I open my mouth to ask about Casey, about where Alek is taking him, but the question dies before it forms. Behind us, the treetops vanish in a pulse of orange light—silent first, the way lightning is silent, and then the sound arrives: a deep whump that I don’t so much hear as absorb.
No. no. no.
Was that the Jeep?
Casey. The explosion. An image of his body in the flames hits me so hard all the air leaves my lungs. My chest seizes, a band of ice tightening around my ribs.
“No!” The word is a raw scream, the nausea churning violently now, and Stark doesn’t get another warning before I start vomiting all over his shoulder and down his back. It soaks through his expensive shirt, making him smell like a night out gone wrong, but I don’t stop—can’t stop— until my stomach is completely empty.
Stark doesn’t slow, his movements impossibly fluid as he weaves through the trees. My brain scrambles to keep up, every event of the day crashing down at once as the sheer speed threatens to tear me apart. My stomach drops, my vision blurs, and my teeth rattle in my skull, and there’s no way to know when any of it will stop.
I close my eyes, the world narrowing to a thin ringing sound and the distant warmth of Stark’s voice: “Don’t worry Daisy, I’ve got you.”
Which would be a lot more reassuring if he weren’t currently carrying me through a forest at the speed of sound.
Chapter Twenty-Six
WHO ATE THE LAST SLICE?
The vamps are long gone with Kallie and her golden boyfriend by the time I manage to dispatch the rest of the feral fuckers who had made her their target.
I’m going to have to have a nice little chat with Stark about feral leeches attacking humans in his territory.
If I hadn’t shown up when I did…
Nobody appreciates how much work I put into being this helpful.
I knew there was a reason I needed to keep an eye on the brunette.
And it definitely didn't have anything to do with wanting another opportunity to run into her.
Or finding out if she tastes as reckless as she kisses.
Nope.
Purely professional.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I use my speed rune to sprint back to that prissy hotel castle for my bike. My phone already displays their location. I don’t trust that ancient vampire as far as I can throw him, so when I’d tossed him the keys to get Kallie clear, I’d also slapped a magnetic tracker onto the Jeep’s bumper. He never saw it.
I make it to the parking garage in record time—not as fast as the bloodsucking assholes, but close.
There’s no time to grab a helmet if I want to catch up to Stark, so revving my bike once, twice, I squeal the rear tire as I tear out into the nearby street, spooking some pedestrians with the loud obnoxious engine.
I weave through traffic, running a few red lights, but I don’t care. Now is not the time for subtlety. The Guild can give me a lecture about blending in later.
Again.
The thought makes me scoff.
Me. Blending in.
I give my phone a quick peek, seeing the location of the Jeep moving fast outside of the city, and lean down over the bike, feeling the vibrations all the way to my bones.
Come on baby. Let’s see what you got.
I push the motorcycle to its limits, the scenery a blur, and activate my reflex rune—enhanced responses won't hurt in a high-speed chase.
The wind whips through my hair, and I have to admit, going helmetless makes this whole chase feel more thrilling, the taste of danger potent.
