would’ve thrown you away the moment you first opened your big, nonexistent mouth and tried telling me what to do.”

Rune growls out the words, “I saved your life.”

“And you only did it because your survival hinges on me. I’m not stupid. I know we’re not friends. You’re only helping me because you wantmeto helpyou. Just like Frederick. All men are fucking liars, body or not.”

“You… are…” Rune, for the first time ever, sounds like he’s at a loss for words. “You’re…” A good thing, probably, because I don’t know where else this argument could go if we keep it up.

Seconds go by, and when Rune speaks again, he’s calmed down, and his voice is strangely gentle when he says, “You push me to madness, Rey. A feat I never thought possible.”

I don’t know how to respond to him, so I ask, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Merely the truth.”

As I sit there, I think about apologizing to Rune—I said some pretty mean things—but the dude’s an asshole, so I don’t really want to. If anyone should apologize, it’s him. He should apologize to me and then maybe, maybe I’ll do the same to him.

No promises, though.

But Rune is as stubborn as me, so in the end, neither of us apologize to the other. All I know is, I can’t sit there anymore, not after that fight with Rune, so I scoot off the ledge and get to my feet.

I guess I should go back to the party, try to cool myself off. Stay away from Frederick too. Don’t want a repeat of what just happened.

Heaving a sigh, I follow the stone path to the market area. The drinks might be too sweet, but I think I need another. I reach the kids playing a weird form of hopscotch without chalk when something odd sweeps over me.

Something intangible, instinctual. Something that tugs at my nerves, causes my palms to clam up. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up, and my mouth gets dry on its own. It’s a feeling I’ve felt before, and now I know what it leads to.

I grab the nearest kid and say, “Find Frederick. Tell him to get everyone to run to the upper city.” They can’t leave Laconia; their only hope is it doesn’t breach the entire city. When the kid only looks at me, I let him go and shout, “Now!”

The kids all burst into action, making a beeline toward the tavern. I shout to the people crowding the tavern’s entrance, telling them to go. If they want to keep their lives, they need to go.

A shadowstorm is coming.

Chapter Twenty

The sky above my head darkens, and the wind picks up out of nowhere. The air itself tastes wrong on my tongue, and I turn away from the tavern, drawn to the lower part of the city. The slums where most of its people live. Fifteen feet away from the set of stone stairs that divide the lowest district to the marketplace, the scourge comes.

And it comes with a bang.

The air around me grows thick with black mist, and the only way I can see through it is because I light up the tattoo. I want to make sure Frederick and the others at the tavern make it, but I need to go into the heart of the storm and help those who didn’t go to the celebration at the tavern.

There are still people in the lowest district. They need my help.

Fuck. Listen to me. I sound like a goddamned hero, the one thing I never wanted to be.

I run towards the residential district, where every refugee and every poor citizen live. I don’t know how many people are down there. The tavern and the space in front of it was jam-packed with people, so I can’t say how many didn’t come, how many people are trapped inside their homes, hoping the storm doesn’t find its way in.

I don’t know how the scourge works. Can it enter homes? Can it go in if the doors and windows are open? Would they be safe if their homes were all locked up? I don’t know that it matters.

I run head-first into the shadowstorm, and immediately my mouth is drier than a desert. I hold my tattooed arm up high, and the light from its glow illuminates only three or four feet ahead. The storm is too thick and hazy; I can’t see a thing beyond that, and it makes navigating the streets a pain in the ass.

My heart beats fast as I hurry along, looking for anyone who may need my help. The storm rages in the sky, in the air, the wind whipping around me so hard it hurts my face, but I plow on.

“Well,” Rune muses, his voice still carrying some attitude after our fight, “this came out of nowhere, didn’t it?”

It did, but I don’t say it aloud. I’m mad at him. He may not have a body, but even he has to realize how much of a jerk he was to me. Granted, I wasn’t the picture of grace either, but I just… I just can’t deal with him right now. I need a break.

So I don’t say a word as I race through the streets of Laconia. Without having much in front of me, it’s hard. I nearly whack myself into the corner of a building once or twice as the shadowstorm rages around me.

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