Page 80 of Even Robots Die
I’m cold and now I’m getting even colder.
But it’s also all I need to regain some small piece of consciousness.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Daniel begs in my ear as I feel him tug me against him to carry me into Notre Dame.
The light dims again and I feel my teeth chattering against each other as my jaw can’t stop clicking with the shivers wracking my body.
I don’t have long left.
I feel it.
I’m barely there anymore.
I only have two regrets. One is not being able to say goodbye to my sisters, and the other is not having saved Brice before I went.
And on that last thought, my mind completely blacks out.
45
Brice
Rage.
That’s all I currently feel.
No, that’s not true. I feel desperation and helplessness too.
I let her go.
I let her go and even sending Charles with Daniel did nothing. I should have known that only a dragon could keep up with a jet when it comes to speed.
Charles followed the jet in his shifted form, but he got distanced quite fast, and when he finally arrived at the address I entered in the jet coordinates, they weren’t there anymore.
There was blood everywhere.
A bird was dead, but the blood wasn’t from him and the pictures Charles sent me froze my blood.
I’d love to say that I've been pacing ever since I learned the news, waiting for any update, but no.
No, I didn’t wait a single second, and I was airborne.
Going where? I don’t know.
Do I think it’s stupid? Yes.
Do I care? Absolutely not.
I’m half-shifted on my way to Paris and I know what those birds did to my brain is going to kick in any minute now, but I don’t care.
I need to know if Florentine is alright.
I need to know that she escaped the scene unscathed, and that she is alive.
To hell if my brain forces me to fight my best friend as long as she lives.
Fuck.
When did I start thinking like this?
