“The street won’t stay empty.”
“I don’t want to hurt her,” the angel said.
The older man scoffed. “She’s not important. Toss her in the back, and let’s go.”
This was wrong. So wrong. But she couldn’t think exactly what was off. She tried to speak and pain shot through her head, making her whimper.
A car door opened, and Jillian was floating downward. She winced when her hip hit the seat. Then the strong arms were gone, her head snapped back, and she shrieked in pain. The door slammed shut, hitting her in the back and folding her into an uncomfortable position.
The engine roared as the driver tramped down on the accelerator.
Jillian fought the darkness that crept in around her, but she couldn’t focus. Her vision was coming in chunks.
A graying head of hair in the driver’s seat.
A face she couldn’t place turning to look at her.
The angel.
Someone laughed. A laugh that could only be described as evil.
The black edging into her vision was winning, and her body melted lower into the cushion. The driver slammed the brakes, and she flew forward, slamming against the back of the seat.
“Hurry.” The man was agitated.
Sirens in the background, but far away.
“Help.” Jillian whimpered. “Ellie. What—”
“Ellie can’t help you now,” the older man said, sounding very pleased with himself.
Jillian blinked, trying to think through the pain. “You know Ellie?”
“Better than you do, apparently.”
Jillian frowned, fighting to stay awake, but she was losing the battle. Laughter taunted her as she descended into the darkness, unsure where the pain that battered her body came from. Something hot oozed over her face and down her arms, and the pungent smell of metal filled the small space.
I’m bleeding.
Eyes closing, she fought to hold on.
Help.
It was her last thought before the darkness won.
23
The petite blonde hurried out of the pet store to her car, balancing a giant dog bone in one arm.
“Keep up with her,” I said to Gabe, who drove the souped-up SUV I’d bought the day before. Reinforced and bulletproof, the windows were tinted just a hair shy of the legal limit, making it hard to see inside from any distance. It didn’t matter. Although the main streets were busy with lunch time traffic, the blonde was smart and headed down a nearly deserted side street.
We’d been waiting for the perfect moment, and very soon, the time would change over into perfection. The thirteenth hour, on the thirteenth day, of the thirteenth year since Ellie slipped from my grasp.
“Got it.” Gabe’s slender hands gripped the wheel, tense with excitement. From my place in the back seat, I could see his knuckles turning white. He was ready, body positively humming with glee.
I leaned forward, breath coming quick with anticipation.
Gabe turned down a road that ran parallel to the one Jillian was on, glancing quickly to the left at every intersection.
“Speed up and turn up there.”
“Yes, sir.” He shoved the accelerator down. The SUV rushed forward, smooth as a luxury sedan, and surprisingly quiet.
I grinned, putting my seatbelt on.
Gabe took the left turn with expert precision and floored it, flying down the empty side street, the light ahead of us just turning red.
Perfect.
Gabe didn’t slow down, his eyes locked on the road we were about to cross.
Jillian’s car came into view, and a laugh of pure joy escaped me. She was looking straight ahead, oblivious to the monster machine barreling toward her crappy car.
I braced myself for impact seconds before the sound of twisting metal and breaking glass drowned out every other sound.
My chest connected with the taut seatbelt as I was thrown forward. My head collided with the doorframe, sending shooting pain down my neck as my head snapped back.
Gabe cried out, the seatbelt doing little to stop him from hitting the steering wheel. The airbags were disabled so we didn’t waste valuable time waiting for them to deflate. I hadn’t warned him about the missing airbags, thinking it better that he not know ahead of time. Stunned, he sat there for a moment, blinking away tears before shifting into reverse.
Nestled behind the seat in the SUV that was reinforced like a tank, I shook off a momentary wave of fog.
Gabe slammed the gearshift into park, and I unbuckled as he left the engine running and raced toward Jillian’s mangled mess of a car.
I followed, happy with the precision of the hit. The driver’s door was largely untouched, broken glass the only noticeable sign of impact. The passenger side had taken the force of the crash, crumpling exactly as it was designed to and leaving Jillian’s door usable.
Gabe’s eyes flicked in my direction as I smiled and approached the car.
He opened her door and stepped out of my way. “The road’s clear.”
Knowing I could trust him to keep a lookout, I focused on Jillian. The airbag was a wrinkled mess of white fabric, a spot on her cheek already an angry red from the chemical that kept the material from cracking. Jillian’s head was against the headrest, each exhalation a moan of delicious agony. Blood streamed over her cheek from a wound on the left side of her head where it had connected with the window. It had happened so fast, I wondered if she had any idea what had transpired.
“Still clear.” Gabe’s voice was thin and high, his excitement almost palpable.
My own breathing was ragged in my ears, but I savored the moment as Jillian’s injury slowed her movements as she reached for her phone with maddeningly little progress. Licking my lips, I inhaled the sweet aroma of blood, motor oil, and fear.
“She’s hurt pretty bad.” Gabe, at my side, peered over the door at the woman.
“Put her in the back of the SUV,” I snapped at him and stepped back, watching his strong arms as he slid them under her. He lifted Jillian out of the mangled car and held her against
