How to Lose Your Dragon (The Immortality Curse Book 1) by Peter Glenn (beach read TXT) 📕

for the next crossing. It was starting to get more crowded now with more pedestrians milling about, which had kinda been my goal, although the crowds thinned out pretty quick for a bleeding guy with two swords towing another guy with a briefcase. People were weird like that.

The light ahead was red, but a crowd was starting to form up behind me, so I took my chances and waited. When running from the cops, I’d learned it was actually best to make it look like that wasn’t what you were doing.

Rick pulled on my sleeve a bit, but I shushed him and stood my ground.

Behind me, I heard the scuffle of heavy boots on pavement as the police came around the corner, tasers in hand. They pointed them right at Homeless Guy, who folded like a metal chair, pointing right at us.

Seriously, what has the world come to when you can’t even trust the homeless?

Still, I might have done the same in that position.

I gave Rick’s arm a rough shove and bolted out into the street. The light hadn’t changed just yet, but it was almost there, so I hoped we’d just look like eager civilians.

It was no use. The cops came after us regardless, shouting and yelling for the crowds to get out of the way.

The two of us sped down the street as fast as our legs could carry us. I ran almost diagonal through the intersection to get to the other side without having to wait for another light or make another commotion. With a few more giant leaps, we made it into the next alley.

Almost there. It was one more street over now.

We made it through this alley and out the other side with no further issues, then I went down the street until we reached the sign that said 4th Avenue. Here, I backtracked just a bit, launching us straight into a massive throng of people milling about, all watching some speaker off in a corner who was yelling something into a microphone on a makeshift stage.

My lips curled into a smile. We were here. We were safe for the moment.

Westlake Center. Home to virtually every protest Seattle had.

Rick yanked his hand out of my grip and glared at me. “This is your idea of safety?” he said with a scowl. He hissed and clutched his briefcase closer to him.

“Yep.” I nodded at him. “The perfect cover.”

His eyes rolled again. “The perfect cover? We’re out in the open!”

“Yes, but we’re surrounded by people.” I pointed at the people all around us, closing us in, hiding us from view from their sheer numbers. Anyone could get lost in the midst of a crowd this thick. Which meant it would be near impossible for someone like the police to find us without breaking up the crowd. And they rarely broke up peaceful protests anymore.

I spread my arms as wide as I could. “Lots of people around us. Much harder for the cops to find us in here.”

The person everyone was listening to - the one with the microphone - spouted off something about government controls and touching protocols. I wasn’t really listening, but the girl had a pleasant voice. In any other circumstance, I could have listened to her dulcet tones for hours on end, and probably would have.

Rick shook his head. “You got lucky.”

“Pfft. Luck had nothing to do with it. This is Westlake Center. There’s always some sort of protest going on here.” I flashed him a toothy grin. “See? Perfect cover. We’re just another couple of protesters, out to prove a point.”

Rick looked around him, then, and noted that there were people from all walks of life packed in around us. It was a claustrophobe’s nightmare, but it would in fact make it harder for the cops to pick us out from the crowd. I ditched my damaged jacket, too, hoping that would give them pause. Not much I could do about the swords, but I wasn’t the only one in the crowd that was armed, so there was that.

More importantly, it would give us a good chance to rest for a minute and give me a chance to catch my breath. Plus, Mei’s bar wasn’t far from here, and we’d be even safer once we got there. We just had to shake off the cops first.

Up ahead, I saw the cops spill out onto the street. They craned their necks, scanning the crowd, but neither Rick nor I were particularly tall, so we kind of blended into the crowd.

A moment or two later, the cops shook their heads and went back around the corner, out of sight.

I felt the tension leave my body, and I inhaled deeply. Rick did the same.

“See? I told you it’d work.”

Rick shot me an icy glare, but he nodded.

He sighed once more and shook his head a little. “Look, this has been nice and all, but I think I’m going to go,” he said. He started rummaging around in his jacket pocket for something. “I appreciate your offer from earlier and all, but why don’t we just call it a wash. I’ll give you back your little cloth and forget about the fee, and we can just pretend we never saw each other. I think it’s for the best.”

I peered down at his grubby hand then and saw the bit of purple cloth in it, poking out at me.

“Oh come on, Rick,” I whined. “After all we’ve been through together?”

My mind raced. I needed something. Anything. Some sort of reason to keep him around a bit longer. It was either that or knock him unconscious and drag him with me.

And my arms were already tired, so that option wasn’t preferable.

“Really, it’s for the best,” Rick repeated, practically shoving the cloth at me.

I took the scrap, and he started to turn to leave, muttering something under his breath, but I wasn’t really listening, so I didn’t catch what it was.

Another sound struck me at that moment. The worst sound