“A Taco Bell about five minutes away.”
A public place. We’ll have to be careful. Nowadays everyone has a camera on their phone. If we’re filmed grabbing a teenage girl, we’ll be sent to prison on kidnapping charges.
Or maybe not. There’s a detective who might step up and help us. She’s a civilian and she can’t see zombies, but when she investigated the deaths of six of my friends, including Kat, she had to accept the fact that there’s an unseen evil out there and slayers protect the rest of the world from it.
Our tires squeal as River parks like a stunt man in an action movie, the car spinning into an open corner slot in front of Taco Bell. I’m racing inside the building before he’s even opened his door. I’ve seen Tiffany’s picture. Black hair, brown eyes. Freckles. I’ve read her stats. Five foot six. One hundred and sixteen pounds. I scan the faces before me. An older couple. A teenage girl—a blonde with too much makeup, zero freckles and a red, angry gash across her jawline. A group of construction workers.
My gaze flips back to the blonde. I compare her face to the picture of Tiffany stored inside my mind. The two have the same bone structure.
Makeup can hide freckles. Bleach can lighten hair.
It’s her. Has to be.
Rage takes a few swings at me. This girl callously and coldly sliced open Milla’s neck and left her to die.
This girl will pay.
Tiffany spots me and gasps. As she jumps to her feet, her chair skids behind her, its legs scraping over the tile like fingers over a chalkboard. The rest of the diners grimace and either glare or frown at her.
If she was smart, she’d tell everyone the boyfriend who hurt her is back to finish the job. In seconds, she’d have a roomful of rescuers. And maybe that’s exactly what she plans as she opens her mouth. But a slight whistle of wind passes me, and she snaps her mouth closed. Her eyes go wide, and she pats at her neck.
Satisfaction cools my rage. River just darted her the way she once darted Milla. Only he used a tranq.
As her knees give out, he rushes over to catch her before she falls. He eases her into the booth and slides in to sit beside her. Her head rests against his shoulder as he casually eats the rest of her burrito.
“I’m so happy to see you again, sugar.” He kisses her temple. “Hungry?” he asks me.
Why not? I take a seat across from the pair and select an unwrapped taco. “You came prepared.”
“Always do. Now we need to figure out how to get her to the car without looking like we’re planning a gang bang or date-rape.”
“Please. That’ll be easy.” I finish the taco, drain what’s left of her soda. “Watch and learn.” I reach out and rip out a row of Tiffany’s stitches. Her wound opens, blood pouring down her chin. “She’s bleeding,” I announce. Too gleeful? I try for a more concerned tone. “We have to rush her to the emergency room, like, now.”
I stand. River is fighting a grin as he follows suit and gathers Tiffany in his arms.
“Poor girl,” someone says.
“I hope she’s okay,” another whispers.
River climbs in back of the car, keeping Tiffany in his arms. As I settle in the driver’s seat, he tosses me the keys.
“Way to keep us under the radar,” he says.
“Hey. We’re not potential date-rapers right now. We’re heroes.”
“Yeah, but what you did was pretty cold.”
“You complaining?”
“Hell, no. I’m impressed.”
I snort.
At the first red light, I whip out my phone to text Cole and let him know we’re on our way. I expect to see a message from Milla. Earlier, she told me she would break my face if I showed her my wrath and for some dumb reason, I thought it would be a good idea to tell her she needs my face intact more than I do, that she’s the lucky one who gets to stare at it. In other words, I flirted. But she hasn’t responded, and I’m glad. Really.
Caught Tiff. On way. Need room 4 interrogation.
His response arrives after the light turns green, so I have to wait until I hit the next red to read it. Yeah, I’m responsible like that.
Room ready. But U should know—we had prob w/Milla. Get here ASAP.
The light turns green. I don’t care. I type, What kind of prob?? Is she hurt?
I press Send and stomp the pedal to the metal, breaking speed records.
“Slow down,” River snaps. “We get pulled over, we’ll lose our prize. Not to mention the stint we’ll do behind bars.”
“Something happened to Milla. A problem.”
He sucks in a ragged breath. “Hell. Why are you driving like my grandmother? Go faster.”
I take the next few corners so fast, I leave rubber and smoke in my wake. Eight minutes and thirty-three seconds later, we’re parked in front of the mansion and running inside. When we pass the door, I notice Gavin coming down the stairs.
“Milla,” I say.
“Back in her room. But I don’t recommend going inside.”