Agents Hall and Weinstein introduced themselves with curt politeness, pointedly ignoring the state they found us in. N’kal had the wherewithal to get off of me, but he kept my hand in his while the two men gave him a brief rundown of the new rules. Unsurprisingly, “sex with his new human mate” was not on the menu, nor was fun of any kind, it seemed. We were to head straight for the intake center, no stops except for food and bathroom breaks. No detours.
No passing Go. No collecting two hundred dollars.
The enormity of the trouble we were in seemed to sink in finally for N’kal, and he sobered as we left the hotel. Throngs of reporters waited outside to try to question him, but he did a good job of handling them. He kept his eyes focused past them, kept his arm around me, and kept from punching the more obnoxious of them.
The AARO vehicle was a stereotypical black SUV with dark tinted windows. We all climbed in, and Agent Hall took off towards the interstate, wasting only a few minutes at a fast-food drive through when N’kal complained of being dizzy and lightheaded.
It amazed me that they allowed me to join them, but then one of the agents grumbled under his breath about having to take “the unprofessional slut” along. No question who he meant by that.
My inclusion apparently came courtesy of an order from some Xalanite higher-ups, and I wondered if N’kal’s father might have gotten over his insistence on N’kal coming home.Maybe, if they were willing to let me join him on the trip to New York, they’d let him stay on Earth, too. I leaned forward to ask Agent Weinstein who gave the order to bring me with, but one glare from him was enough to shut me up.
I knew it might be hopeless to think that way, but I couldn’t help myself. I was becoming a softy.
N’kal spent the next few hours sulking, holding my hand and staring at my fingers intertwined in his. I stroked his hand while we sat in silence in the back seat. I didn’t get the impression that the AARO agents encouraged conversation, and there wasn’t much I wanted to say to N’kal that I could freely admit in front of them anyway. We hadn’t quite reached the public declarations stage of the relationship, at least as far as I was concerned. Walking hand-in-hand out of a hotel through a crowd of reporters was one thing, but actuallysayingthe words? I just didn’t know if I was ready, especially in front of two irritated strangers.
Traffic outside of Detroit sat at a near standstill at this time on a Saturday, with cars lined up for miles and not much forward momentum. It made me nervous, especially when things started to thin out enough for some rapid stop and go action. Agent Hall would gun the engine, then slam on the brakes as the cars ahead halted for no apparent reason. And I thought Chicago traffic was bad!
Agent Hall took us the Canada route, using his badge to bypass the pesky issue of me and N’kal not having passports on us. I hadn’t exactly had a chance to grab mine before we left Chicago, and he had literally nothing in the way of paperwork.
Once traffic thinned enough, we picked up speed, and Agent Hall seemed to want to get us there ASAP. He wasted no time bothering with speed limits, and he jerked in and out of the lane several times as he whipped past semis and other cars. I gripped the door handle with my free hand, hoping he didn’t do anythingtoo crazy before we reached our destination. I didn’t have the energy to deal with a freeway pileup.
Almost as if on cue, a steady rain began to fall. It seemed unusual for this time of year, but that wasn’t what bothered me. My main concern was Agent Hall’s speed. He didn’t slow a bit when the roads started to get wet, and a few times we hydroplaned slightly as he wove his way through the traffic.
I cleared my throat to get his attention. “Agent Hall, you may want to ease up a bit. We’ll get to New York eventually. There’s no need to rush.”
He rolled his eyes at me in the rearview. “Shut up. I know how to drive.”
As if he was trying to be contrary, the engine revved as he gunned it again.
“It’s just raining pretty strong out there right now …”
“I said shut up.” He swerved to get around a slow-moving construction truck, and that’s when it all went to shit.
Chapter 17
N’kal
Earth vehicles are dangerous.
Timber had barely started to caution our driver against risky operation of the car when he jerked the wheel and sent us careening off the paved road and down a hill. The vehicle rolled several times before stopping, and though our safety devices prevented us from being thrown about the cabin, they also prevented me from protecting Timber. I reached for her as we lost control, but I couldn’t pull her into my arms.
The front window caved in, the glass splintering and cracking. Metal scraped against stone, and a series of loud crunches resounded as the frame bounced and slammed into the ground. Timber screamed, and my hearts felt like they dropped into my stomach at the sound.
When we finally came to a stop, the car had landed upside down. I struggled against the safety device, forgetting in my panic how to operate the release.
“Timber!” I shouted over the hiss of steam. The odor of burnt synthetic material reached my nostrils, and I wondered if the vehicle had caught fire. I was not familiar with the mechanics of Earth land vehicles beyond the combustion engines that ran them, and I worried what might happen if the fuel source became exposed. Would it ignite?
“I-I think I’m okay,” she replied, and her hand found mine in the cabin. Her fingers squeezed mine, a strong hold that gave me hope. “Hang on. I’m going to unbuckle myself first, then I’ll get you loose. Agent Hall? Agent Weinstein? How are you guys?”
Low groans answered her.
“Shit. Okay, N’kal, help me out here. Xalanites are stronger than humans, right?”
I nodded, a strange feeling given my position. “Yes. What can I do?”
“First, brace yourself.” The safety device clicked and retracted, and I managed to catch myself before I fell onto the crumpled roof of the car. While I righted myself, Timber used her elbow to break through the cracked glass of the window next to her. She created an opening big enough for both of us, and we crawled out.
Timber wiped streaks of blood from her face—Where was she injured? There was so much blood I couldn’t tell—and knelt by the front half of the vehicle. “Agent Weinstein? Sir, I need you to tell me how bad it is. Where are you hurt?”
