Page 73 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

“He has a needle hidden in the case of his phone,” Killian continues, voice low. “It’s copper, not gold, but it’s well worn.”

Chloe nods as minutely as she can.

“The one on the right has a knife in her pocket, a real one,” he says. “It’s been bespelled to be not found by law enforcement.”

Chloe taps on her phone.

USEFUL INFORMATION.

“Is the gun in your bag?”

YES.

“Good.” He settles back, just a bit, deeper into the chair, as she flags down the waitress and requests the bill and a take-out box, avoiding looking over at the couple.

They need to wait until their information gets there, they need to make sure they have a map of the base, a way to what they need, they can’t just blow up the diner and then charge into the base, as much as she may want.

Even out of the corner of her eyes, she can tell the woman leaning over to the man, whispering something in his ear, their faces still turned towards her. It’s the worst sort of foreboding, that she is the topic of conversation, but she can’t tell how it’s progressing.

Killian pushes himself to stand, and Chloe squashes down a startle.

“Stay here,” he commands, and she shivers at his tone, before he strides in their direction, and she has to continue to look at her phone to not acknowledge what he’s doing.

She tilts the surface of her phone until it reflects the room as a whole, stretched out and imprecise, and she can’t see Killian in it at all. Can’t see his movement, can’t see how close he’s getting to the couple, just see the tilt in their bodies, the direction they’re glancing.

They’re still looking over at her. The man has dark hair closely cropped to his head, and the woman’s eye makeup almost hides the shape, leaving them still completely unknowable.

So she lays her phone flat on the table instead, concentrating on breathing normally. The burger is dry in her mouth, fully unpalatable now, and even the water can’t shock herself into feeling better.

“Here you go, hun!” the waitress says, a bit loud, plopping the Styrofoam box onto the table with a clatter, and Chloe jumps. “Pity you have to leave so soon, we have a killer brownie a la mode.”

“Thanks,” Chloe says weakly, and thankfully she pre-transformed some money, so she puts down a fifty on the bill.

Across the room, she hears the man scoff. Like he could tell.

Dread grows, as she methodically puts the burger into the to-go box, her hands very carefully not shaking. If she gets captured here, if she goes back into the prison, how could she go out? Is this base even equipped to hold humans? Would they just ship her to Atlanta? How—

Killian strides back into view. “You need to leave,” he says, fast, and Chloe stands, clutching the box to her. “They know something’s up, they know something’s off, we need to get you back to the room.”

She yanks up her backpack, and he’s practically blocking her from leaving the table, but she pushes past him, her hair falling free from the haphazard bun, shrugging on her coat as she walks and not letting her eyes turn back.

The previously tiny diner stretches on forever, her footsteps paced on the linoleum tile, and all time slows down as she tries to hold her breath even, holding her shoulders like nothing’s wrong.

It’s not helped by Killian a half step behind her, heat radiating off of him like rage. Rage at her, rage at them, she can’t know.

She can’t know, she can’t know anything, and to even let on that she might think something is wrong might doom her back into their prisons. Might doom her from ever finding her friend, from ever being free, from ever getting back—

Her hands hit the glass door, pushing it open into the chilled air, and her fingertips tremble with the control of not slamming it out of her way, letting it close normally behind her.

She catches a bare glimpse of the couple, still watching her, as she begins to stride away, before she turns the corner into the little alley way, gulping in air.

Killian immediately rounds on her.

“Don’t stop here, you need to get back to the protections, you get back and they can’t get to you,” he says.

“I’m…” Chloe manages out, then has to take another big mouthful of cold, dry air. “Give me a second, I’m…”

He scowls down at her as she sags against the brick wall.

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