I blink. “Ninja Turtle?”
He nods. “Donatello. There was a Ninja Turtle called Donatello, wasn’t there?”
I exchange a glance with Tristan through the rearview mirror. He looks as lost as I feel. “You lost me there, Apollo.”
The dragon shifter releases a disappointed sigh. “Forget it.” And he guides Tristan into driving down the empty road, then off we go, bumping and stopping and jerking. Tristan's not a fast learner. He's so scared of hurting us — of hurtingher— that his motions are stilted, and it's with great difficulty we reach a gas station, some miles away.
The place is tiny, just one pump and a small store with snacks and drinks. It reminds me of the one closest to my former pack lands. Dad would take Mei and me there whenever the pack’s truck needed gas. Apollo instructs Tristan on what to tell the cashier and how to operate the pump. The slim boy behind the cashier can't be older than twenty. He keeps sneaking glances at us, narrowing his eyes. As Tristan leaves for the pump, he follows him out, walking to us.
His eyes widen to saucepans when he sees Cassandra in my arms. "Um," he stutters, looking between us. "Is she alright?"
"She's alright, friend," Apollo says, waving it off. The cashier pales when he sees Apollo's blood-covered palm. "No need to worry."
"She doesn't seem alright," the boy goes on, his voice weak. "You don't seem alright too."
"Me? Never been stronger." Apollo's voice is steady, but the gray color of his cheeks is still there, and the blood covering every place he touches doesn't help. "We were in a minor accident. Nothing to fuss about. We just need a shower."
"If she's hurt, she should go to a hospital," the boy insists, closing his hands in fists. He would never win a fight against any of us, much less against the three of us together, even with Apollo wounded. But he's brave. He's standing up and facing us. "I don't know what you guys are up to, but this doesn't feel right."
Tristan appears behind him, shadowing us with his big body. The boy turns around to face him, trembling like a new leaf. "She's our mate," Tristan says as if that solves everything. I have to grind my jaw hard this time so I won't laugh. Yeah, I believe she might be Tristan's mate, but there isn't a way to prove it, so there's no point in saying it like this.
The boy shifts the weight of his body between his feet, clearly even more nervous than before. "Even so, I can't let you leave. Not when you're carrying an unconscious woman in the car. Gods know what you plan on doing to her!"
I bite on my lip because I do plan on doing naughty things to Cassandra, but only when she's awake.
"Tristan," Apollo roars, voice strained, at the limit of his patience. "Did you pay the boy?"
"I did."
"Then let's leave."
Tristan hurries to fill the gas then puts the pump away, rushing back to us. The boy keeps on mumbling, trying to stop him, finally halting in front of the driver's door.
"I can't let you leave!" he says with a fake firm voice that I admire. "I'll call the cops!"
"He's brave," I whisper to Apollo.
"Too brave," Apollo says with a sigh. He must be dying to get some rest, to patch himself up. Once we clean his wounds, the shifter blood will do the rest. At least if the wound isn't too deep. In that case, we'll be fucked.
Tristan picks the boy up, hands beneath the armpits, and just moves him away from the door, entering without another word. This time, I can't hold back the laughter. I crack up as Tristan drives off, still bumping around, and watch the boy's shocked face diminish in the rearview mirror.
"What?" Tristan asks, arching an eyebrow.
"You just moved him off like he was a scarecrow," I manage to say amid fits of laughter.
Apollo breathes a chuckle. "You better put your foot down, Tristan."
"Put my foot down?" Tristan looks at him with confusion all over his features. "Where?"
"I mean you should speed up," Apollo says, jutting a thumb over his shoulder. "The boy is definitely calling the cops on us."
Which means we're back on the escaping route. At least Cassandra's in my arms. If she's with me, then everything's fine. Even with what feels like everybody hunting us down.
CHAPTER 22
CASSANDRA
There's someone behind me. I can feel it. Darkness surrounds me, sinking into me, clinging to my tongue, my eyes. I can't see a thing, but I do feel the presence behind me. No matter how fast I turn, no matter how many times I look over my shoulder, there's still no one. No one here. Ever.