Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes (The Dark Eyes) by M. R. Noble

Author:M. R. Noble [Noble, M. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance, Urban Fantsay, fantasy romance, romantic fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Dark Fantasy Horror, fantsay
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc
Published: 2020-12-15T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The Parade

I stepped on the dock. A fuzzy sensation overcame my body. There was magic at work. Lots of it. Going onto solid ground felt like emergency training at the station all over again. Then, as a student, the idea of a lockdown was nerve-racking. My exterior was calm, but inside I was a ticking mechanism ready to strike at sudden movement. Now, the feeling was intensified. In a few seconds we’d find out if my idea worked.

“You feel it?” I asked Andre.

Roman gasped when he stepped onto the concrete strip. I hadn’t thought about the fact he may have never experienced the sensation of magic before. I imagined shifting into a wolf would be similar, but perhaps not. “You okay?”

“What is it?” Roman asked.

“My guess would be our suspected tracking spell at work.”

Andre leaned in to hear, but he crinkled his nose. “You both reek of wolf.”

“You’re probably just smelling yourself.” I had never ‘smelled wolf,’ but it was likely a scent I was used to because I grew up with Roman. “Let’s move before we’re spotted.”

“Affirmative,” Andre said.

The plan for Sochi was to wait for Andre’s contact to approach us near the boat and guide us to our next set of wheels. The ride from Sochi to Kislovodsk was nine hours. Andre had advised Roman to speak as little as possible to the contact, to avoid having to explain our circumstance. Andre didn’t want to spook his contact into thinking Andre had been compromised by a spell.

As I skimmed the crowd, a dark-haired teenaged boy approached us. He was tall, skinny, and slouchy. His black hair hung over half his face, to complement his all black outfit. If it were night, dressing in all black may have made him blend in. On a bight sunny day which was heating up fast—his black getup turned heads.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“No, I’m not,” Andre said. “Careful, Roman, he’s skittish.”

Roman skidded forward and blurred three feet. “I got this.” He walked toward the contact and slouched down mirroring his posture. “Hey, sup?”

“What?” the kid said.

Roman straightened up and put more moodiness into his tone. “We’re ready.”

The kid shifted his weight uncomfortably. “What’s with the act? Are you on drugs?” He stepped back. “What’s with your voice?”

“Be cool.” Roman held up his hands. “Look it’s been a long ride and I’m tired. I got choked out in a fight and it messed with my voice box.” Roman leveled down to his height and looked him in the eyes. “You ready? Or not?”

He reacted to the authority in Roman’s voice. “The van is over there. But I don’t owe you anything else after this.”

“You’ve done well.” Roman clutched his shoulder.

He flushed with the clearly unexpected praise. “It was nothin’. Stealin’ the van was easy. Gettin’ it back will be the hard part.”

Roman turned and gave us the signal to follow. We tailed them to a black van parked behind a dumpster.

“Hi-yah, Tod,” Andre said.

Tod flicked his head to Roman. “You told him my name!”

“Just get driving, Tod,” Andre said.

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