A Matter of Truth (Fate, #3)

Something slams into the door once more, nearly ripping me out of my skin. The Elders are right outside, and if they didn’t know I was here before, they do now. The situation has officially hit the fan now that Will’s trapped in here with me. Thank all the gods that Cameron is at work.

We have to get out of here, stat. I collapse the remaining energy ball into my fist. “Where’s your truck?”

His mouth falls open.

“Your truck, Will! Where is it?” I stand on my tiptoes and peer out of the peek hole in the door. I swear, something smiles back at me. Smoky black shapeshifter? Present and accounted for. Just one as far as I can see, but one is too many when there’s a Human involved.

But Will isn’t talking. He’s just gaping at me like I’m a monster. Fine. He can hate me and fear me, but I’m still getting his ass out of here.

I grab his arm and drag him back from where he came from. From the back door, I can see the truck. It’s maybe two hundred feet from the door. A hopeful, quick scan leads me to believe the Elder is still at the front of the house.

“Do you have your keys?” I whisper. When Will doesn’t answer, I do something that I’d never done to anyone before. I smack him straight across the face so hard fingerprints are left behind. I try not to cringe. “Keys, Will!”

It must’ve been enough to snap him out of whatever stupor I’d driven him into, because he recoils, flushes bright red, and hisses right back, “In my pocket.”

“Get them out.” I scan the area again. Another thump sounds from the front door. Once I hear the jingle of keys, I grab the doorknob.

A hand drops on my shoulder “Wait.”

“There’s no time,” I tell him in return. Realizing that the back door is creaky, I end up erasing it instead. Will’s breath draws in sharply, but I grab his arm anyway. “Don’t. Make. A. Sound.”

His nod is quick and jerky.

“On the count of three, we’re going to run to your truck. We’re going to get in and we’re going to drive as fast as we can. Do you understand?”

Another jerky nod. “I’m driving, though.”

Fair enough. I match his nod and hold out one finger. Two fingers. Three. We scramble down the steps, slipping on the icy path, but we make it to the truck in seconds. “GO GO GO!” I yell, and the truck swerves, sliding in an arc, but it shoots out the back of the driveway. I redesign the wheels so ice and snow are nothing to them.

The Elder’s off the porch in a blink of an eye, slamming into the driver’s side. I immediately reinforce the metal and glass surrounding us. “Drive, Will!”

“WHAT IS THAT THING?”

Death, is what I want to tell him. His worst nightmare. How does one even begin to coherently explain what’s going on? As we speed away, the Elder hot on our trail, I notice the white to-go bag, sitting in between us. “What’s in the bag?”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU CAN MAKE DOORS DISAPPEAR AND SHOOT FIREBALLS FROM YOUR HANDS AND THERE’S SOME KIND OF MONSTER AFTER US AND YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE SOUP I BROUGHT YOU? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

He has a point. Still, “You brought me soup?”

“Chloe!” His eyes don’t leave the road, but they narrow into slits. “Priorities!”

I eye the Elder in the side mirror. It’s fallen behind. “You need to take us out of town. I can’t fight it out in the open all by myself. We have to go somewhere where we’ll be isolated. Where there won’t be collateral damage.” Or, at least, I can hope. I snap my fingers. “Take us to Chugach.”

The state park outside of Anchorage would be the perfect place. Plenty of wildernesses to hide in. Plus, as it’s February, it’s not like the park will be filled with hikers.

“Fight it? Are you mad?”

“Should we just let it kill us?”

He guns the truck around a corner; we skid for two heart-stopping seconds before he manages to right us. Huh. I redesign the wheels once more. “Start talking, Chloe Lilywhite. Who in the hell are you?”

“This isn’t the time—”