Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 267

Chapter 267 Lisa: Waking to War

A tiny hand shakes me awake with incongruous force, something I'd attribute to King Kong and not the gnomes who've been sheltering me and teaching me about magitech since my escape.

Groaning, I pull my blanket over my head. I'm too tired. "Go away."

"Wake, wake, lazy girl! The war has come!"

The wizened old housekeeper—it has to be her, because no one else treats me like an unruly pig—yanks my covers off and slaps at my legs. "Hurry up, or die here alone!"

War?

Die?

My brain isn't functioning yet, but I stumble out of bed as she throws some clothes at me. "Dress! Hurry! Boots too!" Those are tossed at my feet, bruising my pinky toe in a way that has me hissing and hopping on one foot. "No time, you lazy girl! Get moving!"

Uncertain of what's going on but recognizing that her anxiety level is sky high, I throw on a clean shirt and jeans that they must have sourced from humans. Too bad they didn't bring a bra, too.

But at least there's socks.

Shoving my feet into them, the gnarled woman shoves at me until I fall onto my ass on the bed. "Put this on," she snaps, throwing a coat at me.

"Okay, okay. Hold on. You haven't even explained what's happening!"

"War!" she snaps. "Hurry!"

Despite her gruff demeanor, she kneels to shove my boots on as I shrug on the coat, two sizes too big and—I double check what I'm feeling strapped in some hidden pockets—armed. With knives.

In fact, they seem to fit the term dagger more than knife.

go. Hurry, hurry. The Grand Sage is

old man who's taken me under his wing and owns this place. He's some sort of high-falutin' to-do in the gnome community. They don't explain a

not

don't think that's a real title, but it's definitely

"Mistress Keeper, I don't—"

she hisses. "This isn't the time for questions. Let's

the questions bubbling up inside me. Even I'm not brave—or stupid—enough to challenge Elverly. That tiny terror has no qualms about doling out pain to keep me

a map for hours

comfort at the moment, as I'm dragged through

the entire structure. The floor bucks beneath my feet, and I stumble, my heart leaping

barks, her gravelly voice

to put in a surprising amount of

are shouts and screams, the kind that chill your blood and raise the hairs on the back of

War.

new meaning. I'd thought she meant some sort of far-off conflict, a theoretical threat that brought changes

Not a war here.

Not a war now.

reality of our situation slams into me as we careen down a flight of stairs.

room. Without a word, he ushers us toward what he calls the "safe room." The door swings open,

calm

and he locks the door behind us. The room comes alive, whirring and clicking. Panels shift, mechanisms engage, and the space around

out of the question, and

and heavy as we all breathe into this tiny space, sharing the mingled scents of oil, metal, and fear. I struggle to control my breathing, trying not to give in to the claustrophobia clawing at the edges of

a new thing, ever since my escape. I don't like being

unable to keep

has come to our doorstep, child.

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