I looked behind us again. The entire front of the van had been pushed in; steam rose from the grille, and the bumper had been partially torn off. Their windshield had also shattered, so I couldn’t see how the van’s occupants had fared, but hoped like hell the guy with the phone had at least been taken out of action.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Bethany,” Henrick said calmly. “The car is reinforced to withstand that sort of impact.”
“I’m not worried about the Merc; I’m worried about there being more of them.”
“If there are, we shall deal with them.”
I should have been reassured by his calm confidence. I wasn’t.
I held tightly onto the grab handle and watched as Henrick sped around the back of the building, through a short weed-encrusted space, then into the parking area behind another warehouse. As we bumped out onto the road and accelerated away, I turned around again. There was no sign of the other van—just a line of buildings on one side and thick vegetation on the other. But just as my heartrate began to ease, it appeared.
I swore.
“Indeed,” Henrick said. “They are very persistent.”
“You want me to call in the IIT?”
He hesitated. “It might be wise. At the very least, they can escort us to the hospital.”
I bent, grabbed my phone out of my purse, and called Sgott.
“I take it this is no social?—”
“No,” I cut in quickly. “We’re in Mathi’s car, being chased by black vans. Mathi’s been darted, I think by Dahbree or something similar. We’re currently on—” I paused, and Henrick immediately said, “Stadium Way.”
I repeated that and added, “I have a tracker?—”
I didn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t get a chance. Henrick’s sudden, violent swearing had me looking around sharply. A black van—a different black van—was coming straight at us from out of a side street. The Merc slewed violently sideways, the tires and engine screaming, but this time, there was no avoiding the collision. The van punched hard into the side of the car, throwing us about like rag dolls and rocking the vehicle up ontwo wheels. The air bags exploded, filling the air with a thick smoky smell.
“Bethany?” I heard Sgott yelling. “Talk to me.”
I wasn’t holding the phone. I had no idea where it even was. But I nevertheless croaked, “We’re hit, bad, help.”
I had no time for anything else, not even to call the wind for help, because we were in the grass and rolling, over and over.
I hit my head, felt warmth trickling down my face, and a sudden twist of pain in my leg. The car settled upside down, and the groaning began, some of it mine, most of it the car’s. For what seemed an eternity, that’s all I heard. That, and the desperate, fear-filled pounding of my pulse.
Then, from somewhere close, a woman said, “Fuck, did you idiots hit the elf? You were told to leave him alone.”
I didn’t hear the reply. I did hear the distant wail of sirens.Sgott. He would save us. Save me.
“We’ve no fucking time for excuses,” she growled. “Get the woman out and fast, before the fucking cops get here.”
I knew that woman. Or, at least, knew her voice.
It was Carla.
The realization finally had me reaching past the haze of pain for the wind, but before I could direct it against her or anyone else, darkness surged and swept consciousness away.
Chapter
Twelve
Waking was a slow and painful process. There were madmen armed with heavy picks digging their way through my head, desperately trying to get out, and a good portion of my body seemed to be joining in on the pain party, making it difficult to think.
For what seemed like forever, I didn’t. I simply survived.
But as consciousness slowly sharpened, I became aware of the cold stone pressing against my back and the ropes that bound my wrists and ankles together. The air was cold and somewhat stale, and the silence was absolute. Nothing moved, either in this place or beyond it.
