I Am No Prey

4-Myths and Dragons Incarnate

A day later, I stood in front of the old mirror hanging on my bedroom wall that had a crack on the top, and it always made my face look weird. But I managed to check my outfit for any disgusting stains before heading out, at least. Except now, I desperately wished for a stain to appear on my clothes so I could wear something else.

I was going to Italy today, dressed in a tight, black, plain dress with a silver zip in the back and equally black, also including heels that made me look even taller.

The dress ended right past my knees, hugging every curve and leaving nothing to the imagination. I looked at it repulsively with an offensive frown- I simply hated it. I just hated it.

I would've probably worn this dress when I was in the mood of making rash, bad decisions and wanted to tempt someone I had a crush on. But to a Drakhenae country under the guise of a friendly, totally-not-stealing-from-you meeting? No way.

I pulled back my red hair in a bun, makeup that covered my freckles, and thick mascara made my already big eyes seem even bulging. I missed my freckles and long hair tumbling past my shoulders. Right then, I resembled those spoiled businesswomen and politicians, which I totally regretted.

I sighed. I attempted to change my clothes, but my stepmother wouldn't have any of those and insisted that I keep up my appearance.

If I dressed in jeans and a sweater, I would attract too much attention. But then again, I was pretty sure I'd attract more attention in a dress sticking to my body this tight. Well, I might as well get this over cause whatever the reasoning, there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

I pulled my suitcase down from the bed, already packed with everything I'd need to pull this off, and headed out, wobbling in the heels.

At least she wasn't making someone chaperone me to the airport, and I could drive there in my rusty, old car that always smelled of vanilla and bacon. A weird combination, but it was intimately familiar and comforting.

At the airport, my stepmother and Brandon were already waiting. Another downside to the whole thing – Brandon was coming along since he was the ambassador.

"You're late."

"Good day to you too, Elizabeth." I knew she hated it whenever I called her by her first name, which adjacently made me pleased.

Except for that time, she didn't reply and stalked off to her car, contented that I didn't decide to ghost her. Another downside to the dress – Brandon kept a prolonged gaze towards me. I stifled a groan and went inside, cursing the heels under my breath the entire time.

For us, there was no security check except only the baggage drop-off, after which it was straight to the private government plane. Inside, Brandon grabbed my arm and kept me from taking a seat in the way back of the small plane, far away from him.

"Your mom just wanted me to give this to you, in case things go south."

He pulled out a small gun and handed it to me. Immediately, I knew it was powered with the deadly biofuel they cooked up in the labs and not bullets. One single shot would get a person paralyzed instantly, given two and they would be dead. Well, this was a sign that she didn't want me dead anyhow. Good to know.

"Cerise-"

"Please don't," I sighed.

I knew that if he gave me a reason, any convincing reason, I would probably pull him down with me on the first-class seats and kiss him for the rest of the plane ride. Just like that, anything would be acceptable to forget the bitter truth that if I didn't do this heist right, I was never coming back.