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.

hurry. The Grand Sage is

sort of high-falutin' to-do in the gnome community. They don't explain a lot, but it's what I've gathered over

I'm not allowed to

a real title, but it's definitely what she

"Mistress Keeper, I don't—"

your face," she hisses. "This isn't the time for

terror has no qualms about doling out pain to keep me in line. So I follow her silently through the dark

a map for hours on end, I the layout

dragged through the halls in the middle of the night

beneath my feet, and I stumble, my heart leaping into my throat. Elverly's iron grip closes

her gravelly voice

a run, my longer legs having to put in a surprising amount of effort to keep pace with her

kind that chill your blood

War.

thought she meant some sort of far-off conflict, a theoretical threat that brought changes

Not a war here.

Not a war now.

careen down a flight of stairs. The basement. We're heading to the basement, where the Grand

word, he ushers us toward what he calls the "safe room." The door swings open, revealing a space crammed with gadgets and gizmos I

he urges, his usual calm

room comes alive, whirring and clicking. Panels shift, mechanisms engage, and the

I can barely sit. Standing is out of the question,

tiny space, sharing the mingled scents of oil, metal, and fear. I struggle to control my breathing, trying not

since my escape. I don't like

whisper, unable to keep silent

has come to our doorstep, child. Those unhappy with their

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