Divine Rivals (Letters of Enchantment, #1)(104)

“Kitt!” she shouted.

She was standing in a sea of olive uniforms, a sea of splattered blood and coughs and boots squeaking on the stones. A few of the soldiers now wore gas masks, their entire faces concealed as they rushed back toward the deadly streets. She had a moment of icy fear that she would be trampled if she was misfortunate enough to fall.

There was a flicker of red at the corner of her eye.

Iris turned toward it just in time to see Marisol and Attie weaving through the crowd. They hadn’t seen her; they were moving away from her position toward the east side of town, and she knew they were heading to the lorry.

The relief softened her, to know they were all right. But then her dread returned, sharp enough to slice her lungs. She had to find Roman. She couldn’t leave without him, and she began to push her way through the throng, shouting his name until her voice was hoarse.

She needed to stand on one of the barricades. He would never see her like this, adrift in the crowd.

Iris began to work her way to one of the structures, shuddering when she finally broke away from the chaos. She took a moment to lean on her knees, to take deep breaths.

A firm hand grasped her arm, so hard that she knew she would be bruised by tomorrow.

She yelped and turned, frightened when she saw it was a masked individual. Their face was entirely concealed by a gas mask made of fabric, two round amber lenses, and a cylindrical gear for breathing clean air. She couldn’t see their face, but she could hear them inhaling, exhaling. They also wore a helmet, which hid their hair, and her eyes traveled down, taking in the jumpsuit they wore.

“Kitt! Oh my gods, Kitt!” Iris fiercely embraced him.

His hold on her arm loosened, but only for a moment. He stiffly created some space between them, and she frowned, confused, until he said, “Put this on.”

His voice was distorted from the mask, and it made her flinch. He sounded robotic, as if he were made of metal pieces and winding gears. But she saw that he had found a mask for her and she slid its leather thongs over her head.

It was like being in a bubble. The mask affected her every sense, and the world turned to shades of amber, slightly blurred. At first it was beautiful, but then Iris felt her panic rising. She felt like she was about to suffocate.

She clawed at the edges of the mask. Roman reached for her, turning the cylinder that rested near her chin. Cool air began to flow.

“Take a deep breath,” he said.

She nodded, sweat trickling down her back. She breathed and calmed the tide of her panic. She could keep it at bay, because she had him now. They would be safe.

“Kitt,” she said, wondering how her voice sounded to him. If it sounded like she was composed of sharp edges and cold steel. “Kitt, we—”

He took her hand. His grip was tight again, almost punishingly so, as his fingers wove with hers. I want your hand to be in mine, no matter what comes.

“We need to go,” he said, but she had the sense that he wasn’t looking at her but at something beyond her. Perhaps he saw Keegan, giving them the sign to flee. As Iris began to turn to see for herself, Roman tugged on her arm. “Come with me. We’ll be faster if you don’t look behind.”

He dragged her around the barricade, into the shadows of a quiet side street. She felt dizzy, but she focused on her breathing and followed him. Her hearing was not as keen in the mask, but she could hear her boots pounding on the street and a distant shout.

Roman paused at the intersection. She thought he was catching his breath until he glanced behind again and hurried to pull her onward, into a street that was swarming with gas. Iris winced as she followed him into the cloud, waiting to feel its sting in her lungs and her eyes. But the mask shielded her, filtering the air, and they emerged on the other side of High Street.

Roman hesitated again, as if he were lost.

Iris finally gained her bearings. They were far from the lorry, and she felt a cold prickling at the nape of her neck. Something didn’t feel quite right.

“Kitt? We need to go east. Attie and Marisol are waiting for us. Here, this way.”

She began to guide him in the correct direction, but he jerked her back to his side. “I’ll lead us, Iris. This way is faster.”

He hauled her onward before she could protest. She tripped over her boots, trying to keep pace with him. He must be scared, but it still struck her as odd. He wasn’t acting normal. She tried to study him as they ran, but the mask softened everything, and it hurt her eyes to strain them.

“Where did you get the masks?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we be using them to help those trapped in the gas?”

He didn’t answer. He only progressed to a faster run.

She finally realized it when they reached the edge of town. Her mind sharpened as they ran into the golden field. Roman was no longer limping. He was running as he had before his injuries.

She couldn’t catch her breath as she watched him sprint, cutting through the sweep of the grass. Powerful and strong, dragging her in his wake. The wind began to blow at their backs, as if pushing them onward.

“Kitt … Kitt, wait. I need to stop.” She pulled on his hand, which continued to hold hers like a vise.

“It’s not safe yet, Iris. We have to keep moving,” he insisted, but he eased to a jog.

They were almost to the place where they had once collided. Where Iris had covered his body with hers, desperate to keep him alive.