An Artificial Night

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” I shrugged. “I’m still too short to drive. Our other option is May. Do you really want to do that again?”


He looked from my Fetch to me and back, frown deepening in a scowl. Finally, he took off his seat belt, saying, “May, move.”

Flashing a grin, May scrambled into the backseat, settling next to Jessica and Spike.

Connor slid into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt, saying conversationally, “You realize I hate you.”

“I know,” I said, and smiled. “I’m okay with that.”

“I didn’t really save your life,” said May.

“I’m okay with that, too,” I said. “Come on. Let’s get these kids home.”

Connor sighed and restarted the car. It wasn’t riding very smoothly anymore, and I was fairly sure the shocks were shot. Oh, well. There’s nothing like a good car chase to start the morning off right. I gave him the directions to Mitch and Stacy’s and fell silent, enjoying the quiet. The kids were exhausted, and Connor and May were too busy hating me to talk. It was nice to have the break.

May was right. She didn’t save my life, because she couldn’t save my life; she wasn’t the one who was going to take it. A Fetch is an omen of death, not the cause.

Whatever killed me wouldn’t be something we could prevent with a little trick driving. I’d finally met an enemy that was bigger than I was. Blind Michael wanted me dead: that’s why May was there, and the Riders proved it. We’d gotten away, but whatever he sent after me next would be bigger, meaner, faster, and probably a lot smarter. If I was lucky, I’d be able to get the kids out of the range of fire before it was too late. It was already too late for me.





TWENTY



CONNOR FOUGHT THE CAR TO A STOP as we pulled up in front of Mitch and Stacy’s house; the brakes hadn’t been working well since our little joyride down the hill. Funny thing, that. Frankly, I was amazed we weren’t trying to stop the car by digging our heels into the concrete, Flintstones style.

When we finally stopped moving Connor staggered out of the car, moving to rest his forehead against the nearest tree. “I’m going to die,” he moaned.

“No, you’re not,” said May, climbing into the front seat and then out the driver’s side door. “Trust me, I’d know. It’s a professional thing.”

I unfastened my seat belt, eyeing them. “Guys? Disguises?” The Luidaeg’s spell hid us from prying eyes, but I wasn’t sure it extended past the boundaries of the car.

“Oh, right.” May snapped her fingers and was instantly disguised. She still looked like me, but now she was me-as-human. I’d never seen my human self from the outside before, and somehow, it was more unnerving than looking at my real face. Illusions are personal things, and we don’t usually steal them from one another.

Connor groaned and waved a hand, not lifting his head. The air around him shimmered, dissolving the webs between his fingers and roughening the texture of his hair. “Happy now?”

“Yes,” I said, leaning over the seat to stroke Jessica’s hair away from her forehead. “Come on, puss. Time to go.”

Jessica looked at me, then out the window. “That’s my house.”

“Yes, it is.” Andrew had dozed off, curled up with Spike in what would have been a sickeningly cute pose if Spike had been less, well, spiky. “Come on, Andy, wake up,” I said, shaking him. Spike opened neon yellow eyes and chirped. “Yeah, I know, I’m bothering you. Now get up.”

“Andy doesn’t like to wake up,” Jessica said.

“I’m noticing that. Can you make him move?”