Crap!
Their lights flash on, bright red and blue against the afternoon sun.
I groan.
“What is it?” Wren asks, seeing me look in the rearview mirror, she turns, looking back.
Her breathing gets rapid and shallow. “Are they coming after us?”
I nod.
I keep going, pretending the vehicle isn’t coming after us.
“What are we going to do?” she asks, clearly panicking a little.
“I’m thinking.”
Then something shifts in her expression. Her jaw sets, her eyes sharpen.
“Accelerate,” she orders. “Now!”
I press the gas pedal, the old Camry surging forward. I’m still careful not to go too fast, or they’ll think we’re making a run for it.
The security vehicle speeds up too, still a little way behind us.
“There’s a street coming up on the right,” Wren says, her voice steady now, despite the fear in her eyes. “Take it. Fast. Then pull over immediately.”
“What? Why would I—?”
“Trust me!” She’s already unbuckling her seatbelt. “As soon as you stop, get in the back. You need to hide on the floor. I’ll get in behind the wheel.”
“Wren, that’s insane. They’ll—”
“Trust me, Grim!” Her voice cracks with urgency. “Please. We don’t have time to argue. I have a plan. I hope it works.”
The street appears ahead on the right. She’s right; I don’t have time to argue. I have to trust she knows what she’s doing.
I make the turn fast, tires squealing again. The moment we’re out of sight of the main road, I slam on the brakes and throw the car into park.
“Go!” Wren shouts. “Now!”
I’m already moving, throwing open my door and scrambling out. Wren slides across the center console into the driver’s seat as I yank open the back door and dive inside.
“Get on the floor,” she hisses.
I wedge myself into the narrow space, my body too big for it. My shoulders press against both front seats. My legs are cramped, knees drawn up almost to my chest. Thank fuck this older vehicle is so spacious, or I would never have fit.
“There’s a blanket,” Wren says, her hands already on the wheel. “Cover yourself. All of you. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”
I start to protest, to tell her this won’t work, that they’ll search the car and find me immediately.
“Just do it,” she says, her voice is urgent. “Trust me.”
Something in her tone makes me shut my mouth. I reach up and grab the blanket from the back seat and pull it over myself.
I hear rustling above me. Fabric moving. Wren doing something I can’t see.
I break out in an instant sweat. My heart is going nuts. My dragon is screaming at me to shift, to fight, to protect her. I forcehim down again, holding my breath as I hear a car door slam outside.
