Hal’s expression was priceless. Then he gave a rueful shrug. “All right. I trust you. And I’ll heal faster if I rest. But wake me up the second you think anything might be wrong, okay?”
“I will.” Ellie bent down and kissed him. “Sleep like a... bear. Do werebears hibernate?”
“My grandpa might. Hard to tell.” He drifted off before she could ask him if he was joking.
She sat and watched over him, sometimes stroking his soft hair. The moon shone through the clouds and snow, casting a pale light.
Ellie had so much to think about, it was easy to stay awake. Werewolves and other were-creatures were real. Dragons were real. Hal could turn into a bear. It was all impossible and amazing, miracles come to shaggy-furred life.
But none of it was more marvelous than the rise and fall of Hal’s chest beneath her hand. He was alive, and he loved her. And she loved him. Nothing could be more of a miracle than that.
Chapter Seven
Hal
Ellie spoke in an urgent whisper. “Hal!”
Hal woke in a flash, instantly aware of where he was and what had happened. He prevented himself from jumping up by sheer force of will; the last thing Ellie needed was for him to pass out again. But he did snatch his gun out of the holster. “What’s happening?”
“I’m not sure.” But her voice was low; something had alarmed her. “I heard a car coming, from the direction of Santa Martina. It pulled off the road and parked somewhere pretty far behind us. I’d only just started to hear it when I heard it stop.”
Hal was calculating the odds of staying in the car, which was armored and bulletproof, versus leaving it, when Ellie went on, “But it’s probably not Nagle’s guys. I’ve heard other cars pass. If anyone saw us, they probably would have pulled over to see if we need help. I don’t think we’re visible from the road.”
At her words, Hal suddenly understood exactly what was going on. He knew who was in the car, how he and Ellie had been tracked, and how the hit men had learned where he’d lived. And he knew, too, why they’d waited till the middle of the night to go after him and Ellie.
“Open the driver’s door, just as far as you need to so you can get out,” Hal whispered urgently. “Leave your purse. Crawl out, then crawl on your belly toward the woods, as fast as you can. I’ll be right behind you. Go!”
To his relief, she didn’t hesitate. She was out the door in a flash, wriggling through the snow like a boot camp recruit in an obstacle course. Hal got a good grip on his gun, then followed her.
The snow was painful against the half-healed wounds in his side, the air in his lungs shockingly cold. The moon had set, and even his sharper-than-human vision could barely make out a thing. He caught up with Ellie and tugged her along, dragging her through the snow faster than she could go by herself. His heart pounded. He had no idea if they’d been seen leaving the car, or how long they had to get away if they hadn’t.
The forest rose up before them like a black wall. Hal hauled Ellie into its shelter, then stopped and turned back. The car they’d left was visible as a black silhouette in a field of white.
BOOM!
The explosion shattered the still of the night. A blast of hot air buffeted him as the car blew up in a fireball. Ellie gasped, but there was no way anyone farther than him could hear anything over the roar of flames.
He reached out until he found her lips, and put his finger across them, feeling its softness and her nod; she understood. Then, to his immense relief, he heard the sound of an engine turning over, and a car speeding away. No figures attempted to creep across the field of snow.
“They’re gone,” Hal said. His voice sounded shockingly loud in his own ears. “They think we’re dead.”
“What was that?” Ellie gasped.
“An RPG— a rocket-propelled grenade.”
“Did you know that would happen?”
“Sort of,” he replied. “I figured out a lot of things in a flash, when you told me about the car. They waited till the middle of the night and parked way back because they were going to do something really spectacular— something they could only get away with if no one was around. If we can’t be seen from the road, then they had to have tracked us here. When you were at the police station, did they take anything that belonged to you and then give it back?”
“My purse.” Ellie stared at him. “Was it bugged? Are the cops in on it?”
“Maybe just one cop. But yeah, I think someone stuck a tracker in your purse. Now I feel like an asshole, suspecting my own team.”
“I’m glad it’s not them.”
Heartfelt, Hal said, “Me too. I owe them.”
“I owe you,” Ellie said. “You saved my life. Again.”