Page 105 of Mine

I swing my leg over the bike and settle onto the seat with Sabine’s sweatshirt on my lap. Cillian is already working on switching out the tires on the Tahoe.

It takes me a second to get my bearings. After engaging the choke, I turn the ignition.

The lights click on—dimly, but on, nonetheless.

Hell yes.

I take a deep breath and place my hand on her sweatshirt, then whisper, “To whoever is in charge of this crazy universe, I’m calling in a favor right now.”

I close my eyes as I squeeze the clutch and press the start button. The engine roars to life.

I look over my shoulder at Cillian, who’s as surprised as I am.

“Well, son of a bitch,” he says with a grin.

Slowly, I back up, wobbly, still rusty on driving this hog.

Cillian meets at the garage door and hands me a helmet. “Don’t die, brother.”

“Bring some extra firepower,” I say, securing the sweatshirt to the back. “I have a feeling we’ll need it.”

“One step ahead of you.” He gestures to the guns and ammo already stacked on the floor next to the Tahoe. “Go get your girl.”

I slide on the helmet, shift the gear, and press the throttle.

Sixty-Four

Sabine

The moment I regain consciousness, a wave of nausea hits me like a Mack truck. It’s so intense that I feel like I’ve been pushed off a hundred-foot bridge and am falling through the air. With it comes a knife-like pain in my forehead, the combination so gnarly that I can’t open my eyes.

Am I dying?

Am I already dead?

I become vaguely aware of a vibration under my body. A bump, then another, and another, then the damp smell of earth around me.

I’m in a car, and it’s raining outside.

Groaning, I try to move, but my hands are bound at my waist. Memories slowly trickle in.

Prishna shoving a knife into my side ...

Prishna attacking me . . .

A needle piercing my neck ...

My heart begins to pound.

“Bitch,” I spit out.

A low chuckle comes from the front seat. “That’s calling the kettle black.”

I blink wildly, subconsciously demanding that my brain level out the blurred vision. Whatever Prishna knocked me out with is lingering in my system like a date-rape drug. I turn my head and feel something slide down my collarbone.

Astor’s necklace. The beautiful butterfly necklace.

Where is he?

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