Chapter 10
Itoss my backpack into the trunk of the car Talon stole from who-knows-where, and Cassian yanks open the back door to shove Mark inside. He doesn’t do it gently. If anything, he looks like he’s fighting the urge to launch him through the window.
My ex-husband hits the seat face-first with a grunt, the tape over his mouth swallowing the sound. His hands are bound tight behind his back with knotted rope Nathaniel insisted on redoing twice “for structural integrity.”
“Comfortable?” Cassian asks flatly, slamming the door before Mark can even lift his head.
I doubt he heard the question. And if he did, good. Maybe it’ll serve as a reminder that, with our bunch, nobody cares what he has to say.
A moment later, Talon and Nathaniel slide into the backseat, one on either side of him. But nobody removes the tape.
Instead, Talon leans close to Mark’s ear and mutters, “Road trip time.”
Mark’s eyes go so wide I wish I could take a picture. If it were ever in the cards for me to stay in one place for more than a little while—and if I could live long enough for that—I’d frame it and put it beside my bed.
I’m not counting the ICU room. As nice as it is to have a space prepared for me by people who care, it can’t be good long-term to live somewhere with that much mold.
That shit stays in the air, even if you scrub it off.
I should know. My grandma had to deal with the basement after a flood once. Even drying it out with an industrial dehumidifier didn’t change the fact that the mold had already settled into the materials. We had to seal the basement off so it wouldn’t spread.
It’s a nasty thing.
Cassian rounds the hood to the driver’s side. The door opens, letting in a bite of cold air. and then he leans in, broad shoulders filling the frame like the damn car is too small for him. He slides behind the wheel, adjusts his seat, and the movement drags my attention straight to him.
He’s wearing all black today. Combat pants, fitted shirt, a military jacket that hugs his shoulders.
And then my eyes drop, because of course they do. The way his pants sit low on his hips, the hard line of his belt, the casual spread of his thighs as he settles in. Something about it pins my gaze there for half a beat too long.
Hours. Long, long hours in a car with that beside me.
Oomph.
I drag myself back to the rest of the group. And yeah, it’s not like Cassian’s the only threat to my sanity. Nathaniel and Talon also look too gorgeous to be legal.
Me? I’ve got black jeans on, a tank top, and a jacket two sizes too big. Makeshift combat chic. Earlier, Nathaniel and Cassian handed me weapons. I’ve got a collapsible baton, a switchblade, and a gun on me.
So, I look like a badass too.
But it hits better on them.
“Hope they keep their end of the deal,” Cassian mutters.
It drags my attention to what he’s looking at—or, I should say, things. At least fifty pairs of crows sit on the power lines above us.
They’re watching us like we’re their favorite reality show. I bet they’re relaying everything to Rhea and her friends, too.
The thing is, we can’t exactly drive through the countryside with a flock of crows following us, now can we? This incursion isn’t just sneaking into Mark’s house and disappearing before the local TV can show up.
We’re actually going to hunt down some professionals.
So we negotiated that only two crows would follow us on the road.
Two.
“Yeah, let’s hope so,” I mutter.
Alex—the girl with the buzz cut—said she’d talk to Rhea and relay our request. Even though she was openly hostile the last time we talked, she really does want us to get rid of her killers.
And we really need help.
Because since last time, Rhea hasn’t appeared even once.
I don’t know when she wants to talk about “what happened,” but part of me has started believing she doesn’t want to at all. Still, we chose to believe her about the Skystones. For now. We locked them behind reinforced walls and left them there.
If the wraiths break out during our absence… well.
Too bad.
I guess it’ll be the end of the world. At least it won’t be next to us.
Cassian fires up the car and pulls us out of the cracked parking lot. The hospital shrinks in the rearview mirror.
“Probably gonna miss this place while we’re on the road,” I mutter.
Cassian casts me a sideways glance.
“Why? Grew on you?”
And, listen, in my mortal life, I wouldn’t have touched that building with a ten-foot pole. But I guess post-mortem, you see things differently.
“Well, I basically got born anew in there,” I say. “Get it? Since it’s a hospital.”
He stares at me for half a second, then rolls his eyes.
“Tough crowd,” I say, turning to look at the others.
“What?” Talon asks. “Sorry, Skye. Your asshole ex-husband keeps leaning on me.” He shoves Mark away. “Get a grip, man.”
Mark jerks against the seatbelt. Nathaniel plants a gloved hand on his chest and pins him to the backrest.
“Stop fidgeting,” he says. “Not only are you a pain in the ass, but you’ll chafe.”
Mark makes a muffled, outraged sound through the tape.
“Aww,” Talon says. “He’s upset. Someone get him a juice box.”
I snort despite myself, then glance at the side mirror. Two crows have taken their assigned posts, one on either side of us.
“Whatever,” I say. “It was a situational joke anyway.”
Mark growls through the tape and tries to squirm free. Nathaniel slides his forearm over to his neck.
“Stop,” Nathaniel says mildly. “Or I’ll sedate you for the drive, and you’ll wake up in a ditch with significantly fewer teeth.”
Mark stills. Very fast.
The road unspools ahead into the kind of empty you only get before sunrise—two lanes of blacktop with reflective paint that flashes in the headlights and then disappears again.
The world beyond the beams is mostly suggestion: dark tree lines, low fields, the occasional fence post sliding past like a metronome. Everything looks closed.
It’s barely 4 a.m.
The sky is a dull, bruised gray.
“So,” I say, resting my head against the window, “what did Alex say when she popped in this morning?”
I wasn’t there when Alex gave us the last of the information before we left. The guys told me she came by, but we didn’t have much time to exchange anything because Mark was being difficult when we uncuffed him in the basement.
He must still be angry that Cassian slashed his wrist yesterday, so he’s lashing out. For what it’s worth, his wrists healed quickly, leaving only a wound that would definitely hurt, but not kill.
“She confirmed the couple is moving toward the burn site,” Cassian says.
“That’s it?” I ask.
“And she tormented me,” Talon adds. “You know, just to remind me of all the bad things I’ve done and how Rhea suffered because of me.”
“What he said,” Cassian comments.
Ah. Alrighty, then.
“We’ll drive most of today, stop at a motel, sleep, shower, and regroup,” Cassian says. “Tomorrow we drive the last stretch and ambush the fuckers. Preferably, we’ll be able to ditch the car off-road before then and go in on foot. So we can’t be tracked if something goes wrong.”
“I don’t know how that would be possible,” I mutter. “They’re constantly on the move.”
“Well,” he says. “That’s what we need Alex for. She’ll recon and let us know. We’ll adapt.”
Talon taps the headrest in front of him.
“Nathaniel prepared for a scenario where we’ll have to sleep in the woods, too.
Made me bring tents and enough supplies to stay out there a day or two if we need to.
So if you’re hungry or whatever, just holler, Little Grim.
I’ve got food and water right behind me. ”
“Even packed bug spray for you, Skye,” Nathaniel chimes in.
I picture it: the four of us in the woods, plus one gagged, tied-up ex-husband sulking in the dirt like a very angry, useless pinata. I can’t help it; a slightly hysterical laugh claws its way up my throat.
Mark might come camping with us.
Mark, who used to wrinkle his nose if a leaf stuck to his shoe.
But the laugh dies quickly.
“But hold on,” I say. “The girls said the couple has two girls in the van right now, didn’t they?”
Cassian’s jaw tightens. “Yes.”
“And they only go to the burn spot when they’re planning to…” The words catch in my throat. “Burn a body.”
No one answers right away.
I stare at the road ahead.
“So if we don’t reach them in time,” I say slowly, “doesn’t that mean one of the girls will die?”
Silence drops. I think even Mark stops moving. He can’t possibly know what we’re talking about, but he stills anyway.
Cassian exhales once through his nose.
“That’s the worst possibility,” he says quietly. “Yes.”
My stomach lurches. “Well, fuck.”
“Of course we’ll do everything to save them,” Talon says.
I swallow hard.
Yeah. I know they will. Against all odds, they actually value human life. Just… selectively. It’s a trait I used to hate in them. Now it feels like a saving grace.
I lean my head against the window again and let the vibration of the car buzz against my skull.
That couple has been killing for a long time. They’re not just killers; they’re specialists.
We’re good. We’ve hunted before. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t quietly terrified that their advantage is bigger than anything we’re imagining.
Time stretches into gray highway and the low hum of the engine.
Miles click by. The sky doesn’t brighten; it just shifts from one shade of lead to another.
Talon dozes, wakes, and dozes again, his head knocking lightly against the window, Mark wedged between them like very unwelcome, very squishy cargo.
Nathaniel alternates between staring out the glass and tapping patterns on his knee, like he’s thinking about the exact same things I am.
Cassian doesn’t relax, either. He stays stiff until, a few hours in, my bladder and my sanity both start sending polite but firm kill-switch warnings.
“I need a bathroom,” I say, my leg bouncing.
Cassian glances at the gas gauge. “We could use gas, too.” He flicks on the blinker. “There’s a station coming up.”