Page 56 of The Shadows of Excess

“What the hell was that?” My heart pounded as I frantically looked around. The rose tattoo on my arm practically burst into flames. Something evil was pursuing us.

Justice whirled in the backseat, peering wide-eyed through the rear window. “It’s Maci.” His tone trembled with fear and urgency. “I can see her. She’s right in front of the tunnel.”

“Oh, crap.” Damon twisted to look back, his expression darkening. “Is she coming into the tunnel after us? I can’t see shit.”

Justice’s gaze remained fixed on the ominous figure outside. “It looks like it,” he replied, his voice grim. “We might have a fight on our hands.”

Damon muttered a curse under his breath. “Great, a showdown at the O.K. Corral with no weapons. Exactly what we needed.”

Screeeeechhhhh!

I frowned, trying to peer into the darkness, but my eyes refused to adjust. “Justice, what happened? Damon and I can’t see anything.”

Another angry shriek reverberated through the tunnel, sending a cold shiver down my spine.

Justice’s gaze flicked between our group and the tunnel entrance. His forehead was wrinkled, and his lips twitched in confusion and relief. “She can’t come in here.” He gestured to the remaining tunnel ahead. A glint of determination flashed in his gaze. “That could give us an advantage.”

Damon drew his brows together. “I don’t know about you two, but don’t you find it odd that a dragon can’t enter the tunnel?”

I thought about it for a minute. “Maybe the witches cast a protective spell on this tunnel, similar to what Elijah did with his shop. Remember how Maci couldn’t step inside? It could be the same with this tunnel. Warded against evil.”

Justice turned back around. “Oh, shit.” He pounded the back of the seat hard. “Damon, go, go, go. She’s going to breathe fire at us.”

Damon’s reaction was immediate and decisive. He slammed his foot on the pedal, rocketing the Porsche through the tunnel. The car hurtled forward like a bullet, its speed a wild, desperate rush against time. Dust and loose rocks erupted in our wake, creating a chaotic maelstrom behind us.

I whipped around, my heart pounding, and caught a terrifying sight through the rear window. An immense ball of orange fire roared toward us, a blazing inferno in relentless pursuit. It illuminated the tunnel with fierce, unholy light, drawing closer with each passing second.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Flames erupted around us, encircling the Porsche in a fiery embrace. The car’s interior became suffocating and hot, as if we were trapped in an oven, roasting over an open flame. The cave walls revealed themselves in the blaze, adorned with strange, sparkling markings, unlike anything I had seen in the Shadow Mines. They flickered past in a blur.

Could they be symbols or ancient letters? We were moving too fast for me to discern their meaning, and in that moment of peril, deciphering them was the least of my concerns. Panic gripped me as the flames danced closer, threatening to engulf us.

Fear choked me, and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Damon!”

He gripped the steering wheel harder. “I know. I know. I know.”

The engine released a high-pitched scream, a desperate wail that echoed through the confines of the tunnel. It sounded like it was being pushed beyond its limits, straining under the extreme conditions. Thick smoke billowed from under the hood, swirling around us in ominous clouds. I couldn’t tell if it was a sign of the engine giving way under the strain or the searing heat of the dragon’s fire wreaking havoc on the car’s mechanics.

The acrid smell of burning metal and rubber filled the air, adding to the growing sense of dread. The Porsche, once a symbol of speed and luxury, now seemed like a fragile shell, struggling to protect us from the infernal assault that was hot on our trail.

Suddenly, a brilliant white light burst forth ahead of us, cutting through the oppressive darkness. It was blindingly bright, an intense beacon that grew larger and more overwhelming by the second. I couldn’t determine its source.

My heart pounded, a frantic rhythm of fear and hope as I squinted, shielding my eyes from the glaring heat. I wondered if we had really descended into hell. Tears stung my eyes. I clasped my hands together, turning my knuckles white, and silently prayed it was the end of the tunnel. I didn’t want to be roasted alive in this car.

In a blur of motion and heat, the sports car leaped through the flaming tunnel. Damon hollered, his voice merging with my scream in a cacophony of fear and adrenaline. The roar of the engine and the crackle of flames filled the air, creating a symphony of chaos as we raced toward the uncertain safety of the light.

The Porsche landed roughly on a gravel road. The tires spun wildly, struggling for traction as Damon expertly controlled the car. We skidded away from the tunnel, narrowly escaping as a stream of fire shot out behind us, licking at the edge of the road where we had been moments ago.

I broke into sobs. “We made it. We made it.”

Damon released a long, shaky breath and managed a whistle. “You doubted me? I’m better than Evil Knievel,” he boasted, but the tremor in his voice betrayed the fear he was trying to mask.

Without a word, Justice opened my door and swiftly pulled me into his arms. I clung to him instinctively, my face pressed against the solid warmth of his chest, my fists gripping his leather jacket. He kissed the top of my head and held me close. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”

The floodgates of my emotions, strained to their limits by the harrowing ordeal, finally burst open. I hated breaking down and showing vulnerability like this, but it was as if all the fear and tension had bubbled up and burst like a dam.

“Justice, Damon, my arm’s not burning anymore. I think we lost her for now.”

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