Chapter 26 - Lucian

An uneasy sensation prickled at the back of her neck. An unsettling, creeping awareness that she was being watched. 

She glanced over her shoulder and her breath caught. 

A man in a dark jacket leaned casually against a lamppost, his face partially obscured by a baseball cap. He looked away when her eyes met his.

Ayra’s stomach churned. 

She tried to tell herself it was paranoia. A side effect of the stress and the high stakes. It didn't work. 

As she turned another corner, she noticed someone else. Another man, this one in a hoodie, lingering by a newsstand. 

His gaze followed her for just a moment too long before he pretended to look at a newspaper.

Her heart began to race. She quickened her pace, the heels of her boots clicking sharply against the pavement. 

Her legs carried her toward the parking lot almost on autopilot and as she neared her car, her instincts screamed at her to stop and look. 

Four men stood by the entrance to the lot, their postures too casual, their eyes too alert. 

Dark jackets, boots scuffed just enough to look unremarkable - they were professionals trying too hard to blend in.

Ayra knew the type. Her father had sent security men to trail her in secret far too many times. 

Her pulse quickened as one of them stepped forward to block her path. He was tall, with sharp features and a smile that was unsettlingly polite.

“Miss Ayra,” he called out, his tone calm and friendly. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“And who are you?” she asked, beginning to retreat. 

He didn’t answer right away, tilting his head slightly as though studying her. “Your aunt Eleanor sent us. She’s worried sick about you. 

Said you’d... acted out of sorts. She’s very worried about you and wants to make sure you’re safe.”

Hearing an unexpected name, Ayra had an uneasy premonition immediately. 

If Eleanor really cared about her, she wouldn't have set people on her like this. She would help her leave the city instead. Somehow. 

Her logic didn't fully make sense but she was almost sure aunt Eleanor was not on her side. Perhaps not on her father's side either, but most certainly not on Ayra's. 

Ayra’s stomach twisted. “I’m fine,” she said firmly. “You can go tell her I don’t need her help.”

The man’s smile faltered, replaced by something harder, colder. “I’m afraid it’s not up to you.”

The glint of a gun tucked under one of the men’s jacket caught her eye, and dread settled over her like a heavy cloak as she came to a chilling realization. They weren’t here to talk.

“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he said. “We’re not here to hurt you, but we will if you force our hand.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the situation crashing down on her. These men were prepared to drag her back to Eleanor by any means necessary.

This further solidified her suspicion that Eleanor had her own plans. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Ayra said, her voice shaking.

Her hands were balled into fists, her mind racing. She scanned her surroundings for an escape route. 

The parking lot stretched behind her. It was too open. The sidewalk ahead was crowded but chaotic enough to offer cover.

The man sighed, as if disappointed. “I was hoping you’d be reasonable.” He nodded to his companions.

When one of the men reached for her arm, Ayra acted on pure instinct. She yanked her arm back and bolted, her boots slapping against the pavement.

She heard the clamor of the men behind her but didn’t look back.

She weaved through the crowded street, shoving past startled pedestrians, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

The city blurred around her - the blaring horns of traffic, the confused faces of passersby, the pounding of her own heart.

“Stop her!” she heard one of the men shout, his voice cutting through the chaos.

She darted down the nearest alley, her mind scrambling desperately for a plan. She couldn’t go back to the car since it was certain to be compromised.

Her only hope was to lose them in the labyrinth of streets and alleys it seemed.

Footsteps thundered behind her, growing louder with each passing second. She took a corner sharply, nearly slipping on the wet pavement, and found herself in a crowded marketplace.

The marketplace was a sea of people, stalls crammed with goods, and the mingling scents of street food and fresh produce. 

Thanking her stars, Ayra dove into the throng, grabbing a shawl from a nearby stall and draping it over her head. 

She wrapped it around her head, hoping it would disguise her enough to buy her SOME amount of time at least. 

The vendor yelled something, but she didn’t stop. 

She moved as quickly as she could manage, weaving between stalls and keeping her head low. But the men were relentless. 

She caught glimpses of them through the gaps in the crowd, their eyes scanning the market with predatory focus.

They were used to this. It wasn't their first rodeo. 

For a minute she lost sight of them in the dense crowd and she strained her eyes and ears both, in a bid to make out their location

Then, suddenly a shout rang out behind her, followed by hurried footsteps.They were close.

Too close in fact. 

Panic clawed at her throat as she turned a corner, nearly colliding with a cart stacked high with fruit. 

She didn't bother with an apology and ran onwards, slipping between a food stall and a tarp-covered table. 

The scents of roasted meat and spices mingled with the metallic tang of fear in her mouth.

Soon she burst out of the dense crowd and thanked her stars for the second time in as many minutes. 

At the edge of the marketplace, was a fire escape ladder leading up the side of a building.

Without thinking, she grabbed it and started to climb, her hands trembling as she pulled herself upward.

There was a loud report followed by screams, and Ayra clearly saw a bullet ping off the metal ladder. 

The men were not afraid to hurt her. 

She cursed and hastened her climbing.