“That’s enough progress for us to move on to Reno without leveling any cities, yeah?”
“I think in Reno, we should get a car,” he says. “Then we can talk and move.” He inclines his head. “Yes?”
“I detest you the least in your horse form,” I say. “But that might be a smart move.” But it begs the question—I have no money, identification, or, well. . . anything. “How do you think we’re going to get a car?”
“Humans seem to just leave them lying around.” He nods. “I’ll just walk up and take one that doesn’t have a human piloting it.”
Oh, boy. We’re in for a fun few days.
9
Whitney
I fired an entire clip into this guy right after we met, and the bullets did absolutely nothing, even though I was nearly at point blank range.
I’m assuming that I can’t kill him.
At least, not in any way my mortal brain might think up.
Which means my only hope is to reach out to Izzy and Leonid. Maybe they’ll have an idea or at least stronger firepower. Plus, I’m pretty sure my whole family’s freaking out thanks to whatever they saw on the news coupled with my ongoing silence.
They probably think I’m dead.
I had to stay “silent” at the time, because his death magic or some other facet of his powers melted cell phones, knocked out satellites, and generally destroyed anything technological in the vicinity. But now that he’s playing nice for a bit, I’ve noticed that people are able to make calls, check their email, and carry on as usual.
Which means I need to distract Mr. Always Present and somehow get to a phone. But once I do, who do I call, and what do I tell them? Certainly, I’ll let them know I’m alive. I’ll tell them I’ve been taken by Xolotl in some kind of bond-induced slavery. I consider calling Izzy or Leonid, but I imagine when push comes to shove, I’ll call my mother. She’s been the one I call for, well, my entire life.
But exactly what to tell her, I have no idea.
I’m not even entirely sure what I think myself anymore. Not that it matters right now. I’m not even close to being able to sneak away and make a phone call. I’m in the midst of a new criminal activity.
Xolotl’s staring at an ATM. “You’re saying that inside this little box, there’s enough special paper to get us a car?”
I shrug. “I’m really not sure, and I have no idea whether someone will even sell you a car if you don’t have a license or car insurance.”
He clenches his fist, and I notice the sidewalk’s starting to buckle. “Or I could simply threaten that if they don’t give me the car I want, I’ll end their life.”
The man walking past turns his head and glares, but once he gets a better look at Xolotl, he ducks and walks faster. I’m not sure I’d want to mess with him either. He is close to seven feet of pure muscle, and he emanates power in the same way some people, like my mother, seem to emanate calm. Or others, like my brother Nathan, seem to spread mischief.
The all-black isn’t making him seem accessible either.
“Lower your voice,” I hiss. “People can hear you.”
“I don’t care who hears me or what they hear.” He clenches his teeth, and his jaw contracts.
I hate that he looks hotter when he’s furious.
“It appears that there’s no way to do this your way.” His lip curls. “How about we try it mine?” He turns toward the front of the bank, clearly honing in on the people. “You said there’s lots of money inside there, and the only thing stopping us from taking it are the people working at the. . .bank? Is that what it’s called?”
I grab his wrist, tugging him away from a terrible idea. “No, look.”
But he spins then, his entire body stepping into my space, his chest right in front of my head, the heat from him rolling over me like a furnace set to blistering, and I’m aware in a way I never was before of quite how enormous he is. He practically has his own gravitational pull.
Wait. Does he?
“What?” He’s staring down at me expectantly.
What did I tell him? I blink up at him like an idiot, and I’m extremely aware that I’m only still holding his wrist by the grace of his not having yanked it away. My fingers don’t even meet around the width of his bone and muscle. “Um, let’s see what’s in the ATM first.” That’s what I was going to say. I force a smile, and I release his hand.
