Pale Demon (7 page)

Behind us were the ugly sounds of screeching tires and plastic crunching. I didn’t dare look as we sped ahead, the truck now taking up three lanes as it slowly began to topple over. The little VW had hit the wall, and I swerved into the path of the truck to avoid it. There was a huge crash, and the sound of scraping metal. I looked back to see the truck on its side, cars piling up behind it. Three cars had made it through: us, a station wagon with a white-faced woman driving it, and that gold Cadillac.
My God. What had they done?

“Go, go, go!” Jenks shrilled, plastered to the back window. “They got through! Go!”

I floored it, weaving through the cars ahead of us, most of them just now noticing the truck sliding to a stop and taking up the entire road. Brake lights were going on, and my grip on the wheel became sweaty.
How had they gotten through?
I wondered, seeing that they had lost a fender but were still moving. The VW had become small in the rearview mirror, and feeling sick, I pulled my attention back to the road ahead of us. No one does a hit on a busy road. No one. Who the hell did these people think they were? Or perhaps my question should be, who the hell did these people think
we
were that they would do such a thing?

“We need to get off this road!” Trent exclaimed as I sped past a slow-moving Jag.

“Gee, you think?” I said, seeing the Cadillac clip another car as it tried to catch up.

“Where’s the map,” Trent muttered, leaning over the backseat to find it.

Jenks looked scared, having moved to the front where he could stand on the rearview mirror and hold on to the stem for dear life. “Go right!” he shouted, and I jerked the wheel, looking back to see yet another ball of who-knew-what headed for us.

Trent yelped as the car swerved, his butt smacking into me and a raised foot hitting the wheel. “Trent!” I shouted, shoving him off. “Sit down, will you? I’m trying not to get pasted here, and your ass in my face isn’t helping!”

The orange blob hit the pavement behind us, the Jag I’d just gone around running right into it. The car flipped, and I started to get really scared. What the hell were they using to throw their magic? A grenade launcher? We were going over ninety!

Oblivious to it, Trent slid back into his seat with a huff, the map in his hand.

“Jenks, you got any ideas?” I asked as Trent buckled himself back in, and Jenks’s wings stilled even as a green dust began spilling from him.

“Maybe Trent should have married the bitch,” he warbled, and I shifted into the far-left lane to get around a bus. Sure enough, they stuck with me, and my heart pounded. I couldn’t do magic and drive at the same time! Where the hell was Pierce when I needed him? No-o-o-o, the one time I have nonunion assassins behind us, I have a
businessman
riding shotgun trying to find answers in a friggin’ map!

“That’s our exit,” Trent said, trying to look cool, but his grip on the map was too tight. “We’re sitting ducks on the expressway.”

“Oh, thank you very much for that observation, Kalamack,” I said sarcastically. “You think we should get off the road. And then what?”

“Just take South Memorial,” he said, his eyes on the map as he swayed to my swerving through traffic, earning beeps and flashing lights. “We can lose them on the surface roads more easily than on the expressway. Do what I say, and we’ll be fine.” But he was sweating. I couldn’t make a bubble—we’d drive right through it.

Jenks darted down to land on the map in Trent’s hand as we flashed past the sign. “That’s the one you want, Rachel. Right lane. Right lane!”

There was a big truck ahead of me in the far-right lane. If I slowed down to take the exit, the Cadillac would hit us. My fingers clenched and relaxed. Behind us, a new glow was starting in the car. I had to time this perfectly. “‘Do what I say, and we’ll be fine,’” I muttered through clenched teeth. “Surface streets mean we put the entire city in danger. We’re going to lose them right now.”

“Rachel…,” Trent said, his voice tinged with anger and fear. “What are you doing?”

“Getting onto Memorial,” I said, licking my lips. The engine roared as I pressed the accelerator, and my mom’s car leapt ahead. My heart pounded, and I darted around a white car on the right, then a blue on the right. Crap, this was going to be close. There was a weird prickling through me, but I daren’t look at Trent. It was wild magic, but I didn’t think it was from him. It was like the tracers that the earth sends up to the cloud before the lightning follows it down. The next hit wouldn’t miss. “Hold on!” I shouted, eyes wide.

“Rachel!” Trent shouted, the chicken strap in his hand.

“This is going to be close!” I yelled, and I jammed on the accelerator. The car bounced as we raced forward, and I yanked the wheel to the right at the last moment, skidding across all three lanes and onto the exit ramp. The semi blew its horn, but we were through and bouncing over the rough pavement, narrowly missing the cement wall.

“Ye-e-e-e-e-ha-a-a-a-a!” Jenks shrilled, and I hit the brakes hard so I wouldn’t ram the car ahead of me. My heart was thudding, and we fish-tailed. Scared, I looked to find Jenks in the back, face plastered to the window as he watched the traffic behind us. The awful prickling had stopped.
Thank you, God.
“They missed the exit!” he yelled. “They missed it! You lost them, Rache!”

I looked across the seat to Trent, white faced. From behind us came a crunch of metal, and someone’s horn got stuck. My phone started to hum.
Ivy.
Where was my phone?

“We lost them.” I breathed, then became worried. We had lost them, but what about everyone else? God, I hoped those people were okay. I was sure I’d seen a protection bubble on the bug, but at those speeds, it might not make a difference.

Ahead of us, cars were slowing for the traffic light. “It’s red, Rachel,” Jenks said, and I slammed on the brakes, adrenaline making the motion too fast. Jenks yelped, and Trent reached for the dash, glaring at me. I couldn’t believe they’d tried to take us out on the interstate! I’d been under death threats before, but there were niceties to be observed, union rules. This wasn’t them!

Silent, Trent folded up the map, tucking it away with precise motions. He looked calm, but I was starting to shake. “Nicely done,” he said and I almost lost it, my hands clenching the wheel until my knuckles were white.
Nicely done?
There were people hurt back there, and I felt a sudden surge of panic as three ambulances went by, headed for the interstate. Everyone in that VW bug was probably dead. And the truck driver. And the four cars behind him. The guy in the Jag was probably okay. Probably.

My foot started to jiggle, and when the light turned green, I crept up on the car ahead of us, pushing it into moving. I wanted out of the car, like now.

Jenks flew to the rearview mirror when Trent rolled his window all the way down to get rid of the scent of cinnamon and wine, and something in me eased as I turned right onto Memorial. He was shaken and trying not to show it. More sirens wailed, and Jenks landed on the steering wheel, giving me a worried look as a fire truck went by, headed for the on-ramp. People were hurt. Because of me? Trent? Did it matter?

“We’re going to stop, right?” Trent asked, his eyes on Riverside Park as we passed it.

“Why? Think you’ll get a better view of the accidents from up on top of the arch?” I asked sarcastically. This was way more than I’d expected when I agreed to escort him to the coast, and I was long past wishing I’d told him to shove his little problem and taken my chances by myself. My foot was shaking as I stopped at another light. The church was right next to us, and in a split-second decision, I turned the blinker on.

“Okay,” I said as I glanced behind us at the flashing lights on the interstate. “We’re ditching the car. Get your stuff together.”

“Ditching the car?” Trent stared at me like I’d said we were going to walk to the moon.

“Right now,” I said as the light changed and I turned into the quiet parking lot, ignoring the
DO NOT PARK
sign. “You hear those sirens? We left the scene of an accident, one we helped make. There’s no way we can go back there, which makes this a marked car, and not just by your friends from Seattle. Soon as we find Ivy, she’ll carry your bag, Mr. Kalamack. Think you can handle it that long?”

“First smart thing you’ve done all day,” Trent muttered, his fingers tapping.

Jenks exhaled loudly, his wings an excited red as I put the car in park and turned the engine off. I was moving almost before the car stopped, gathering my stuff and jamming everything but the bag of trash into my bag, Trent’s sunglasses included.

Trent was already out of the car, and I popped the trunk. My fingers trembled as I worked the door handle, finally getting the stupid thing open. Cool air slipped in, and the sound of kids. Damn, that had been close. What the devil were they putting in their coffee in Seattle?

“Where’s my phone?” I said, hearing it start to hum. “Jenks, have you seen my phone?”

Jenks darted to the floorboards. “It’s under the seat!” he said, then added, “It’s Ivy.”

I stretched, reaching for it, exhaling loudly as my fingers found the smooth plastic. I wished my fingers would stop shaking. Jenks zipped out from under the seat, and flipping my phone open, I muttered, “I think we lost them. We’re abandoning the car. Where are you?”

“From the sounds of the sirens, I’d say a couple of blocks away,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“I wish I knew.” Getting out, I looped my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my coat and Ivy’s laptop. Jenks was a sparkle of dust as he searched the car, giving me a thumbs-up before he joined Trent. Trent already had our luggage out from the back, and he slammed the trunk shut hard, his hands going to his hips as he squinted at the busy road, the wind from the nearby Mississippi River shifting his shirt to show the familiar mark on his shoulder.

“We’re at the church,” I told Ivy. “I got your laptop, and we’re going to walk in. Soon as we find you, we’ll head to your car.” Worry pinched my brow. “Ivy, they tried to kill us on the interstate. A semi tipped over, and I think they killed a carload of people. Someone will remember my mom’s car.”

“You’re at the church?” she asked, not caring. “You can’t park there.”

“I’m not parking, I’m abandoning,” I said, frustrated as I looked at the big, hand-painted sign. My mom would not be happy. She’d been royally pissed off when I’d left her car at a pull-off by the Ohio River last year. At least this time the car was in my name and she wouldn’t be getting the impound notice.

“Ivy, I gotta go,” I said, not able to handle everything I had and my suitcase, too.

“I’m on my way,” she said, and I could hear the hoot of a steamship through the connection before it cut off.

I closed my phone and tucked it away, worry settling in deep as I looked from Trent, standing behind the car with our stuff, to the road. We’d find Ivy, and then we’d be out of here. “Can anything else go wrong today?” I whispered, thinking I could have been sitting on a dock somewhere drinking coffee by now if the coven had let me fly.

“Uh, you gotta stop saying stuff like that,” Jenks said, darting up in a wash of dust. Alarmed, I followed his gaze across the busy street.

“Crap on toast,” I said, the dappled sun going cold on me as I saw three blond men in slacks and polo shirts. They must have left their car on the interstate and walked. It wasn’t that far, and a feeling of ice seemed to slip through me as I took them in.

One had really long hair; the other was short but perfectly proportioned; and the third, in the middle, reminded me of Quen, even though he looked nothing like him. It was his pace, both predatory and graceful. The other two carried themselves with a belligerent swagger, shoulders back, arms swinging, and hands well away from their sides. The Withons had gotten serious.

All three were watching us as they waited for four lanes of traffic to clear, but upon seeing me notice them, the one with the long hair simply stepped out into the street, his hand raised. Horns blew and cars screeched to a halt, the drivers yelling out their windows, ignored.

Trent turned to the noise, his lips parting as he took a deep, resolute breath. Funny, I’d have thought he’d look scared, not determined, and I stifled a surge of what might be a feeling of kinship.

“Well?” he asked me, looking surprisingly calm.

“Find Ivy,” I said, digging through my shoulder bag for a stick of magnetic chalk and reaching out for the city’s ley lines. I sucked my breath in as I found the one the arch was pinning down. Holy cow, it was big and way stronger than the one under Cincy’s university. It felt slippery, being next to so much water, and had a metallic flavor, like fish.

I looked up with the chalk in my hands, surprised to find Trent still standing there with his suitcase, Jenks hovering between us. “Go!” I shouted, pushing the chalk into Trent’s hand and giving him a shove. “Find Ivy. I’ll take care of this and catch you up.” Oh God. I could do this, right? Where was my black-arts bodyguard when I needed him?

“Rache…,” Jenks whined, but Trent looked at the chalk in his hand and nodded. Saying nothing more, he turned and walked quickly away, with his suitcase, headed for the arch.

“Stay with him, will you?” I asked Jenks, my attention on the three guys. They had gotten to the median and hadn’t slowed down. “Maybe get him to run a little?” I added, trying to be funny as I glanced at the worried pixy. “I’ll be right behind you. Piece of cake.”

“I don’t like this.”

My eyes flicked back to him, seeing his worry in the slant of his brow. “Me neither, but who do you think needs you more right now? I’ll catch you up. Go! It’s just three guys. Once you get Trent to Ivy, you can come back and play.”

He made a face, and with a harsh clatter, he bobbed up and down in agreement, then zipped after Trent, telling him to hurry up, that they had things to do today other than play tourist.

I felt better with Jenks watching Trent, but nervousness prickled through me as I turned back to the three blonds, now at the curb. The one with the long hair peeled off and started for Trent.