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Page 59

 Rachel Vincent

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When the bag was empty, I wadded it up and dropped it at my feet, then started on a bottle of purple Gatorade. “So, where are we going?”
“Roswell.” Marc twisted in his seat, and his face came into focus in my side-view mirror. “We should be there in a couple of hours. Our flight leaves at nine-fifteen.”
“You’re serious? Roswell has an airport?”
“Nope.” Jace grinned. “We’re booked on the first available flying saucer. Hope you don’t get space-sick.”
I couldn’t suppress a grin of my own; it felt good to finally be smiling again, after so much fear and pain. Even if the jokes were stupid, and the smiles were only temporary, and neither could truly hide the seething anger and growing bloodlust consuming us all on the inside. “You only think that’s funny because you weren’t on my last flight. Whatever we take off in better have jet engines. Or at least a couple of propellers.”
Movement in the rearview mirror caught my attention, and I glanced up to see Marc scowling at Jace. I twisted to face him. “What’s wrong?” My question seemed somehow too trite, yet too complicated to have any real answer.
“How safe do you think Kaci is with them? With the birds?”
“Having second thoughts about leaving her?” Jace’s smile was gone.
“No,” Marc growled. “We had no choice. I just want to know how bad off she’ll be when we get there. Does she have anyone to talk to? Anything to do? Do they even know what to feed her?”
“Assuming we make the deadline, she’ll be fine.” I had little doubt about that, after seeing Brynn with her daughter. “They’ll stand by their word, unless I break mine. I made sure she has plenty to read, but there’s nothing I can do about the company. Fortunately, they seem inclined to leave her alone. They don’t like outsiders, and as weird as it sounds, they think of us as practically human.”
“Meaning what?” Jace asked.
“They look down on us, and they don’t trust us. Including Kaci. But they don’t want to hurt her, either. She’ll be fine, so long as we make it back with the smoking gun in two days.”
“What about food?”
“She’s a teenager, not a baby.” Jace swerved to pass the first car we’d seen since leaving the gravel road. “She eats the same things everyone else does.”
But I knew what Marc meant; Kai had asked for carrion. “I told them to make sure her food was fresh and well cooked.” In animal form, our stomachs can handle raw meat, but even a cat won’t eat rotting flesh. And in human form, Kaci couldn’t eat either one.
Marc nodded, apparently mollified, and scooted onto the driver’s side of the backseat, so he could see me better. He leaned against the window, and when he blinked, his eyes stayed closed a little too long. He looked exhausted, and I realized then that he and Jace probably hadn’t slept at all since Kaci and I had flown the coop. My father had sent them west immediately, hoping they’d be close enough to help by the time he heard from us.
“How did you guys get out?” I asked.
“Huh?” Jace frowned at me, and Marc blinked slowly in incomprehension. They really needed sleep.
“From the ranch. How did you get out? That was before the ceasefire.”
“Oh.” Marc rubbed both hands over his face, then blinked again. “Your dad went out the front door again, gun a-blazin’. While the birds were all flocking around him, we snuck out the back door and into the woods in cat form, each hauling a backpack.”
“Why the hell would they fall for that again? They’d just caught us sneaking out!”
“They didn’t fall for it.” Jace gave me a lopsided grin. “It was a hell of a race, but they didn’t follow us into the woods. I think they’re totally helpless when they’re earthbound.”
“Well, at least now someone can go out for food and supplies. So, how did you get your car?” I ran the fingers protruding from my cast over the door handle, then stopped and glanced at Jace again. “Wait, this isn’t yours.” Now that I’d warmed up and eaten, I realized that the upholstery was dark gray, when it should have been black.
Jace grinned again, impressed. “Nope. Dodd took us to a rental place, then took Teo, Manx, and Des to Henderson in his company car.”
No fair. Dodd had two cars, and I didn’t even have one. But then again, Carey Dodd had a good job, and—like most toms—no family to support. Whereas I wasn’t even drawing a salary, thanks to the tribunal, which had found me guilty of infecting my ex-boyfriend a few months earlier. Officially, working as an enforcer for free was considered my “community service.” If it wasn’t work I enjoyed, I’d have called it indentured servitude.
“Why don’t you take a nap?” I suggested, reaching back to squeeze Marc’s hand as he yawned again. “We’ll wake you up when we get to the airport.”
Marc started to refuse; I could see the frown building. But then he gave up and sighed. “Can you make sure smart-ass keeps us on the road, somewhere below light speed?”
I nodded and smiled, refraining from telling Marc that Jace was actually the better driver. Behind the wheel, Marc made The Fast and the Furious look like Driving Miss Daisy.
He looked unconvinced, but ten minutes later, he started snoring and I looked back to find him passed out against the window, using an empty backpack for a pillow.