“I’m sure she’s fine,” I said.
“You don’t know that, though, do you?” Jamie’s eyes went wild, looking around. “You have to let me out of here. I have to wake up and—”
“Jamie,” I said softly. “Even if I break the dreamwalk, it’s possible you won’t wake up now. Your body—you took a beating. You need time to heal.”
“Sienna,” she said, stepping toward me, “my daughter. What about my daughter?”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” I said. “This guy, whoever he is—he’s the one who took down the bridge in Virginia earlier. He’s … targeting metas, I guess.” That sent a little shiver down my back.
“But how do you know she’s fine?” Jamie asked, just blinking and looking around. She was starting to get agitated, and I knew my exit cue had arrived. “Maybe he was after her and—and afterward he came for me—or tried me at home first—”
“It’s all going to be okay,” I said, “try to rest. Heal. And when you wake up, Kyra will be by your bedside, as worried about you as you are about her right now.”
She locked on my eyes. “But how do you kn—”
I broke the dreamwalk and sat up in the car, staring into the darkness ahead of the windshield wildly, like Jamie Barton’s accusing face was going to leap out at me, poke a finger into my eye, and ask me again, “How do you know that she’s okay?”
Because, of course, I didn’t.
And worse, I thought, looking around the car and finding Cassidy and Eilish still sleeping, and Harry glancing back at me, coolly, probably totally aware of what I might say …
Worse … even if Jamie’s daughter had been kidnapped, been taking by this super powerful meta in New York City …
I was in Alabama, at least a day’s drive away.
There wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it right now.
“She’s fine, by the way,” Harry said, and when I looked over at him. “The daughter. She’s fine. She gets mentioned in a news article tomorrow, by her mother’s bedside waiting for her to recover.”
“Good,” I said, but it sounded hollow, because … it was. A hollow feeling, empty thoughts. Kyra was safe; that was good, but … if she hadn’t been …
The old Sienna Nealon would have been there in hours, with either the FBI or her own agency to help spearhead a rescue attempt if needed.
Now?
Now all I could do was sit back, uneasily, in my seat as Harry Graves drove me on through the night, the thought of my near-powerlessness almost overwhelming me as I tried to quell the fear that rose inside me like the darkness outside.
13.
“I need to stop and pee,” I said. The clock on the dash read 4:45, and I assumed AM, since it was still pitch black outside. There was a glow on the horizon suggesting there was a town up there, and I was still letting Harry do his thing in silence, because I didn’t have much to say until now.
“I know,” Harry said. “There’s an all-night gas station two miles ahead, just through the town. We’re getting on the freeway after that.”
“Oh?” I asked, peering into the dark ahead, as though I could see this mythical town ahead around the bend. “What’s the town called?”
“Ardmore,” Harry said.
That meant nothing to me. I’d been all over the country, but only spent a little time in Alabama. “Wait, did you say we’re getting on the freeway?” I turned to him. “I thought you said that was a no-no?”
“The I-75 and I-95 corridors are being watched pretty hard,” Harry said casually, steering the car into a slight curve. Woods surrounded us on either side, and the SUV’s heater chugged to give us warmth. “But this is I-65, and the Department of Homeland Security isn’t God—their eyes aren’t everywhere at once. Or, in this case, police patrols aren’t elevated here—yet.” He gave me a warning look, one that I took to mean, So don’t do anything stupid to cause them to elevate.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, your earlier fears appear to be unfounded. You didn’t say anything there and I felt I learned something anyway.” He smirked.
A few minutes later we pulled into Ardmore and into a gas station. I didn’t see any sign of the freeway, but it was probably ahead somewhere. This was a smallish town, complete with various storefronts and some restaurants. I saw a Mexican one that looked intriguing, but unfortunately it wasn’t open at 5 AM.
I popped out of the car while Harry quietly woke Cassidy and Eilish with an announcement that we were stopping for a bathroom break. While he was doing that, I swiped the credit card Reed had given me for gas and other contingencies and then started the tank to filling. That done, I followed Cassidy and Eilish in staggering toward the store. Well, Cassidy staggered. Eilish composed herself a little better.
Cassidy stumbled through the front door and didn’t even wait to hold it for me. I caught it nonetheless, not overdoing it on the metahuman power display, but having to hustle a little to keep it from shutting right in my face. Cassidy had paused just inside the door, her thin frame blocking the entry as she scanned the store. Finally her head turned and eyes alighted on the “Restroom” sign and off she went again, looking like she was the one who’d downed half a bottle of scotch, not me.
I followed behind her, walking past the beer cooler. The light within was off, shading all the Budweisers and Millers and all else in darkness that wasn’t exactly complete. I smacked my lips together as I went by, almost running into Cassidy again just outside the women’s room, which was in a little corridor off the store.
She was rattling the door handle, staring at it stupidly as though it would open if she just pulled a little more. “What the hell?” she mumbled, like she had a mouth full of cotton.
“Eilish is in there,” I explained, then had to tug her skinny arm away before she busted it with her meta strength. Cassidy may have looked like a stick figure, but I’d tangled with her, and while she was on the low end of meta physical abilities, she could still level a three-hundred-pound human linebacker with minimal effort.
“Oh.” Cassidy looked up at me, and I realized her comprehension must have been running at incredibly low levels. She had dark circles under her eyes, making her look a little like a drug addict when coupled with her natural paleness. I tried to recall the time and remembered it was nearing five in the morning. Cassidy turned back to staring at the bathroom door dully, waiting for Eilish to exit. Finally, apparently in frustration, she turned to the men’s room and tried that handle. It opened immediately, and in she went, locking it behind her with a heavy click, still seeming like a zombie.