The reply came almost instantly.
Where are you?
I looked toward the fire.
Toward the fallen bike.
Toward the flashing lights and the rich kids screaming and the future I had just set on fire.
Then another message appeared.
Not from Regan.
From Edge.
Destiny. Answer me now.
The screen blurred again.
I pressed the phone to my chest and curled tighter behind the mesquite, shaking so hard the branches trembled around me.
For the first time all night, I didn’t feel like Mandy.
I didn’t feel like vengeance.
I didn’t feel like fire.
I felt seventeen.
Almost eighteen.
Bleeding in the dirt.
And desperate for my father to find me before the rest of the world did.
CHAPTER 2
DYLAN
The desert explodedten miles outside Santa Fe.
One second, the road ahead was nothing but blacktop, starlight, and the steady red glow of taillights from San Diego cutting through the night in formation.
The next, the horizon bloomed orange.
Not sunset orange.
Not bonfire orange.
Violence orange.
The kind of sudden, ugly light that punched upward into the dark and made every man on a bike sit taller.
I felt it in my chest before the sound hit.
Then the boom rolled across the desert.
Low. Heavy. Wrong.
