Pale Demon. Kim Harrison

to it, Trent slid back into his seat with a huff, the map in his hand.

      “Jenks, you got any ideas?” I asked as Trent buckled himself back in, and Jenks’s wings stilled even as a green dust began spilling from him.

      “Maybe Trent should have married the bitch,” he warbled, and I shifted into the far-left lane to get around a bus. Sure enough, they stuck with me, and my heart pounded. I couldn’t do magic and drive at the same time! Where the hell was Pierce when I needed him? No-o-o-o, the one time I have nonunion assassins behind us, I have a businessman riding shotgun trying to find answers in a friggin’ map!

      “That’s our exit,” Trent said, trying to look cool, but his grip on the map was too tight. “We’re sitting ducks on the expressway.”

      “Oh, thank you very much for that observation, Kalamack,” I said sarcastically. “You think we should get off the road. And then what?”

      “Just take South Memorial,” he said, his eyes on the map as he swayed to my swerving through traffic, earning beeps and flashing lights. “We can lose them on the surface roads more easily than on the expressway. Do what I say, and we’ll be fine.” But he was sweating. I couldn’t make a bubble—we’d drive right through it.

      Jenks darted down to land on the map in Trent’s hand as we flashed past the sign. “That’s the one you want, Rachel. Right lane. Right lane!”

      There was a big truck ahead of me in the far-right lane. If I slowed down to take the exit, the Cadillac would hit us. My fingers clenched and relaxed. Behind us, a new glow was starting in the car. I had to time this perfectly. “‘Do what I say, and we’ll be fine,’” I muttered through clenched teeth. “Surface streets mean we put the entire city in danger. We’re going to lose them right now.”

      “Rachel …,” Trent said, his voice tinged with anger and fear. “What are you doing?”

      “Getting onto Memorial,” I said, licking my lips. The engine roared as I pressed the accelerator, and my mom’s car leapt ahead. My heart pounded, and I darted around a white car on the right, then a blue on the right. Crap, this was going to be close. There was a weird prickling through me, but I daren’t look at Trent. It was wild magic, but I didn’t think it was from him. It was like the tracers that the earth sends up to the cloud before the lightning follows it down. The next hit wouldn’t miss. “Hold on!” I shouted, eyes wide.

      “Rachel!” Trent shouted, the chicken strap in his hand.

      “This is going to be close!” I yelled, and I jammed on the accelerator. The car bounced as we raced forward, and I yanked the wheel to the right at the last moment, skidding across all three lanes and onto the exit ramp. The semi blew its horn, but we were through and bouncing over the rough pavement, narrowly missing the cement wall.

      “Ye-e-e-e-e-ha-a-a-a-a!” Jenks shrilled, and I hit the brakes hard so I wouldn’t ram the car ahead of me. My heart was thudding, and we fishtailed. Scared, I looked to find Jenks in the back, face plastered to the window as he watched the traffic behind us. The awful prickling had stopped. Thank you, God. “They missed the exit!” he yelled. “They missed it! You lost them, Rache!”

      I looked across the seat to Trent, white faced. From behind us came a crunch of metal, and someone’s horn got stuck. My phone started to hum. Ivy. Where was my phone?

      “We lost them.” I breathed, then became worried. We had lost them, but what about everyone else? God, I hoped those people were okay. I was sure I’d seen a protection bubble on the bug, but at those speeds, it might not make a difference.

      Ahead of us, cars were slowing for the traffic light. “It’s red, Rachel,” Jenks said, and I slammed on the brakes, adrenaline making the motion too fast. Jenks yelped, and Trent reached for the dash, glaring at me. I couldn’t believe they’d tried to take us out on the interstate! I’d been under death threats before, but there were niceties to be observed, union rules. This wasn’t them!

      Silent, Trent folded up the map, tucking it away with precise motions. He looked calm, but I was starting to shake. “Nicely done,” he said and I almost lost it, my hands clenching the wheel until my knuckles were white. Nicely done? There were people hurt back there, and I felt a sudden surge of panic as three ambulances went by, headed for the interstate. Everyone in that VW bug was probably dead. And the truck driver. And the four cars behind him. The guy in the Jag was probably okay. Probably.

      My foot started to jiggle, and when the light turned green, I crept up on the car ahead of us, pushing it into moving. I wanted out of the car, like now.

      Jenks flew to the rearview mirror when Trent rolled his window all the way down to get rid of the scent of cinnamon and wine, and something in me eased as I turned right onto Memorial. He was shaken and trying not to show it. More sirens wailed, and Jenks landed on the steering wheel, giving me a worried look as a fire truck went by, headed for the on-ramp. People were hurt. Because of me? Trent? Did it matter?

      “We’re going to stop, right?” Trent asked, his eyes on Riverside Park as we passed it.

      “Why? Think you’ll get a better view of the accidents from up on top of the arch?” I asked sarcastically. This was way more than I’d expected when I agreed to escort him to the coast, and I was long past wishing I’d told him to shove his little problem and taken my chances by myself. My foot was shaking as I stopped at another light. The church was right next to us, and in a split-second decision, I turned the blinker on.

      “Okay,” I said as I glanced behind us at the flashing lights on the interstate. “We’re ditching the car. Get your stuff together.”

      “Ditching the car?” Trent stared at me like I’d said we were going to walk to the moon.

      “Right now,” I said as the light changed and I turned into the quiet parking lot, ignoring the DO NOT PARK sign. “You hear those sirens? We left the scene of an accident, one we helped make. There’s no way we can go back there, which makes this a marked car, and not just by your friends from Seattle. Soon as we find Ivy, she’ll carry your bag, Mr. Kalamack. Think you can handle it that long?”

      “First smart thing you’ve done all day,” Trent muttered, his fingers tapping.

      Jenks exhaled loudly, his wings an excited red as I put the car in park and turned the engine off. I was moving almost before the car stopped, gathering my stuff and jamming everything but the bag of trash into my bag, Trent’s sunglasses included.

      Trent was already out of the car, and I popped the trunk. My fingers trembled as I worked the door handle, finally getting the stupid thing open. Cool air slipped in, and the sound of kids. Damn, that had been close. What the devil were they putting in their coffee in Seattle?

      “Where’s my phone?” I said, hearing it start to hum. “Jenks, have you seen my phone?”

      Jenks darted to the floorboards. “It’s under the seat!” he said, then added, “It’s Ivy.”

      I stretched, reaching for it, exhaling loudly as my fingers found the smooth plastic. I wished my fingers would stop shaking. Jenks zipped out from under the seat, and flipping my phone open, I muttered, “I think we lost them. We’re abandoning the car. Where are you?”

      “From the sounds of the sirens, I’d say a couple of blocks away,” she said. “What’s going on?”

      “I wish I knew.” Getting out, I looped my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my coat and Ivy’s laptop. Jenks was a sparkle of dust as he searched the car, giving me a thumbs-up before he joined Trent. Trent already had our luggage out from the back, and he slammed the trunk shut hard, his hands going to his hips as he squinted at the busy road, the wind from the nearby Mississippi River shifting his shirt to show the familiar mark on his shoulder.

      “We’re at the church,” I told Ivy. “I got your laptop, and we’re going to walk in. Soon as we find you, we’ll head to your car.” Worry pinched my brow. “Ivy, they tried to kill us on the interstate. A semi tipped over, and I think they killed a carload