No, it was inching up to our side.
Cillian clenched his jaw, clearly biting back a curse as he sped up the slightest bit more, as if looking for an opening. How he remained so calm, so collected, was a mystery to me, but he possessed a deadly focus.
To the left, a small gap opened up—Cillian seized it.
Once he slipped into that one, he pushed on the gas, moving even faster to then launch into a spot in the middle lane again, ahead of where he’d been.
The black sedan was stuck a car behind us in the middle lane. My knuckles grew white on the door handle. Maybe we could make it.
Cillian veered to the right, sliding into place, and then slammed on the accelerator to zip off the highway, down into the side streets again.
How close were we to the Spires? We couldn’t be far at this point. My heart hammered so hard it all but leapt out of my chest, and the squeeze of these smaller streets only amplified my nerves.
“They’re not going to smash us off the road, are they?” I asked, wanting the reassurance, even though my gut proclaimed danger, danger, danger.
Cillian’s silence was all the answer I needed. My palms sweated as I kept my grip on the door handle. He plunged downa few more random side streets until he blasted into a familiar alley.
I glanced out the window and up. The Spires were right next to us, looming above us in all their stony majesty.
Thank fuck.
As I looked into the side mirror again, the black sedan clipped around the corner.
Cillian sped up and clicked a button. Up ahead, a garage door began to slide open.
So close.
I bit my lower lip so hard it bled, not glancing into the mirror again to see where the black sedan was. Instead, I kept my gaze to the front and focused on the open garage ahead of us, one I now recognized as being attached to the Spires.
Almost there.
Cillian simmered in his quiet, but he remained calm and in control as he closed the remaining feet toward it.
He turned the wheel and made the sharp turn, a screech sounding as we entered the garage. Cillian jammed on the button. At once, the door began to roll down behind us as we flew forward into the dimly lit parking garage.
I took my first deep, full breath since the black sedan had begun following us.
The garage door clicked shut.
“They won’t follow us here?” I asked, as Cillian slowed to a glide around the circle of the garage until he found a clear spot closer to an upper floor.
“Wouldn’t dare,” he said. “Amelia’s got tricks up her sleeve.”
Considering she was a witch, I could make a guess about protection spells, at least for the Spires. I sagged against the seat and let out a long, noisy exhale. “Thank fuck.”
“Thorin likes to ruin things,” he murmured as he shut the engine off.
“I’m catching the drift. No wonder you rarely leave the Spires. Has it been like that for a while?”
Cillian’s silence was loaded, and for a moment I thought he would ignore my question. “It’s only lately that it’s gotten this bad. But Thorin Glass has long been a bane on my family.”
“Maybe I should be glad I’m from a staunchly working-class family,” I responded. “Feels a lot less dramatic.”
He let out a snort. “Should we head back in?”
I nodded, even though my blood still thrummed. The adrenaline hadn’t faded yet, and a craving I’d long tried to suppress rose again. I needed to unleash all this pent-up energy, and there was one way I wanted to, desperately.
Cillian lifted a brow. “What’s going through your mind, pet?”
