Pure Blooded

“Don’t ask,” Marcy said from the front. “It’s better for everyone that way.”

 

 

James revved it up, and it did the opposite of purr. It sounded more like a junkyard dog scrabbling for his next meal in a bunch of tin cans. Rourke and I were in the last row and I immediately lay down, sprawling out on his lap. It was a twenty-seven-hour drive in human time. But James would break the speed limit by a good fifty miles an hour and Marcy would make sure no cop stopped us.

 

 

 

I flew off Rourke’s lap, my body hitting the seat in front of me, before the van skidded to a stop. James’s outraged bellow followed one second later, and we were all instantly wide awake.

 

I scrambled back onto my seat, Rourke leaning down to assist me. “What is it, Irish?” Rourke called. He made sure I was fine and then maneuvered himself toward the van’s side door. “Did you hit something? Or is something out there?”

 

“I didn’t hit anything,” James said. “The van just died. On its own. It was all I could do to get us to the side of the road. A small tree took pity on us and stopped us.”

 

“Did the van die because it’s a complete piece of shit or was it something supernatural?” Tyler asked, getting out of his seat to look out the window.

 

“I have no idea,” James said, peering over the steering wheel into the darkness. “It just died.”

 

“I don’t feel any spells,” Marcy said. “But that doesn’t mean much. I didn’t on the plane either.”

 

“Where are we?” I asked. I’d been asleep the entire time up until this point.

 

Marcy turned around. “We crossed into Georgia about an hour ago. We’re on some small country road. Too many cops for me to keep spelling the highways. Since James insists on going over a hundred miles an hour, it’s made it difficult. It’s a miracle this rattletrap can even maintain that speed. It’s possible we just blew out the engine.”

 

We’d all discovered quickly that this van shook at high speeds. “Wouldn’t there be smoke or noise if the engine blew?” I said. “I didn’t hear anything, but I was asleep.”

 

“Jess is right,” Nick said. “I was awake and I didn’t hear anything. The van just stopped working.”

 

That meant trouble.

 

Ray had opted to fly an hour in, muttering about smells and gator vans, so he was somewhere out there.

 

The boys piled out of the van.

 

“Marcy, do you have your cell phone on you still?” I asked as I went to sit closer to her.

 

“Yep. I’ve been checking it religiously, but all’s been quiet in Juanita-Land. I’ve been secretly hoping she would send me little flashes to help us, but there’s no dire message blinking on the screen.” She pulled it out to double-check. “Nope, nothing there.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t sense a spell?”

 

“I don’t,” Marcy said. “But that’s not saying much. If it’s anything like what killed the plane, I likely won’t detect it.”

 

“If the van really stopped because of a mechanical failure, do you think you could fix it?”

 

“I can try,” she said. “I have no idea how to spell a motor, but it can’t be that hard. But, honestly, who are we kidding? I highly doubt it’s mechanical. It happened too abruptly.”

 

“Yeah, that would be too easy—”

 

There was a loud crash in the trees just outside the van. Marcy and I both sprang out of our seats, and right as we opened the doors, both our mates yelled in unison, “Stay in the car!”

 

“Yeah, right,” Marcy called, answering for us, “like that’s happening!”

 

We jumped out and headed over to where the guys stood just outside the tree line. “What do think that was?” I asked Rourke. “And why in the world would you tell me to stay in the car? I shouldn’t have to remind you that Marcy and I just took out the big bad ourselves.”

 

He growled. “It was just a gut reaction. I’m sick of seeing you in danger. The van is the only cover we’ve got at the moment.”

 

“That gator van is hardly going to protect us against anything—”

 

Twenty feet in front of us there was another loud explosion and we were all knocked backward from the force.

 

Each of us was up in a moment, glancing around but finding nothing.

 

Tyler called, “I don’t sense any magic, but there’s no question something’s coming.”

 

“We need to move out of here now!” Rourke tugged me back. “Everyone back in the vehicle.” He glanced at Marcy and nodded to James. “Open the hood and see if she can fix it with a spell.”

 

“Agreed.” James moved forward with Marcy tucked to his side.

 

I reached the side of the van first and wrenched the door open. I took one step inside and the door snapped shut behind me on its own, locking everyone else out. I turned, rattling the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

 

“Jessica!” Rourke shouted on the other side. “What’s going on?” He pounded his fists against the window, but it held when it should’ve shattered.

 

“I have no idea,” I called through the glass. “The door won’t open—”