“We are already in their trap,” Ilyan reminded her with a growl. He flipped his phone open and pressed it against his ear. “Ovailia,” he spoke the second someone answered the phone, “set a trail to the east; we are going to go to the north. Meet us at the second safe house.”
Ilyan did not wait for a response; he simply threw the phone to the side and turned the car around a sharp left-hand corner, followed by a quick right. My body flung around in the back seat like a rag doll, each impact sending more pain through me.
“What do you suggest we do when we come face-to-face with Edmund?” Wyn asked in a panic.
“We run.” Ilyan pressed the accelerator down all the way as we turned onto the large highway that cut its way through the city.
“Run?”
“Yes, Wynifred, we run. We fly. We save our lives. I can save the battle for later. There are more important things to face tonight.” They turned toward each other as a silent agreement passed between them. Ilyan turned back to the road again and increased our speed. I sat in silence, listening to their quick conversation, their infectious panic creeping into me.
“How far?”
“About two miles.”
“Find all the usable cars, trees, buildings; I need to know what I have to… dammit!” he swore, causing both me and Wyn to jump. The car decelerated, making my body lean forward.
“What?”
“They have a barrier up, so they can track us. Switch me places.”
Wyn didn’t say a word; she simply moved over to the driver’s side as Ilyan moved to the passenger’s side, the car never deviating a millimeter from the road.
“Pace yourself with as many cars as you can, and keep your speed steady,” he instructed, his accented voice filled with insane determination.
“Are you going to try to break through it?”
“No, I am going to demolish it.” Ilyan looked toward Wyn, his face filled with enjoyment or madness, I wasn’t sure which.
Wyn nodded to him once before accelerating, the force sending me against the back of the seat, Ryland’s necklace pressing against my chest.
The necklace was a white hot brand, flaming through me, the warmth pulsing hotter and hotter like the beat of a heart. It was more than just heat though; it was pain beyond my own: hate, love, fear, and excruciating heartbreak. None of the emotions were mine, but with that one touch, they filled me; they destroyed me. I couldn’t help it, the second it burned into me, my mouth opened in an agonizing scream. My voice ricocheted around the car, growing louder in the cramped space.
I heard Ilyan yell along with me as a bright light moved away from him through the window, only to explode against an invisible force that broke into a million pieces. As the wall broke, my scream continued, only silencing when Ilyan turned to clamp his hand over my mouth.
“You need to drive as fast as you can, Wynifred; they know exactly where we are.” He removed his hand from my mouth, and I instantly clamped my mouth shut.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly “The necklace… it’s in pain.” I didn’t know why I had said that, but the phrasing was right. The emotions that the necklace filled me with felt as if it was in severe pain.
Ilyan’s eyes grew wide, his jaw clenching. He looked over my head sharply as he looked for something. I could see his clenched jaw pulse angrily.
“Fast, Wynifred; they are both here.”
Wyn hit the gas, and we sped away from the cars we had been pacing with. All the cars became blurs as we soared by them, the black Mazda swerving in and out between the others on the highway.
“What do you think of your brilliant plan now?” Wyn grumbled as she cut in front of a yellow Hummer.
“Faster Wyn!” Ilyan screamed.
The words had no sooner left his mouth than Wyn swerved to the left, barely missing another car. Only a second after she had moved the car, an explosion filled the space we had just left. I turned my head to the side, the red and white of the fire filling the air.
The explosion sent a panic through the cars and drivers on the highway. Half the cars pulled to the side of the road in confusion or curiosity as to what had happened, while the remaining cars sped ahead in a desperate attempt to outrun the fiery blast. All the cars began to drive erratically; they paced and swerved, several cars ramming into each other in violent collisions that filled the road with the sounds of grinding metal, and shattering glass, and the smell of smoke that masked the magical onslaught around us.
I watched them as we moved, the car swerving around each accident as we weaved our way through the masses. I could see the fear on the other drivers’ faces; almost feel the palpable energy of the screaming men and crying women. I wanted to scream at them to run, beg them to find a way to get far away; they were all getting hurt, many of them dying, because of me.