I rub my eyes, willing down another wave of nausea.
It wasn’t me. I didn’twantto do that. I can’t even say for sure I did.
But the knowledge pricks at the back of my mind: If I ever let that rage loose again, it will be my fault.
My guys have changed, and so have I, so maybe we’re not so different from each other after all.
I don’t want them seeing the thing inside me; I don’t want it ever coming out. But it’s possible I should have let them see more ofmeif I wanted them to trust me, instead of trying to prove myself with strength and stubbornness.
At the very least, I can admit that I’ve been wrong and that their quest matters to me too.
“I’m not a traitor, but I am sorry,” I say into the silence that’s fallen in the car, the words coming hesitantly. “I’ve been arguing with you all about going on this search for answers the whole time instead of just believing you that it was important.”
“No kidding,” Jacob grumbles.
I ignore his remark. “I can see—I can see why itisimportant. For you and for me. I’m not going to try to convince you against it anymore. I say we get to Ursula Engel and take back all the things people like her stole from us.”
“There,” Andreas says, his arm tightening around me. His light tone sounds a little forced. “Destination settled. Now, have I told you all about the woman I met who…”
As he spins his story to diffuse the tension hanging in the air, I close my eyes, and picture a future where this mess could all be just a memory too.
Eighteen
Jacob
The new car is the best we could nab in the short timeframe we were working with, but I don’t like it. The engine makes a periodic coughing sound, we need a whole minute to bring it up to full freeway speed, and one of the back doors nearly falls off its hinges every time we open it.
We also realize as soon as we set off in it that it’s only got about an eighth of a tank of gas, but at least that’s something we can fix.
I stand in the early morning darkness next to the pickup truck I found parked by a farmhouse, about a mile down the road from where we parked. At the tug of my mental energy, a steady current of gasoline flows past the open fuel cap into the large jug I’m filling for the third time.
My nose wrinkles at the cloying chemical smell. I breathe shallowly through my mouth until the jug is full, replace both its cap and the one on the truck, and set off toward our sort-of camp, lugging the sloshing weight.
Part of the reason we stopped was to crash for the night and catch up on our rest. I’ve only slept a couple of hours, but that’s okay. Keeping busy stops me from thinking about anything but the task at hand.
We’re not doing so badly. We destroyed the guardians who came after us. We ditched our former SUV in a lake where it vanished well beneath the surface, leaving no sign of us behind.
Now we’re another fifty miles farther away, down a winding path of several obscure country roads the guardians have no way of tracing us down.
At least, they shouldn’t.
The thought of how they found us at all is an uncomfortable niggling in the back of my skull. I scowl as I march through the grove of trees that shelters our camp from the road.
There’s nothing down the overgrown lane but a small, rusty storage shed that’s missing its door, but we didn’t need much.
Zian is keeping watch at the moment, leaning against the shed next to the doorway. He gives me a nod when I emerge from the trees.
Andreas is dozing in the back seat of the car. Dominic sprawls in the tipped-back passenger seat, the collar of his trench coat pulled up so it’ll shade his eyes when the sun peeks over the horizon.
I told Riva to take the shed. It’s the only spot with just one exit for Zian to monitor.
I ease open the fuel cap on our new junker and propel the current batch of gas into the tank by sheer force of will.
We should almost be full up after this. I’m hoping we can cross a couple more state lines before we have to do anything as blatant as stopping at an actual gas station.
The process only takes a couple of minutes. I tuck the jug into the trunk in case we need it again and step away from the car.
A light breeze washes over me and rustles through the leaves of the poplar trees looming over us. I amble a short distance away, drinking in the fresh air and the silence of the night.