I try to be kind. “Daisy, is everything all right?”
She flashes me a tight smile and nods.
“Good,” I say. “We probably need to get going.”
Everyone looks like they’re ready. I return to the water tower to lock up and give the place one last inspection to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. We look a little like we’ve been burgled, especially in the kitchen where Malachi hasn’t bothered to close half the cupboards and drawers. I walk around, closing each of them, then check the other rooms to make sure we won’t be returning to chaos.
Something catches my attention.
The door to the altar room is slightly ajar. I was sure it had been fully closed because we’d been careful not to let Daisy see in there. Then I remembered that we grabbed the masks in the middle of the night. We must have left the door open then. Shit. Oh, well, it’s too late now to worry about Daisy seeing. She’ll hopefully be back with her family, soon.
With everything straightened, I leave the water tower, making sure to lock the door behind me, and head to the truck. Malachi is riding shotgun, while Ophelia, Daisy, and Roman are in the back. Ophelia is in the middle. Her head rests on Roman’s shoulder. Daisy is angled away from them both, staring out of the passenger window, even though there isn’t anything to see yet.
I climb behind the wheel. “Everyone ready?”
Nods from my passengers follow, and I start the truck. I toot the horn a couple of times to let Felix know we’re on the move. The headlights of the large RV illuminate in a couple of flashes to let me know he understands.
I put the vehicle into gear and my foot on the gas and head out of Verona Falls.
CHAPTER 14
Ophelia
We’ve beenin the truck a few hours now, and Daisy has been even quieter than her usual taciturn self. It worries me a little, but still, I understand how anxious she must be feeling. I’m feeling much the same, but it must be worse for her. At least I have my men with me, while she must trust these three men who go against everything she believes in, simply because I trust them. She has to be so worried about her family. This time tomorrow, the ascension will be happening, and she’s relying on us to stop it.
In the front of the truck, Malachi is controlling the music. He’s playing songs from all his favorite bands, but he only plays the first minute or so before switching to the next one.
“I swear,” Cain says from between gritted teeth, “if you do that for the next eight hours, or however long we’ve got left on this journey, you’re going to lose your hand.”
Malachi chuckles. “I get bored quickly.”
“Yeah, well, you’re boring the rest of us. Pick something and leave it, or I’ll be in charge of the music.”
Mal rolls his eyes. “All right, old man.”
Though they’re ragging on each other, the mood has been generally good. It does feel like we’re on a road trip, withMalachi in charge of handing out the snacks as well. A breakfast of corn chips, soda, and Twinkies probably isn’t the healthiest in the world, but it’s good for morale.
I nudge Daisy’s knee with mine. “It’s all going to be okay,” I try to reassure her.
She turns from the window to flash me a tight smile and a nod.
She probably doesn’t believe me, but why would she? It’s not like I know for sure that this is going to work out. I finger the black pendant nestled at my throat. Even charms and magic won’t guarantee a good outcome. One of my men, or more, could get hurt. It would kill me to see Roman in an even worse state. It would all be my fault, too. I brought both Daisy and the Prophet into their lives. They make so many sacrifices for me and ask nothing in return except for me to love them.
And I do love them, deeply, but I also need for them to be safe. I’d never forgive myself if they were hurt because of me. It would be something I couldn’t recover from.
Malachi pulls the passenger mirror down and checks his reflection. He blinks a few times then swipes at something in his right eye—a hair, or similar, I presume. As he lifts his hand to slam the mirror up again, his gaze catches mine.
He mouths two words.Breathe, baby.
My stomach warms. I recall when he fell to his knees on the ground for me and held my hands as he helped me breathe through a panic attack. It was barely any time ago, but it feels in some ways like years have passed. Probably because we’ve all gone through so much since then.
As the journey wears on, the atmosphere in the truck changes. We have made two bathroom stops and been on the road for over eight hours. I’m exhausted. My body aches, and I can’t imagine how Roman is feeling. There’s nothing worse thanhaving to travel when you’re sick or in pain, and bashed up ribs mean there won’t be any position he’s comfortable in.
“Do you want some more pain meds?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “I’m trying to keep them to a minimum. Need to be alert while we’re out here.”
“You can’t go in pain,” I say with concern.
