Chapter 30
Jade
I came to, hanging upside down, my seatbelt digging into my ribs, the world tilted and wrong.
The smell of hot oil and scorched rubber filled my nose, sharp enough to cut through the ringing in my ears.
I blinked, my vision swimming, and tightened my arms instinctively.
The book was still clutched to my chest. Thank God.
My preservation gloves were smeared with dirt and something dark—oil, I hoped—as I fumbled for the buckle.
When I hit it, gravity took over. I dropped hard onto the ceiling, no, the road, and sucked in a breath that tasted like pain and panic.
“What the hell,” I croaked, my voice thin and unfamiliar.
The armored car lay on its roof, massive and absurd against the narrow forest road.
It was heavy as fuck. Armored cars didn’t flip.
Physics had opinions about that sort of thing, and physics was usually very rude about being contradicted.
In this case, it had involved a lot of twisted metal and power, and I was pretty sure my nose was bleeding, just a little.
I crawled out through the shattered side door, gravel biting into my palms through the thin cotton of my once-white gloves, the book hugged tight like a life preserver.
The sky was deepening toward indigo, the last smear of sunset bleeding out behind the trees.
The evening pressed in fast, the shadows stretching too long and far too eager.
I stood, or tried to, but my legs wobbled like overcooked noodles. That was when I saw the snowplow. It sat jackknifed across the road, its blade bent and the engine still ticking. A man climbed down from the cab, swearing loudly.
He was a threat that made me back up a few steps, but my stomach dropped when more figures stepped out from between the trees. At least half a dozen, and they were moving with purpose. This was an ambush, a successful one, so far. “Oh no,” I whispered. “No, no, no.”
Something brushed past my shoulder, a soft flutter of wings.
Hide. Belfry’s voice slid straight into my head, urgent and sharp.
Oh, thank God, he’d gotten out of that crash all right.
He was so tiny; it seemed impossible he’d survived without a scratch.
I could see him fluttering around my head by virtue of the white spot on his bandaged ear.
He’d tried to warn me of his presence with that wing brush, but I startled a little anyway. It was a bit too much like a hand reaching for me from behind. “Luther?” I hissed under my breath, spinning toward the overturned car. “Where is Luther?”
He can take care of himself, Belfry told me.
Now hide before they see you! He circled over the overturned car, a flash of black and red, a glimmer of gold, and then came right at me as if he were going to push me bodily toward the trees.
At the last moment, he pulled up, because even though he was a large brown bat, he was still tiny.
“That is not an answer,” I snapped, fear clawing up my throat, thick and choking. “Why isn’t he out here?” Luther was so strong, so impervious to anything. Why wasn’t he crawling out of the car with me? I hadn’t gotten so much as a scratch, except for a bit of a bloody nose.
He’s still healing. Your charm kept you safe, but it didn’t protect him. Now go! Belfry explained. Then he arrowed for the trees as if showing me the way. I ran, even though it felt like shit to abandon Luther to his fate. He’d heal? Would he really?
Ducking behind a tree and a few dense shrubs, I glanced back to see two men hauling Luther out of the wreck.
He hung limp between them, head lolling, dark hair matted with blood that gleamed too black in the fading light.
Rage burned through the shock, hot and bright.
They touched him! They hurt him! I wanted to charge back out there and start kicking them.
Jade, now. Belfry darted in front of my face, his tiny silk vest immaculate despite everything, gold chain flashing.
You must hide! Go deeper into the trees.
Hurry. He was right; those two guys holding Luther were far bigger than David, and they weren’t alone, more were circling the armored car, looking for something, for me.
“I hate this,” I breathed, but I did as Belfry ordered me to. I turned and ran. Branches tore at my jacket, thorns snagged at fabric and skin as I plunged into the undergrowth. My lungs burned from the effort; athlete I was not. Behind me, voices barked orders, about the book, about me.
“She’s missing.”
“Spread out.”
“She couldn’t have gone far.”
They had to be from Sunworld; it was the only explanation.
My jaw clenched tight, still bruised from the last confrontation, as I ran harder, sneakers slipping on damp leaves.
I couldn’t see far, it was that dark beneath the trees, but I could still hear what was going on behind me: they were searching the car now, searching for what I had.
Belfry veered away, looping back toward the road. “Don’t you dare…” I started, suddenly terrified he’d abandon me when shit was getting tough. He hadn’t last time, not even when I’d asked him to; I’d had to shove him out the window. I knew that wasn’t what he was doing, and his words confirmed it.
I’m circling back to help Luther. You keep moving!
I’ll be back soon, hang in there, Jade. Then he was gone.
My heart rate soared now that I was alone; the forest looked twice as dark and twice as scary.
It felt like the woods had swallowed me whole.
Darkness pooled between the trees, every sound magnified, the snap of a twig, the rush of my own blood.
I bit hard on my lip and forced myself to keep moving.
I angled toward Hillcrest Hollow on instinct alone, even though twenty miles might as well have been the moon.
Something crashed through the brush behind me, footsteps chasing me over the uneven ground, far steadier than mine. “Stop!” a voice snarled. “Give me the book.” I was so not cut out for this: not fast enough, not athletic. All of this for a book about a creature that people had forgotten existed?
I spun at the sound of that voice, because it was so close I knew I could not outrun it.
My heart was hammering in my throat at the sight that greeted me.
He wasn’t… entirely human. His eyes caught the dim light, reflecting wrong, like those of a predator that hunted at night.
His smile showed too many teeth. He repeated his order, a hand with razor-sharp claws swinging toward the book I was clutching.
“No,” I said, surprising myself with how steady it came out.
He lunged toward me, and I stumbled back, nearly going down as my ankle twisted on a sudden root.
His claws came so close, I felt the air displace against my face.
Belfry appeared out of nowhere, a streak of black and gold.
He opened his tiny mouth and belched a gout of flame straight at the man’s face.
“What the...!” the man screamed, and then he wasn’t a man anymore.
There was a bright burst of light—white and blue-gray—that flashed across my retinas and blinded me.
I kept stumbling back anyway, certain that if I froze in place, I was dead.
When the spots dancing across my vision cleared, a wolf stood where the man had been; massive and gray, eyes blazing with fury.
He leapt for Belfry, darting overhead, and missed, jaws snapping shut on empty air. Then he came for me.
I ran, but the ground betrayed me. My foot caught on a root, and I went down hard, the book flying from my grip for half a heartbeat before I snatched it back.
It felt like the dark was writhing around me, gleeful over my mishap, eager for my demise.
My terror was making me see things, like fingers of darkness licking toward the book before I gathered it close again.
The wolf was on me in an instant. Teeth closed on my jacket, fabric tearing, the weight of him crushing the air from my lungs.
I screamed and swung blindly; the book connected with his skull with a dull, hollow thud.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I yelled, not because I was sorry for the wolf, but because I’d just used a priceless artifact as a weapon.
The wolf went slack and tumbled sideways.
It just collapsed, turning into dead weight across my legs.
I stared, chest heaving, my disbelief roaring louder than my pulse.
“I did not hit him that hard, did I?” I muttered.
There was no way I—a tiny, not-athletic librarian—had just knocked out a giant wolf with an admittedly well-aimed whack of a book.
But there you had it: the wolf was out, for now.
Protection charm, Belfry said smugly, hovering above the fallen wolf.
It grows stronger with use, and that crash supercharged it.
Now run. I scrambled to my feet, kicking the gray bulk of the beast as I yanked my legs free.
Gold and green glowed along my wrist, adding credence to Belfry’s declaration.
“What about Luther?” I asked, peering back into the dark trees the way I’d come, hoping for any sign of him.
Belfry had gone to him, but was he back now?
My heart surged with hope, but Belfry shook his tiny head as he landed on my shoulder.
My feelings plummeted and crashed. Not yet?
No, he’s gone? What did that head shake mean?
He’s awake, and he’s pissed. Don’t worry, Jade.
Keep running while I get help. I knew Belfry wasn’t a mind reader, but it felt like he knew exactly what had been running through my brain at the time.
I shook from the force of what I was feeling and from the rapid twists and turns these past five minutes had taken.