Aspen glances in the rearview mirror. “Believe it or not, that POS may be able to outrun us.”
I jerk around to look at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That car couldn’t outrun a wheelchair.”
“Actually, it has a similar engine as this car, and it’s lighter. So yeah, it could.”
“Just drive, woman,” I snap, noticing how fast their headlights are gaining on us.
Aspen doesn’t say anything. When I turn back around, I notice her gloved hands are gripping the wheel tighter than before.
“What are we going to do?” Annabelle whispers.
Aspen switches on the radio and flips the stations until she finds what she’s looking for.
“What are you doing?” I yell. “Stop messing around.”
Heavy, grinding rock blasts through the speakers as Aspen pushes the car faster. “We can’t outrun them. Not even with me driving. But we can keep pace for a while. Long enough.”
“Long enough for what?” Charlie says. Her voice is even and controlled, and I can’t help staring at her, wondering how she can be so calm.
“To get back to my house,” Aspen says.
“The cabin? “ Blue asks.
“No.” Aspen turns the volume up.
“We’re going to drive all the way back to Denver?” I ask, watching the headlights behind us, steady in their pursuit. “That’ll take almost an hour.”
“It won’t take near that long,” she says over the music. “And in the meantime, you guys can tell me what I’m running from.”
17
Gone
The car rushes forward as Aspen awaits our response.
Blue and I stare at each other, and finally, he shrugs. So I tell Aspen what we are. I tell her about Trelvator, and how these guys want to steal Charlie’s soul from me, and that I came to Denver on assignment to liberate her soul.
I tell her everything.
At first she doesn’t believe us. Then Blue shows her his shadow, and when his body vanishes, Aspen nearly runs off the road. In retrospect, it may not have been our most brilliant plan.
“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” Aspen says when I finish talking.
“Just keep driving.” I look behind us and notice the headlights of the Kia Rondo are still visible. But despite Aspen’s earlier doubt, she’s managed to put some distance between the two cars.
“So these guys want Charlie’s soul?” Aspen clarifies.
“Yeah,” I say. “But when we asked them, they said their orders were to get Charlie to hurt herself, which doesn’t make sense, because if the collectors don’t have her soul, then why would they risk her dying before they got it back?”
Blue glances at me, worry creasing his brow. He looks away before I can question his expression.
“Maybe they thought if she got injured, I’d return to Alabama, and they’d snag her soul then. ’Course, that doesn’t make sense, because they could come after me here in Colorado.”
I say all this while staring at Blue. He turns even farther toward the window until it seems like he’s trying to hump the passenger door.
Every muscle in my body clenches as I say, “The only other explanation would be if I didn’t actually have Charlie’s soul.”
Blue turns and meets my glare.
“And that Salem and his brother,” I continue, “were trying to get Charlie to kill herself. Because if they already have her soul, that’d be a great way to bring in her body next. No blood on their hands, nothing Big Guy can complain about, and hell gets what it wants—an end to Trelvator and a big screw-you to the god who ordained her birth.” I finish my speech but keep my gaze locked on Blue’s face. Despite a lump building in my throat, I manage to squeeze out, “How am I doing here?”
Blue holds my stare for a moment longer. Then his eyes drop to the floor.
I press back against the seat. Dark spots swim before my eyes, and the only thing that keeps me from losing it is Charlie’s hand wrapped around mine.
Concentrating on breathing, I say, “I don’t have her soul.”
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you,” Blue says.
“When did you find out?” My free hand curls into a fist. Though I’m shocked to hear the truth, I always wondered about the sensation of Charlie’s soul inside me. I knew something felt off. Souls are difficult to detect inside a collector’s body once collected, but I always thought I’d perfected the skill of knowing. Flashing back to the airport before I left Alabama, I remember Valery making up lame excuses for why I couldn’t check her soul into heaven yet. I suppose being misled and wishful thinking went a long way in this situation.
I also suddenly remember the night I faced off with Rector and the other collectors, how Rector briefly pressed his chest to mine before fleeing.
How could I have been so stupid?
My anger needs an outlet, so I turn to Blue.
He licks his lips and hesitates like he’s afraid to say the wrong thing. “Valery told me right before I came here. She said my assignment had changed. That I was supposed to keep Charlie safe and…”
“And what?” I growl.
Blue eyes the back of Aspen’s head. “And ensure you finish your assignment.”
I grab him by his collar, thinking I’d very much like to tear his cuff off with my teeth.
“Valery said it’s imperative that you liberate Aspen’s soul,” Blue fires out, his eyes wide. “She used that word, imperative. She also said that Big Guy needs you for something important. Something huge. And once you complete this assignment, he’ll know he can trust you. ”
“And how am I supposed to do that when these guys”—I jab my thumb toward the car speeding after us—“are trying to kill off Charlie?” The moment I say this last line aloud, I let go of Blue. Because now all I’m thinking is that Charlie is in the car. And that Charlie is probably just now learning all of this.
I turn toward her and notice her eyes are focused on nothing at all. She’s gripping my hand so hard, I can feel my pulse in my palm.
“Charlie?” I whisper. “Did you know?”
She shakes her head no but doesn’t look at me.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” I try to tilt her chin so that she faces me, but she holds still. “Do you hear me? I’m not going to let them lay a single finger on you. So help me, even if I have to—”
“Let me out,” Charlie whispers.
“What?” I say.
“Don’t be stupid,” Annabelle adds through clenched teeth. Guess she’s also pissed at Blue for keeping secrets from us.
“Let me out,” Charlie says again, louder.
I grab her other hand and press both between my own hands. “You don’t understand. They were trying to get you to kill yourself. And now they might just do it themselves. So, no, you can’t get out of the car. I won’t let you.”
Charlie looks directly at me, and in her eyes I see a blue fire raging. “I won’t sit here while the rest of you risk your lives for me,” she says in a voice I’ve never heard before. She sounds daring, reckless even. “Let me out of this car.”
And in that moment, I’m afraid Charlie will get her way. That she’ll throw herself onto the rushing pavement if it means her friends are safe.
It’s Aspen who speaks next. “Can it, chick. If you’re really able to bring a hundred years of peace to this hellhole, then this isn’t just about you. Got it?”
Charlie’s head whips in Aspen’s direction. She stares at her for a long time. And finally, after I feel like I’ll burst if she doesn’t react, she turns slowly toward her window.
From the corner of my eye, I see Aspen slump in the driver’s seat, like she’d been holding her breath and just now released it. “Imperative,” she whispers.
“Is it just my imagination,” Blue asks, “or are they catching up to us?”
I look out the rear window and decide that, yeah, it does appear they’re closer. “Aspen, are we—”
“We’l
l be there in five minutes.” Aspen grabs her phone and texts something. It’s a miracle she can do this while driving nearly a hundred miles an hour. It’s a miracle this POS rental car can even go a hundred miles an hour. She puts her phone away, and, true to her word, I notice soon after that we’re nearing her house.
But there’s a problem. Before, we had empty roads to sail along. Now we’re entering the city, and even at one o’clock on a Friday morning, there are other cars Aspen must weave between.
“Here’s how it’s going to work,” Aspen announces. “At the entrance of my family’s house, I’m going to haul ass out of this car, and Blue, you’re going to jump in my seat and drive.”
“You’re ditching us?” Annabelle says.
Aspen glances at her. “Would you blame me?”
Annabelle shakes her head, her face white.
Aspen smiles. “We’re almost there. Blue, you ready?”
Blue looks over his shoulder. “They’re really close.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Aspen says. “I’ve got it covered.”
I look at Blue. “I’ll drive,” I tell him. “You just sit tight.” I don’t know what Aspen plans to do, but I know I need to get Charlie out of here, and if Aspen wants to jump ship she’ll do it eventually. I can’t stop her. I didn’t really expect her to bail on us, but she got us this far after knowing we lied about who we were. And that’s more than most people would do.
As we get closer to Aspen’s street, a truck parked right outside the entrance comes into view. Aspen slows just enough to make the turn, and when she does, Lincoln sticks his head out the truck window. Guess that answers the question of who Aspen was texting earlier.
Lincoln releases some sort of war cry, and I only have time to notice the lunatic grin on his face before we race past. Then he kicks his truck forward and blocks off the street.
I laugh watching this, though I’m kind of worried what Salem and Easton might do to him. Then again, maybe he can take care of himself. In fact, I’d put money on Lincoln winning almost any fight. When you got enough psycho in you, it isn’t hard.
“Get ready,” Aspen yells. “We’re almost there.”
And then we’re stopping.
Aspen lunges out of the car and races toward her house.
Before I can make a move, Blue shoves me back and leaps into the front and presses on the accelerator.
“Damn it, Blue,” I say.
But he’s not hearing me. He turns the car around for some unknown reason, and since this private street is only one way, he punches on the gas to greet Salem and Easton once again. But before we get going too fast, Charlie jumps out of the car.
Blue slams on the brake and even Aspen turns around in confusion as Charlie rushes toward her. Her concern quickly changes to acceptance, though, and she waves us on. “Get out of here,” Aspen calls out.
Blue hesitates long enough for me to open the door, because there’s no way I’m leaving Charlie behind.
“Trust me!” Aspen screams.
And Blue does.
The car lurches forward, and I’m thrown back in my seat. I nearly lose my fingers when the door bangs shut.
“Stop driving, asshole!” I yell.
Even Annabelle looks like she’s not sure if he’s doing the right thing. She also looks too scared to speak.
“Stop the damn car,” I repeat.
Blue sets his jaw. “We have to take out Salem and Easton.”
I think fast. “Yeah, okay. Let Annabelle out. We have Lincoln now,” I say, even though Blue doesn’t know who Lincoln is. “We three can overtake them.”
Blue shakes his head and the speedometer rushes upward. “No. We’re going to plow right into them.”
“What?”
Annabelle slams her palms onto the roof. “I don’t want to die. I can’t die. I’ve never been in love. I’ve never even had sex. I can’t die sexless.”
Blue nods. He nods so hard, I’m sure he must pull a muscle in his neck. “We’re going to take them out. Right. Now.”
Lincoln’s truck and the Kia Rondo are pushed together like they’re kissing. Black smoke blossoms out from behind the truck’s tires, and I realize Lincoln is trying to force their car back. I consider grabbing the wheel to get Blue to stop. But then I think about Charlie and Aspen back there, safe, and how I don’t want them touched by these guys. Also, how I wish Annabelle were safe with them, too.
“Let Annabelle out,” I say calmly.
“Yeah, let me out,” Annabelle says, her voice shaking.
“No,” Blue barks and drives faster.
“Blue!” Annabelle says. “Please. Please, I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to—”
“Turn right,” I scream. “Don’t hit them, Blue. There’s an opening on the right side. Take it! Take it! Blue, trust me like you did Aspen. Take it! Now!”
Blue hesitates, then jerks the wheel to the right just in time. We brush past Lincoln’s truck and blast through the black clouds. And seconds later, from outside the back window, I see what I saw before—
A car.
A different car.
It’s sleek. It’s yellow.
It’s a Ford Shelby GT 500.
And it’s driving toward us, growling like a fucking grizzly bear. Aspen is behind the wheel, and Charlie’s in the passenger seat.
“Pull over,” I yell.
Blue screeches to a halt. We scramble for the sports car, opening doors and closing them.
Aspen slams on the accelerator.
And we’re gone, baby.
We’re gone.
18
Kissing a Demon
We drive for several hours before we’re sure we’re not being followed, and before our nerves are calmed. Then Aspen pulls into a hotel and rents us rooms for the night—or morning, really.
We decide we’ll sleep for a few hours, then get back on the road. We’re headed for Peachville because we can’t think of anything better to do than to find Valery and Max. Power in numbers and all that. Annabelle encourages me to call Val, but I know Blue already has, and I don’t feel like dealing with Red tonight.
Now, as I fall back onto my bed, the weight of everything that’s happened fills me like lead. All this time I never had her soul. Big Guy had to suspect the collectors would come for Charlie’s body next. So why send me on assignment? Blue said my assignment, liberating Aspen, is vital. He said I’m being tested for something big. But what could be more important than keeping watch over Charlie?
Charlie.
I’ve barely had a single moment alone with her since she arrived at Aspen’s cabin. And even though I’m exhausted and starving, all I want to do is be alone with her. But first, I need to talk to Aspen. Once I make sure she’s going to stick around, I can focus on Charlie.
Outside Aspen’s room, I wait for her to open the door. But she never does, even after I’ve knocked several times. Then I shake my head, because I know exactly where she is.
I walk across marble floors to the elevator and take it to the first floor. And there—in the corner of the bar, surrounded by a cloud of smoke—is Aspen. As I get closer, I notice she’s swiped a blue bottle from behind the counter and has it clutched beneath the table. I slide in next to her.
“Care to share?” I say.
Aspen hands me the bottle without speaking. I take a small sip, and my chest warms. Handing it back to her, I let my hand linger on hers. But she still doesn’t turn and look at me.
“Everybody wants something from me.” Aspen squeezes her eyes shut. She’s wearing the blue eye shadow again. “That’s what Lincoln always tells me.”
“Aspen—”
“But my soul?” she says, wincing. “You want my soul?”
I take my hand away. “It’s for heaven. Most people want that.”
Aspen’s green eyes flash. “That’s not the way it’s supposed to work, dead people walking around sealing souls. You’re supposed to live, and then you go in the dirt.” She swal
lows and looks down at her cigarette. With her mouth turned down and her brow lined with thought, she looks more like a woman than a seventeen-year-old girl. “How does it work? Have you sealed me already?”
I nod. “Once. When you flew Charlie up to see me. That was selfless.” I run my hands over my jeans. “I could do it again now. It’d be right after what you did for us back there. Getting us away from Salem and Easton like that? It was amazing.”
“Don’t you dare,” she snaps.
My back stiffens. “Aspen, you want to go to heaven when you die, because the other alternative isn’t good. Trust me.”
“Just don’t.” Aspen takes another drag, then stubs out the cigarette in a plastic ashtray. She looks in my direction. “You can’t walk away from the things you’ve done. If you’re a bad person, you stay bad. There’s no redemption for the wicked, Dante Walker.”
I pull away from her, stung silent. Then I pull in a long breath, because everything has suddenly become clear. “What did your father do to you?”
Her eyes flick up. “Screw you.”
She rises to get up from the table, but I grab her wrist. “Why do you keep those music boxes?”
“Because I like them,” she retorts, pulling back.
I hold tight. “What about the checkerboard?”
Her eyes burn with anger, scorching my insides. I can almost feel heat where I touch her wrist.
I glance at the necklace she wears, the one without the charm. “Did he give you that necklace?”
Aspen rears back and slaps me hard across the face. I let go of her wrist. She spins on her heel to flee, but she only gets a few feet before slamming into Charlie.
Charlie’s several inches shorter than Aspen, but right now she looks regal. Aspen stops, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but she doesn’t try to dodge Charlie. She just stands there, waiting.
And I do, too.
Slowly, Charlie reaches out. The look on her face isn’t one of sympathy. It’s one of compassion. Her fingers find Aspen’s hands. When I look again, Charlie’s removing Aspen’s fingerless gloves.