The car speeds through the night time city streets, but then we come to a road that’s blocked with traffic. I turn around again, the two warlocks and the witch are still coming at us, getting dangerously close now that the car has stopped. For a moment, I wonder if the people on the street can see them fly through the air, but then I remember what Finn told me about glamour.
“What should I do, sir?” asks the driver/bodyguard worriedly.
A small sigh escapes Whitfield. “Use the footpath,” he instructs. The driver nods and pulls the car up onto the path, causing pedestrians to dive out o
f the way. Lots of cars out on the road honk their horns at us, but we’re going too fast for me to pay much attention to them. My heart is in my throat as I consider the fact that the vampires could probably walk away relatively unharmed should we get into an accident. I, on the other hand, would not be quite so lucky.
Then there’s a loud bang on the roof of the car. It seems we’ve been caught up with. I look to the side to see the woman with the long brown hair peering in the window right at me as she glides along rapidly. She looks confused as to why I’m in the car with the vampires. Perhaps she can sense my magic and thinks that I’m a witch like her.
I give her a small shrug but I don’t think she notices, because now she is saying something and running her hand over the glass of the window. It begins to sparkle and glitter, and then the hard glass fizzles away as though it has been melted. Cold air gushes in the now non-existent window.
“Why don’t you stand and fight vampire?” says the witch, directing her question at Whitfield.
“I am doing you a service, little witch,” Whitfield replies calmly. “If we were to fight you would not come out of it well - or alive.”
“Care to test that theory?” A male voice chimes in from above, one of the warlocks is currently standing on the roof of the car. I wonder how he’s managing not to slip off at the speed we’re going.
“If you do not refrain from your pursuit I will murder every person you ever loved while they sleep in their beds,” says Whitfield, and judging from the hate in his words, I don’t doubt him. At the moment my hair is getting blown into my face since the car is doing well near 100 miles an hour and we’re currently minus a window.
The witch laughs, but I can see the grief in her eyes. “Too late for that bloodsucker, that was my sister’s throat you slit back there. And I’m sure you know just how ruthless an enemy can be when they’ve got nothing left to lose.” A lone tear falls down her angry face, but the wind blows it away.
It makes me feel so completely horrible, because I’m thinking that I’m definitely on the wrong side of this fight. Not that I had much choice in the matter, since Ethan practically threw me into the car. I may not be a witch myself, but the magic in me has me feeling a connection to the three people pursuing Whitfield’s shiny black car.
We’ve left the city now, and are currently on the motorway leading to various suburban destinations. I wonder what would happen if one of the other drivers on the road happened to see past the glamour shielding the witch and the two warlocks. A collision would surely ensue. The witch grabs a hold of the side of the glassless window, and Eliza’s fangs extend along with a gut curdling hiss that slithers past them.
“Get your hands off the vehicle,” she warns.
The witch grins, clearly happy to have pissed Eliza off. The driver pulls abruptly away from the motorway and circles a roundabout that leads to an empty, dark country road. All I can hear now is the roar of the engine and the rustle of leaves from the trees on either side of the road. Eliza and Whitfield’s attentions are focused on the witch, who is now reciting some sort of incantation. Whitfield slides closer to the window and grabs the witch’s chin with his claw like hand. Rapidly he pulls it back as it sizzles and burns. The witch laughs.
“Your little spells will not protect you for long,” he threatens.
Eliza screams in outrage. Clearly she doesn’t like witches hurting her precious father.
I turn a little to face Ethan. “You should have left me at the club,” I tell him through a clenched jaw. I’m not at all happy to be caught up in this fight.
“Don’t be stupid Tegan, the magic wielders would have taken you hostage.”
I’m about to disagree, because the one eyed witch had obviously planned on helping me find Dad. A brick settles itself in the pit of my stomach as I realise that’s not going to be happening now. But then I think of the woman holding onto the car window, she said the dead witch was her sister. Hope seizes me. Perhaps she knows something about Dad too. I have to figure out a way to make sure that Whitfield doesn’t kill her in this stupid dual they have going on.
I’m suddenly hyper aware of Ethan’s arms folded tightly around my waist. “I hate you right now,” I tell him, unsure of where my anger springs from. I hate how he can make me forget what he is when he touches me. Then I remember that I’m supposed to be trying to get back into his good books and regret what I’ve said. I’m no good at acting.
“I can work with hate,” he answers with a challenge, his eyes hard.
“I don’t doubt that,” I whisper, and abruptly the car swerves and I hear the sound of metal bending and crunching. One of the warlocks has torn the driver’s side door right off. God, I’ll have to get Rita to teach me how to do that sort of spell. Ripping metal from metal must surely come in handy at some point in a person’s life.
The warlock pulls the vampire driver out of the car and throws him onto the road. Oh crap. The car slides off the road and rams through several trees and bushes. Everything happens so quickly that I barely have time to register what’s going on before I hear the sound of the car crashing into water. Liquid spills in through the missing window and door and begins to rapidly fill the car. It’s only now that I realise we’ve sped off the road, through a ditch, and crashed into some kind of a lake or river.
My entire body is drowning and I can barely keep my head above the water in the sinking vehicle. I glance about to see that Whitfield, Eliza and his remaining bodyguard have already gotten out. Liquid fills my nose, causing my sinuses to burn and my throat to spasm frantically. Hands slip around my shoulders as I struggle to breathe, and then I feel myself being pulled upwards.
I hold firmly onto Ethan as he drags me out the window and up to the surface. His arms circle me as we breach the suffocating water and I gasp for air. His dark blond hair looks almost black since it’s soaking wet. It hangs over his face. Now he’s putting his hands on either of my cheeks and peering at me as if to check if I’m all right. I can’t speak because I’m still in shock. It seems like mere seconds have passed since we were secure in the car back out on the road.
Ethan nods ever so slightly, as though deciding that I’ll survive. Then he begins swimming backwards with one arm, the other around my waist, pulling me along with him. It’s only now that I have the opportunity to look around and see that the car had actually crashed into a small lake. Ethan helps me up onto the grass and moss, and the cold air hits me, especially now that my clothes are soaked through. I stand up on wobbly legs. My coat feels like it weighs a tonne, so I shrug out of it.
My black dress is completely stuck to me, it clings tightly to my body as water drips down my legs. Oh well. At least I haven’t drowned. There’s a groaning noise as Whitfield’s town car disappears under the water. What a waste of money that was, although I’m sure the Governor isn’t strapped for cash to replace it.
Speaking of Whitfield, he’s currently leaning against the bark of a tall tree. Eliza is fussing over him to make sure he’s not injured. His bodyguard is standing off to the side, scanning the area to see where their enemies have gone. The other bodyguard who’d been driving the car and got thrown out runs up to us now, there’s a gash on his forehead that’s already healing.
“Bastards,” he wheezes. Whitfield’s cold gaze cuts into him, as though reprimanding him for allowing himself to be overpowered by a warlock. Then those caramel eyes land on me. Chills seize me, but they’ve got nothing to do with the temperature. A few seconds pass.