Page 42 of Amethyst and Iron
And I hadn’t.
After I’d left and hightailed it to the outer rims of Wraeven Academy right by Graverun where I’d parked my bike, a sudden overwhelming hunger had consumed me.
It had taken me a little while to realize it was because all of Cassius’ blood I’d ingested had been neutralized—the magical and energizing effect of it—by the remainder of Ryker’s power in my system.
I’d had to sneak into Graverun and down five blood bags that were kept in the big fridge there in one of the backrooms.
I felt a lot better now. And it also meant he wouldn’t be able to track me through his own magical signature, which I was sure would be one of his go-to methods once he woke up. I wasn’t worried about Ketheron scent-tracking me because he was on lockdown too.
But it didn’t mean I had a lot of time. I could still be found. The people I’d surrounded myself with were supremely powerful beings and many of them were also talented at finding workarounds to complex problems.
So, as I caught sight of a diner up ahead and my stomach growled for something more than blood—like meatloaf, bacon, a beef sandwich, anything—I ignored the urge.
Five miles later when the diner came into view past the trees that had been blocking my full visual of it on the left side of theroad, I saw it was closed anyway. Not a twenty-four-hour diner then.
Sudden movement on the dark road had a shot of adrenaline shooting down my spine.
What the—
It was gone in a blink.
An animal?
My headlights tricking evenmyeyes?
The weight of everything fucking with my mind?
The strain of trying to shove down the trauma of Velra and Sylas both fucking dying compromising my judgment?
But then it happened again.
A fraction of a second later, a figure stood in the road.
Another fraction later, it wasrightin front of me.
Him.
Victor Halrow.
It was too late.
Too close.
I couldn’t stop it.
Couldn’t veer away.
Couldn’t even leap off the saddle with a burst of speed.
I slammed into him, my bike shattering against his body, the fucker just standing there not hurt or even moved an inch by it, as the fuel tank crumpled, and the brutal fucking impact ripped me off the bike.
I was propelled through the air, landing in the lot of that diner on the asphalt, choking as bones cracked, pain lanced through me, and I coughed up blood as it punctured a lung in the process, the nasty wheezing making that clear all too quickly.
Blood oozed into my eyes and I struggled to blink it away.
I tried to turn, cursing when I braced myself on my right hand, only for a shooting pain to make it clear my wrist was shattered.
For now.
