Lucia didn't even see him coming before one of the hooded men had grabbed her arm and yanked, pulling
her away from Regan and Fletcher. She let out a strangled yelp as the man practically picked her up before turning to run with her in tow, but before he could get far he was barrelled to the ground
knocking Lucia out of his grasp and another yelp escaped her mouth as she was thrown against the stone ground of the market.
Pushing herself off the ground, Lucia looked over at the man, now on the floor being straddled by
Regan. His hands crackled and popped as flames burst off of them and he gave the man a murderous look.
“Hands off.” Venom seemed to drip off his voice as he moved his hands closer to the man's face. The
people around them backed away a bit making a small circle around them as they watched. Fletcher came up behind her and picked her up off the ground, holding her close in case anyone else tried to
grab her
“I don't like it when people touch what’s mine.” Regan continued, before he pressed his hand to the
man’s face. A bloodcurdling scream erupted from the man as his back arched and he tried to escape the grasp, but Regan only pressed down harder. Lucia flinched back but Fletcher held her in
place.
“Move and you’ll be sorry.” He hissed in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. A small crowd had
gathered around Regan and the man. They were leaning into each other, whispering together.
“Consider that your lesson.” Regan sniffed, letting go of the man. His fingertip was still smoking and
he blew it out with the ease of someone blowing out a cigarette. The man whimpered on the ground, and Lucia, despite knowing the sight would be horrifying, bent closer to see the damage inflicted
upon him. She needed to know, she needed to know if it ever happened-. She shook her head, waiving the thought away
The man was now lying in a ball, curled up on the ground. Lucia could see finger shaped red spots on
his hace. Burns, she winced at the sight, feeling her stomach churn a bit more as she noticed the beginnings of pus
filled blisters dotted his cheeks. There was a burning scent in the air, and smoke rose off the man’s face. Then, all of a sudden, a loud explosion sounded. The man was wrapped in a cloud of dark
smoke, and he writhed on the ground.
fascination as his skin burned and peeling off. The muscle and bone peeling and exposing to the world before rotting and falling away to dust, his body slowly falling into pieces as he screamed in
agony, until his throat peeled away as well and he died, leaving behind only a pile of rotting dust and cloth. Lucia felt her blood chill, What was that? The onlookers stiffened in fear murmuring amongst each other. Did they know what was happening?
“Excuse me,” Lucia asked one of the hooded people, ignoring Fletcher’s tightening hands. “What just
happened?”
The person looked at her, then shook her head “the man of nightmares got
him.”
“Wh-” Lucia started, but Fletcher’s hands tightened around her shoulders sharply and dragged her away.
As she was pulled through the crowd, leaving the morbid scene behind them
Shaking it off, she tried to regain some color in her face but her mind kept getting dragged back to
it. His screams, rotting flesh, all the people that just stood there and watched him die. She squeezed her eyes shut again briefly. Stop thinking about it. She had more important things to worry about, she still had to get away
Looking up she could see someone pushing through the crowd and towards them. They were dressed
similarly to everyone else but their clothes seemed more expensive and durable, not the rugged dusty cloth the others used to cover their faces.
“Regan! I didn't know you were here.” The person broke past the last of the people and into the circle
that had formed around them.
“Levi,” Regan gritted out, looking up at them, hands clenched in fists at his side. “I thought you'd
have something to do with this.” The man took off his hood at his name and many people in the circle shifted uneasily. They must know him, Lucia assumed. He had short brown hair and a coat with a fur trim on underneath the cloak that popped through
the collar of his cloak as she pulled down the hood.
“Well when he said she spotted the girl I didn't think she was already with you.” He countered, almost
seeming to pout at the accusation.
“Well she was.” Regan contorted, anger flaring again.
“And that's why I handled it.” A sly grin slipped onto his features as he raised one of his hands, a
grey mist floating off of it. “He was never of any use anyways.” He must be the one who killed him, she swallowed, glancing back at where they came from.
“My sincerest apologies.” He continued, bowing slightly, but Lucia doubted he meant it based on his
tone
“We don't have time for this.” Regan snapped, stepping forward and knocking his shoulder against the
mans and knocking him to the side slightly. She felt Fletcher start to push forward so she followed, keeping her head down.
Back through the marketplace she went, weaving around crowds of hooded people and dodging occasional
stands. At last they reached the edge of the marketplace, where she was gestured to get into the wagon-crate thing. Before she got shoved in, Regan handed her a leather pouch just like his own and
instructed her to put it around her neck. “If anyone asks, this is you now.” He told her gruffly, before shoving her inside.
As the wagon jolted and bounced into motion, Lucia made use of the light coming in through the cracks
between the wood boards to look at the pouch. There was nothing inside the pouch, like the credits that Regan and Fletcher had, but when she flipped it around, there was a picture of a girl on the
blue identification card in the back.
Now, maybe other people would fall for it, but Lucia herself certainly didn’t. She was convinced that
the girl, with her slightly lighter brown hair and hazel-like eyes looked nothing like dark-haired, brown-eyed Lucia. And at the bottom, in smaller print was her name. And it did not read Lucia
Lycan. It read Rose Harken, sister.
Her stomach churned uneasily at the last name, the same one they had. The thought of blood relation
made her feel sick. Regan and Fletcher climbed in as well. She pushed herself to the corner of the wagon, anything to distance herself from them. Regan eyed her icily as he sat down and she shrank
under his gaze, remembering his warnings. Luckily he didn't act on any of his threats, yet, averting his eyes to the wall across from him.
She quickly slipped the pouch over her chest and tightened it around her waist and pulled her knees
into her chest like they could help her disappear. She felt her metal locket press against her chest and she smiled into her knees as she tried to imagine where Lea was now, planting flowers?
Helping make lunch? Playing with their younger brother?
God, if only they had that twin communication that she read about in library books. Please Lea, she begged silently. Tell me you’re alright.
No answer. Not that she’d expected one anyway
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