Salvage: Book 3 of the Magic Mutations Series

34: Lukas

June, 2019

Stepping off the tube, the King's Cross underground platform was littered with humans stopping and starting in movement as they tried to shuffle their way to their destinations.

With a lack of patience—and time—I shoved past the other passengers slowly navigating their way towards the exit. Fixed on my mission, I weaved through the crowd, making my painstakingly slow ascent up the escalator to the streets. As humanly as I could make it, I jogged towards the St. Pancras International station, gaze seeking out the departures board.

The area reeked of coffee, baked goods, and a touch of bleach from the nearby cleaner mopping up a spill. Chatter, laughter, and the squeaking of luggage wheels bounced around the large, open, echoing entry area in loud bursts, making my stomach churn as I struggled to focus amongst the many distractions.

But it didn't take long to finally locate the board. As my eyes zeroed in on the black screen, I scanned its digital lettering for any train matching Serena's directions.

EUROSTAR

11:00 BRUSSELS

Platform 5

BOARDING

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath, my gaze flickering to the clock adjacent telling me I had twenty minutes left until the train departed.

At once, my legs pivoted towards the check-in desk. Without a care, I pushed past those already in the line, receiving a plethora of "Oi"s and "You right, mate"s as I barged on through.

"Sorry," I threw back at the fuming queue before facing the equally unamused check-in lady.

"Sir," she already started scold me, "You need to get to the back of the—"

But before she could even finish her lecture, I pulled the magic to my eyes, hooking her in and cutting her off. "I'm very sorry to do this," I started, as though acknowledging something I was about to force her to forget would absolve me of my sins, "But I don't have time to hear how wrong what I just did was. What I need you to do is print me a ticket for the Eurostar departing to Brussels at 11:00."

"But that one is already boarding," she replied in a monotone manner, too consumed by the spell to exhibit any semblance of emotion. "You won't make it—"

"I will be very fast at getting there if you print me a ticket right now." Now, I could have avoided this whole step and just ran past the ticket checkpoint and security, bewitching anyone on the way who tried to stop me for not having a boarding pass or ID. But there were cameras in a place like this, and the cascading ramifications of barging straight through would see many more mishaps for me to cover up later. The last thing us mutants needed was any more eyes on us, suspecting the supernatural in their midst.

"Very well, sir. Will you be travelling Standard, Premier, or Business Premier?"

"Whatever. Print me whatever. I just need to be on that train."

"Okay. Any luggage?"

"What? No. Just print the ticket." I wanted to glance at the clock to know how much time I had wasted—and how fast I would have to run after this without causing alarm to the humans or security. But breaking eye contact would break the spell, so I bided my time.

Yet even if I could convince her to comply with my directions, I couldn't make her move any faster.

Fingers starting to tap on the counter with impatience as my mind counted the seconds turning into minutes, I kept my gaze fixed on the woman as she slowly punched in my details—a necessary evil to print me a ticket apparently—with her two index fingers moving at a snail's pace across the keys.