Metal groaned and buckled before the platform collapsed into a cacophony of crashing and screams. In that instant, everything changed. The event had art, bands, plenty to eat and drink, and an atmosphere of a bohemian paradise. Then there was chaos and blood and broken bodies.
Maya had lost track of how many official looking people she described her recollection of events to. Natasha had pushed her away from the platform when they realized it was coming down. Some of the others were not so lucky. Raphael was killed instantly. Morgan hung on for another hour before she finally crashed, and the paramedics and trauma staff still worked her for an hour hoping to prove death wrong. Erik was missing, although Maya wondered if he’d not left in a huff, given his reaction when he was told Tyrus might make an appearance at Raphael’s behest.
She was in a daze, knowing two people she was acquainted with were dead, but not sure who else might be injured or worse. Questions kept being asked to the point she began to wonder if her recollections were correct. There was the tug in her belly and the lump in her throat, but, no matter how hard she tried, the tears would not come. A cigarette and a drink-a lot of drinks-held both appeal disgust to her.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Malak standing by a bench. Another familiar face, although she didn’t remembered seeing him at earlier. It occurred to her he may have been working. Slowly, with unsteady feet, she made her was toward him. If he saw her, he made no indication, his dark eyes moist as he was trying restrain tears, and staring into space.
Seated on the bench was Natasha, sobbing uncontrollably. Her head rested on Tyrus’s broad shoulder. Maya realized Malak probably was off getting Tryrus when this all happened. She came around to face him, noticing his face was buried in his hands. Other than that, he was completely still. It was questionable as to whether or not he was even breathing. Popping out from the left collar of his leather jacket was the head of one of his monitor lizards, although she couldn’t tell which one it was. Slowly, Maya placed a hand on his knee and leaned forward.
He snapped up with a ferocity that got her to jump back. Crawling out from under his jacket folds on the right side was the other lizard, its tongue flicking out in an almost defensive manner. Maya swallowed hard as she looked up into his intense green eyes. What she saw frightened her. For once, he seemed to be showing emotion; a mix of utter devastation and slowly boiling rage.
“There is an old story about twin dragons. Black and white. Love and hate.” Tyrus whispered into the empty air around him. Absently, he stroked the chin of the lizard peeking out of his collar. “My dragons are hungry.”