Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“ Y ou might as well explain all the details of your curse. We have plenty of time.” I crossed my arms, sitting back on the seat with a harrumph . These secrets were annoying and had to stop.
He didn’t take his eyes off the road, but there was a pause. “I’ll age faster than you can track, my eyes don’t change with the illusion anymore, and touching, kissing, being with others steals my life. But these things won’t matter if we get the ring back to my mother, who can fix the time.”
“It’s Victoria who handles time?” I asked, itching a palm against my pants and stretching out my fingers.
“Only some of the members of the old lines can work with artifacts.” His head cocked as he glanced over at me.
“Then I’ll be warrant-free, and you’ll be uncursed. Perfect. Speed up.”
“I’m already doing… SHIT,” Wald said, looking past me in the rearview mirror. Was it the first time he’d cursed ?
I whipped around. A black SUV was on our tail. A flashing blue and white light reflected off the console.
My heart pounded as my throat closed. Holy crap. After all of this, I was about to be arrested.
Wald slowed down and began to pull over.
“Why are you pulling over? You can’t give us up. What about the ring? If they take the marble, we’ll never get it back to your mother. You should take the marble, just in case,” I gushed out, digging the marble out of my bra.
He raised a hand waving me off. “Keep it and stay in the car. We need more time, and outrunning them isn’t working. Trust me, I have no intention of allowing you to go to jail,” he growled, pushing my outstretched hand away as the sedan crunched to a halt.
“You can’t kill them. There’s already a string of bodies with my name on them.” I gripped his shoulder, and he batted off my hand, then opened the car door.
My brain caught up to what I’d just said.
Wald was a killer, and somehow that didn’t matter?
When had I changed my mind? The part of me that wanted to leap out of the car didn’t win over caution.
I turned to see what we were up against. Wald walked up to the dark-suited man and pulled off his sunglasses.
That was no police officer.
Jeezus. Could these be Grigores?
I scooted to the edge of the seat and, with a minimal profile, peered out the back window. Wald slapped his neck, and I bit back a whimper as the man put cuffs on Wald and walked him to the car.
Fuck no. Why was he letting them arrest him?
Stuffing the marble back into my bra, I dropped to the floor of the backseat breathing fast.
What the fuck was I going to do?
Something.
I had to do something.
I already had my hand on the back seat door latch. With a deep breath, I opened it and half fell out. Brushing the dust off the vomit-crusted skirt, I walked forward with squared shoulders, a cocked head, and a raised chin.
“Hey, where do you think you are going with my prisoner?” I said in my very best “don’t mess with me” voice. The agent whipped around, and I have to say I appreciated the look of pure enjoyment that Wald gave me, despite my heart beating fast enough that it was about to jump out of my chest.
“Who the hell are you?” the Agent-thing-Grigores-whatever said. He was wearing sunglasses, too. His head bobbed as he surveyed my torn, blood-streaked dress, and I refrained from trying to reposition my clothing by crossing my arms and thrusting out a hip impatiently.
“Does it matter?” I nodded at Wald to do the make-them-all-dead-thing he did.
He shook his head at me and then raised his chin giving me the go-ahead.
My brain glitched, and I stared back at Wald.
The go-ahead for what? The agent was going to the small of his back.
I had no idea why Wald wasn’t killing them.
Maybe I should kill this one right now before he gets his gun out?
What was I even saying? I wasn’t killing anyone.
I didn’t kill people. I was staying alive.
I stuck a hand down my cleavage, and my fingers found the marble probably a second before the bullet left the gun.
I saw it go through where my head had been.
The bastard shot me in the head. A weird frigging sensation.
I ran forward and stumbled to a halt as the agent looked at me.
Crap. Right, slow movements. I walked slowly and evenly sideways and then went straight for the agent as he looked wildly around trying to find me.
I stuffed the marble into my bra, then chopped him hard on the wrist. The agent didn’t drop the gun.
He fired it. I fell sideways as Wald threw himself at me.
My hand went to my shoulder where the bullet hole should have been.
No wound. I looked up. Wald and the agent were locked in a death grip, and blood was pouring out of Wald’s side.
I jammed my hand down my dress, grabbing the marble. The other agent was looking around for me. Oh my God.
Pull it together, Harlan. Wald’s been shot before.
He’ll heal before I even get up. He’ll wrestle the agent, kill him like before, and we’ll continue on our way.
You can only be cursed once, right? Maybe the agents didn’t count.
Hadn’t Wald said the curse was about family?
I watched in abject horror as more blood gushed out from two more shots, and Wald fell to his knees.
Nine hells. What was I going to do now?
I ran through the plausible scenarios and then the implausible ones: Wald dying, me dying, or both of us dying were the alternating endings.
I didn’t like any of them. Two agents were more than I could take down on my own.
I needed that gun or another weapon. I also needed to know why Wald wasn’t changing form and ripping the agents into ground meat.
Either they were some special kind of thing he couldn’t kill, they’d made it impossible for him to change, or there was another explanation I hadn’t figured out yet.
The agents hauled Wald into the back of the SUV.
Feeling like a fox sneaking around the hounds, I moved in for a closer look.
The trunk space was kitted out in metal, like Wald’s special box with the same kind of holes, but wasn’t padded with velvet.
Wald growled or groaned. My body surged with adrenaline, unraveling a primal rage to avenge him as the hatch closed.
The male agent was a couple of inches taller than me and had some muscle that rivaled Tyre.
Wrestling and winning was not happening.
The female was strong too but petite in comparison.
Maybe half a ruler shorter than me. She had a gun in her hand and a holster under her blazer, which made her an easier target because she couldn’t drive and hold a gun.
My heart pounded as I slid past the male agent and crawled into the back seat. He looked around as I moved, but I was pretty sure he didn’t see me. They both got into the car, and the petite agent tucked her gun into the shoulder holster before she started it.
Metal clanged in the back as Wald kicked the box sides. The male agent whipped around seeing through me. I breathed out the relief that Wald was still alive. Now it was my turn to save him. On the floor were ammo boxes and a med kit. Maybe there was something I could use.
The agents began to talk in a language that had a similar accent to Wald. Were they Norwegian too? That made no sense. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, so listening had no purpose.
I dropped to the floor, scrunching up as small as I could beside the med kit, and fumbled with the latch which turned out to be a lock. Who locks a med kit?
The ammo boxes were the plastic kind, and they weren’t locked.
It really piqued my interest in that medical kit.
The bullets in the first two were basic 357s, or so it said on the label.
The third box said it contained hollow bullets packed with something written in a language I couldn’t read.
If they’d worked on Wald, maybe they’d work on the Grigores.
Taking a deep breath, I released the marble back into my bra.
Quietly, I opened the ammo box. Inside was a key!
My heart leapt. I plucked it and two of the hollow bullets out of the box, excited to open the med kit.
The male agent reached into the backseat, and his hand landed on my back.
He yelled as I grabbed the marble. Slowly, I clambered up on the seat as he leaned into the backseat, searching for me.
He took the ammo box that I had just rifled.
Nine hells.
He said something, which I assumed was “I must have imagined it.”
I dropped to the floor again. My time was running out.
I let go of the marble and jammed the key into the med pack’s cheapo lock and twisted it.
The goddamned key broke off but not before the case lock clicked open.
Maybe my luck was changing. I pulled out syringes and bottles, praying they weren’t antibiotics.
It didn’t matter. Whatever they had in them was going to have to work.
The case closing caused the passenger to look back again, but the marble was already in my hand.
The vials had names I couldn’t even pronounce. Thrumming with adrenaline, I jammed a syringe into the first bottle and broke the fricking needle. Fuck. It looked so easy on TV.
Seconds ticking, I tipped the vial upside down and slowly inserted the second needle while pulling the plunger back. I got that needle in on the first try, but trying to pull the plunger back, the fricking vial slipped out of my fingers.
How hard could this be? On my second try, I got an inch of liquid into the syringe. It would have to be enough. I tapped the needle with my fingernail because TV nurses always flick a syringe.
The agents were fighting, flinging partially English curses and accusing the other of being a slob. The woman agent slowed down and changed lanes. This was my chance.