My fingers gripped the back of the chair. “We’re out of options.”
I could see the apology on his face, but he was unmoved. “Marlow, there’s a reason every passage that showcases the arrival of angels starts withbe not afraid.Amplify that by going down a crowded highway at top speed.”
I pushed. “If we crash, you can save us. You’re an angel.”
Frustration furrowed his brow. “I’m doing all I can to keep us under the radar, and you want a highway miracle?”
I growled against the handtied feeling of my own helplessness as I spun toward my oldest friend. “Kirby, please, just listen.”
“I’m listening,” Kirby said with the same infuriatingly calm, placating tone. The blinker ticked quietly in the background as they nudged into the right lane. We were two exits from the nearest emergency room.
“I can prove it to you, but he’s worried that it will scare the shit out of you and cause you to crash the car. If I have undeniable evidence that I’m not insane, you have to give me a chance to show you. And we don’t have the time to spare for you to safely escort me to some hospital parking lot and hash out the details. There’s too much at stake. I get it, you’re trying to be a good friend, but—”
From the back seat, Silas said, “The rambling is not making you look saner.”
I began to bark at him but bit my tongue. Our eyes locked, the vibrant halos of his golden irises burning into me with a warning. He was right. The more I interacted with him, the worse I looked.
I focused on Kirby. “Listen, Kirbs: You’re about to get a jump scare. I’m not going to undersell it. But just like in a horror movie, if you know it’s coming, it’s easier to handle. It’s a raven hitting the window. A bat flying out of the attic. A cheap trick for adrenaline. Don’t be afraid.”
Unimpressed sarcasm came from over my shoulder as Silas said, “Damn. You misquoted our most famous line.”
Anxiety and regret and helplessness boiled into a glare. My eyes were slits as my gaze bored into him. “Could you please be normal? For like, ten seconds? Don’t say dumb shit. Don’t even speak. Don’t—”
“Go ahead, human, tell me more about the best way to do this. You’re the expert.”
I threw up my hands. I wanted to fight the air. I was too frustrated to fixate on any one emotion. No one was taking me seriously, even though the clock was ticking and the fates of everyone I cared about hung in the balance. I hated that Silas was being this way—then again, I hated that I’d expected any differently. Caliban would have never condescended tome like this.
It was as if my broken heart seeped blood into my chest cavity. My need to shove Caliban away after everything that had transpired wounded me.
But I wasn’t just hurt. I was angry.
Venom replaced pain, fury coursing through my veins as my mind flitted to Fauna. My friend, my confidant, someone I loved, was just using me. The chaotic blur of sugar and freckles wasn’t my friend. She was a manipulative goddess of the End Times, toying with me to bring about her purpose.
I hated knowing she would have been as great with Kirby now as she’d been over their video chats and skunky bongs, but it would have been a lie.
The anger subsided, and my heart was broken once more.
Everything hurt. I also ached at knowing Betty was in some cold hospital and that I was the reason she was there, rightfully drawing whatever loyal, protective fury Azrames possessed. And I’d sided with the belligerent, difficult angel. This asshole was the one who’d have to help me with Nia and Kirby, and he was being a piece of shit.
A tunnel swallowed us as we entered the city. Amber lights populated the space, barely illuminating the road. Red brake lights glowed in front of us. The summer heat of unventilated tunnels and hot engines pressed in on us. Musty scents of exhaust and vapors seeped in through the tiny cracks in the car as we idled. Kirby glanced between the lanes as all around us, traffic turned to its sludgy, five-o’clock crawl. Daylight was just around the corner, but how long it would take us to round the bend was anyone’s guess.
“Great,” they muttered. I didn’t miss how they glanced at the locks.
“I’m not going to jump out,” I said, “but you might. Can you put it in park?”
The standstill traffic allowed them to turn and regard me fully. “We could move any second. Please don’t—”
“That’s right. It’ll get moving, and then we take the exitright after the tunnel and double back to Nia’s. You’ll believe me in a moment. Just after the count of three. Please. Just count to three.”
I watched the internal debate as Kirby weighed the pros and cons of appeasing someone in manic psychosis. They weren’t wrong. We’d bonded over intergenerational mental illness for our entire lives. We’d taken depression naps, talked each other off anxiety cliffs, and I’d picked them up from their first inpatient stay with a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed horse. They were doing everything right. They loved me, and I loved them. And right now, all they knew was that they needed to keep me calm.
Kirby put the Jeep in park. With utmost reluctance, they began to count.
“One.”
I turned and nodded at Silas.
“Two.”
He grimaced at me, braced for how poorly this was bound to go.
“Three.”
