We’re good. We’ve hunted before. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t quietly terrified that their advantage is bigger than anything we’re imagining.
Time stretches into gray highway and the low hum of the engine. Miles click by. The sky doesn’t brighten; it just shifts from one shade of lead to another. Talon dozes, wakes, and dozes again, his head knocking lightly against the window, Mark wedged between them like very unwelcome, very squishy cargo. Nathaniel alternates between staring out the glass and tapping patterns on his knee, like he’s thinking about the exact same things I am.
Cassian doesn’t relax, either. He stays stiff until, a few hours in, my bladder and my sanity both start sending polite but firm kill-switch warnings.
“I need a bathroom,” I say, my leg bouncing.
Cassian glances at the gas gauge. “We could use gas, too.” He flicks on the blinker. “There’s a station coming up.”
The exit creeps into view—a blue sign, a smaller road, a sagging gas station that looks like it’s been surviving on caffeine fumes and desperation for twenty years. Cassian pulls off the highway and into the cracked lot, parking near a pump.
One of the crows peels away to perch on the building’s sagging roof. The other lands on top of the flickering price sign.
Cassian kills the engine.
“Alright,” he says. “Fuel, food, bathroom. No one goes anywhere alone.”
He looks directly at me when he says it.
I lift my hands. “I know the drill. Buddy system, no wandering, no chatting with strangers in vans. I’ve been a woman for some time now.”
“Still,” he says. “Stay between me and Talon when we’re inside.”
Nathaniel adjusts his gloves. “I’ll pump the gas and watch the perimeter. Keep an eye out on Mark, too.”
We spill out of the car. Cold air knifes into my lungs, leaving a plastic-tasting chill behind. I ignore it and basically sprint toward the station. Talon falls into step beside me.
“Slow down, Little Grim,” he says.
“Can’t,” I snap. “Won’t.”
The bell above the door gives a sad little jingle when we step inside.
A woman behind the counter scrolls on her phone, chewing gum like it’s her job. She looks up, takes in the three of us, and then visibly decides she doesn’t care.
“Bathroom?” I ask.
She jerks her chin toward the back. “Key’s on the counter.”
Talon grabs it and flashes it at me. “C’mon.” He glances over his shoulder. “Cass, you coming?”
Cassian’s expression goes flat. “No. I’ll wait here.”
“What, are you fucking dumb? Come on, man,” Talon says.
I don’t know why, and honestly, I don’t care. Cassian’s bladder situation is his business. Besides, he’s a dude. He can pee just about anywhere without any inconvenience. I, on the other hand, actually need a bathroom.
I go in and leave them outside for just a moment. Just a moment. When I’m washing my hands at the sink and go to leave, the second I push the door open, I find them walking in after me, boxing me in.
“What’s up?” I ask.
My mind is already spiraling. There’s someone on us—orsomething. We need to hide in here and prepare for a fight. I don’t know. I’ve been running through every possible fucked-up scenario for the past couple of hours.
But no. That’s not what these two mean. Not even close.
“Hey, Skye,” Talon murmurs, leaning back against the door as it swings shut behind him. A finger hooks lazily around the keyring, the metal clinking softly. “Got a question for you.”
The way he looks at me sends heat crawling up my spine before I even hear the rest of it.
