Reykon ended his phone call and glanced over to her. “Stretch break.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Associates.”
She gave a bleak hum and turned back to the sun. A few moments later, she peeked, and found him staring at her arms.
When they made eye contact, he glanced away, and mumbled a “sorry.”
“What is it?” she asked, crossing her arms. “They’re just birthmarks.”
He paused for a moment. “Can I ask you a strange question?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Have they ever glowed?”
“Glowed?” she asked. “Like the green lantern?”
“Yes.”
“No,” she said in an irritated voice. “I know they look weird, but I was born with them. The doctors say they’re the weirdest ones they’ve ever seen, but they’re just birthmarks.”
“Do they go… all the way?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not trying to be weird, just curious.”
“I’m certainly not going to show you.”
“I don’t want to see, I just... never mind,” he said with a sigh.
She watched him take a couple steps over and kick at a few pebbles of gravel.
After a moment of watching his poorly concealed curiosity, she turned to him. “They go to my heart,” she replied.
He scowled.
“Like a lightning strike, leading out from my heart and fanning down my arms. It’s weird, I know. But I always have a great story for two truths and a lie.” She gave a shrug and leaned back against the car. “I guess it’d be cool if they glowed, but they don’t.”
He smiled at that, giving a nod and dropping the subject.
Robin glanced past him, to the road where she now saw three motorcycles approaching, in a triangle formation. They could have been random drivers, but something about the situation gave her pause. “Reykon…” she said softly.
He glanced over to the road and frowned. “Wait in the car.”
She only hesitated a moment longer before slipping into the car. The keys were out, but he’d left the windows cracked because she’d been asleep. She watched the approaching motorcycles in the rear-view, the rev of their engines getting louder and louder. They all slowed down and halted, ten feet from the car. The riders stepped off in tandem, one fluid movement, resembling black power rangers with their full-face helmets and leather gear (despite the 90-degree sunstroke).
They approached Reykon, who didn’t seem at all put off by the encounter. Robin’s heartbeat had crept steadily up. She wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t as though her circumstances could deteriorate.
The riders took their helmets off. Two women that looked like they belonged in a Michael Bay film rather than a rural road in Utah started forward, next to one man, a hulking brute, barely fitting onto his motorcycle.
“Reykon,” the taller woman said.
“Grida,” he replied, as smoothly as ever. He seemed completely calm.
The man spoke next. He stood nearly a foot taller than Reykon. “We were surprised to find you out here. Heard you were on some top priority call.”
“I am,” he replied.
“Who’s blondie?” the second woman grunted, making eye contact with Robin from the mirror.
Robin jumped, ripping her eyes away quickly.
“She’s for Magnus,” Reykon replied.
“We’re raiding a coven of deserters,” the man said. “Wanna tag along? Four’s better than one, for Magnus’s personal delivery.”
Robin felt a shiver creep up her spine.
“I’d love to,” Reykon said with a tight laugh. “But we’re on a bit of a schedule. He’s not the most patient Master.”
“You’re not kidding,” one of the women chuckled.
The other woman stepped forward. “Got some news for you.”
“Yeah?”
“We ran into Joasha at Cedar Rapids. She got word from that Strexos kid, the new one.”
“Tarnie?” Reykon asked.
“No,” the other woman interjected. “Bex.”
The taller woman snapped her fingers. “Right, Bex, the one with the hair, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Reykon said. “What was she doing in Iowa?”
“Some werewolf-vampire spat - who the fuck knows. Anyhow, on her way over there, she was stopped by that goth Draxos girl. The one everyone brags about.”
“Lucidia,” Reykon said dryly.
Lucidia? Robin thought. Her supposed sister, Lucidia?
“Yeah, her. Lucidia told Bex that she’s out for you. Said to make sure the word gets spread.”
“I figured as much,” Reykon admitted.
“Why’s she care?” the woman asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Something about the assignment. Could have to do with Master Darian.”
“Huh,” the brute grunted. “Anything to do with goldilocks?”
Robin bristled, scowling at the outline of them from the side mirror.
“Couldn’t say,” Reykon scoffed. “Maybe Lucie’s got a thing for blonds.”
The trio cracked into laughter and then it died down, as they looked up the road.
The taller woman sighed. “Glad we tracked you down. We won’t keep you.”
Reykon and the Brute shook hands and clapped each other’s shoulders.
A few feet away, the Brute turned back. “Hey, watch out for that Draxos girl. She’s stark raving mad.”
“Sure thing,” Reykon said. “Good luck with the deserters.”
“Won’t be too hard – they’ve been taking people from suburbs like kids at a buffet and leaving mangled corpses out to rot in the sun. Don’t exactly seem like big thinkers.”
Reykon huffed a laugh and then waved them off.
Robin watched their taillights, listening as the hum of their engines grew quieter and quieter.
Reykon walked over and slid into the driver’s side door, putting the key in the ignition. She eyed it, an opportunity, even though there was nothing she could do with it. She needed this bracelet off or dismantled before she could do anything that would result in her freedom. He silently pulled out two zip ties and began hooking them up.
“Those your friends?” she muttered.
“Not exactly.”
“They work for Magnus?”
“Yep.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?” she asked.
He let out a long breath. “I don’t trust them.”
“Why not?”
“They enjoy what we do too much. It’s a sport to them, and they’ll take reckless actions if they think it’ll end in a good story.”
She considered this while they pulled off, going further into the sparse Utah plains. After thirty miles or so, the sun had cooled off, dipping lower.
Robin turned to him. “Where are we stopping?”
“Grand Junction, Colorado.”
She glanced at the green reflective highway sign.
