Chapter 4
Cara huddled under the tarp, every bump and curve the truck took jarring her sore body. Her trembling fingers gripped the bolted down tire to keep herself steady. She didn’t even know whose truck she was in or where they were going.
Thoughts of her sisters’ safety were all that kept her occupied. Her body was in pain, though, and Cara was unused to the sensation.
Who could have the power to enter the Halls of Death? The power surge had been unexpected and supposedly impossible within the passage between worlds.
It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that going through the doorway had made her mortal. She knew her mother was probably furious, but would be unable to help.
She had no idea how long they had been driving before Cara felt the truck come to a stop. Making herself lie still despite her aching body, she felt the truck shake when the door slammed closed.
She tried to hear what was going on, but couldn’t with the tarp muffling any sound. Could they be at their destination? Or just stopping for something else?
Cara was familiar with humans’ movements, having visited earth many, many times.
Although she was tempted to take a peek from under the tarp, she was afraid of being seen. She would wait just a little longer, and then, if the man didn’t return, she would take a small peek.
Cara hoped Billy had known what he was doing when he had slipped her into the truck while no one was looking. She had heard the men searching the other truck not long after. She simply had to trust the man who had helped her when he had seen her lying unconscious on the side of the road. The young man had sat with her in his truck until she had quit shaking and could gather her strength.
It wasn’t every day that an immortal became mortal. The cold had been the worst, and her flimsy dress hadn’t made it much better.
His gentle soul had listened to her and believed her when she had told him how she had become lost. After he had listened, he had driven her to the local all night store and purchased warmer clothes for her. Cara was now dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, socks, and shoes. Along with the warm coat and gloves, she had finally gained enough warmth to quit shaking. After that, a drive-thru had provided her with food and her first taste of coffee. Thinking back, Cara could almost taste the warm silk as it had slid down her throat for the first time.
It hadn’t been long before an uncomfortable feeling had forced her to ask for help. With a red face, he had taken her to a small store to use the restroom.
When Billy had realized he was late for work, he had hidden her in the back of the truck, explaining she wouldn’t have to hide long. Apparently, if the men saw her, they would try to talk to her, ask questions that would make them all believe she was crazy as hell. Cara could understand his fear. She was lucky to have convinced him that she was in danger. Once he was done, he would take her to his home and help her find her sisters.
She had lain quietly until he had raised the tarp, motioning her to be quiet, before he had hidden her in the truck next to his. Before he had pulled the tarp over her again, she had noticed several cars pulling into the parking lot, and that along with the fear on Billy’s face hadn’t needed explanations. She had thought he would come back for her and only realized when the truck had begun moving that he hadn’t been able to.
Cara felt the truck shake with the door slamming once again. Then she felt the truck moving. The long drive seemed endless.
Cara began dozing. She didn’t know how long she had been asleep before she felt herself grabbed and pulled roughly from the truck.
Staring up into a furious face, Cara felt herself stifling a scream at the man standing before her. He was definitely no Billy. This man had not an ounce of gentleness or understanding in his body.
“What the hell!” Jericho didn’t need to be told that his hidden hitchhiker was the escaped mental patient. His palm slammed against the side of the truck. “Son of a bitch! I’ll kill him.”
Cara’s frightened gaze took in his fury, and she started to tremble in fear. He was over six-feet-tall, and his tan face and black hair seemed even darker against his grey-eyed stare. His muscles strained as if he had to hold himself in check from striking her.
Before she could open her mouth, he ordered, “Get moving.”
Without looking at her again, he moved to the back of his truck and started pulling out the wheel she had previously been curled against.
She watched as he moved the heavy wheel with little effort then walked to the side of the truck, sliding it on. Cara saw another already lying on the side with a deep gash.
When he was done, he picked up the flat one and threw it and some metal things into the back. Easily jumping up into the bed, he then bolted the damaged tire, placing the metal tools into a metal box before jumping back down.
Cara had not lost all her powers becoming mortal. She could still see the colors of people’s souls and the loved ones close by whom she had escorted to their afterlife standing by them. This man had neither. No one who had loved him had passed, or he hadn’t cared if they had. Even serial killers had mothers or fathers who had cared. He had no one.
She didn’t know what to say to this hard man. She had never dealt with one whose soul was so black. Usually, it was Grimm who was sent out to escort souls such as his.
With a last look at her, he walked to his door, got in, and drove off without looking back.
Cara’s mouth hung open. The rude bastard had just left her standing on the side of the road. She looked around and saw they were on a two-lane road with no other cars in sight. Cara didn’t know what to do, so she merely started walking, not understanding how she had ended up in this predicament.
Lost in her thoughts, she stumbled over a rock yet kept walking.
When Cara turned a corner, she saw the truck waiting a few feet ahead, and she quickened her steps before he could change his mind. As scary as he was, it was preferable to being alone.