“I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I?” she said out loud.
There was no answer. The forest was silent.
It was a ridiculous question, anyway. She knew exactly how seldom she did the right thing, and never for the right reasons, either. But her intel was solid.
And so was the fact that no one else who could help in time would believe her.
Shivering, Francine got into the driver’s seat. With a glance at Julian to make sure he was safely strapped in, she started the car.
There was no going back now. If she waited around long enough for Lance to send reinforcements, to explain what she’d discovered, to try to convince them she wasn’t the one who set off the bomb—they’d be too late. She had to move, now.
Iamdoing the right thing.
This time.
A knot formed in her stomach the minute she merged onto the highway. As she drove, hour after hour, it twisted and got bigger.
She clutched the dragon scale in her pocket and glanced sideways. Julian was slumped in his seat, his head tipped back. He was still breathing. That was the important thing. Her mate—
She had to stop thinking about him asher mate.It was too distracting, and she couldn’t afford distractions.
His face was haggard, as though the healing process was wearing away at his human body. Which it probably was. How badly had his dragon been injured?
She gritted her teeth.I should have suspected sabotage. I should have known attack doesn’t always come from outside—sometimes it comes from within. I of all people should have known that. I should have—
Light streamed into her car.
“Shit!” she burst out, and hauled on the wheel. A truck was trying to overtake, but instead of pulling into the space in front of Francine’s car, it was trying to pullinto her car.
She stamped on the accelerator. The engine screamed as she just managed to put enough distance between her and the truck before it ran her off the road.
“What the hell?” she snapped, glaring at the truck in her rear-view mirror. “Are you blind? Asshole!” She leaned on the horn until it became clear the truck driver wasn’t going to respond.
“Ugh.” Francine glanced back at the passenger seat. Julian was invisible again; she must have dropped the scale while she was avoiding the truck. She checked the truck in her rear-view mirror again—asshole—and hunted around for it. It wasn’t on her lap. Or in her footwell.
She tried to remember precisely how she’d reacted when she saw the truck bearing down on her. She’d flailed—humiliating—and yanked the wheel around, and—yes. She must have thrown it somewhere on the passenger side.
She glanced back at the road, and the rear-view mirror, and glared at the passenger seat. Fumbling around Julian’s invisible lap trying to find the scale would be … awkward. But she needed it if she was going to see when he woke up.
There! Something glinted in the footwell. Francine anchored the wheel in one hand and leaned over. She might only have human grace and flexibility, but by God, she could at least—
PAAARP!
Francine grabbed the scale and shot upright. The truck that had tried to overtake into her was in the next lane again, bearing down on her. Francine clutched the steering wheel. Her skin felt hot and cold at the same time.
“Hey! Hey!” she yelled, beating on the horn. “Stop it! Can’t you see me?”
Beside her, Julian murmured something sleepily. She risked a glance in his direction and saw him beginning to stir. But the truck was still closing in. It had sped into the lane next to hers as though it was trying to overtake, but it was now sliding slowly but firmly back into her lane.
Francine swore as her right wheels skidded over the warning bumps at the side of the road. The judder seemed to wake Julian up more.
“What’s happening?” he muttered urgently. “What—oh, ice, my head…”
“I’ll get some ice for your head when we’re not being run off the road,” Francine snapped. She leaned on the horn again, but the truck driver didn’t change his course. She could slow down—but the truck the asshole driver had overtaken just a few minutes ago was still riding her tail.
Francine gritted her teeth.Get run off the road by one eighteen-wheeler or runoverby another. This is my lucky night. Unless…
She narrowed her eyes at the truck beside her.Maybe I was wrong about not being followed.
