Page 19 of Bloodmoon Ritual

Was he still a cocky asshole who didn’t even bother taking his keys out of the ignition because he knew no one would dare to mess withhisthings?

I had one chance to find out.

The rough concrete scraped my bare feet, but I focused only on his motorcycle.

The Congregants were so feared they didn’t even have anyone there guarding the motorcycles.

Were his keys there?

Shit, they weren’t there!

No,they were there, and I practically vaulted my leg over his seat with a gasp of relief.

I could hear my twin now as he hit the driveway.

“No, Temperance!” he called out sharply.

But I didn’t even look back, just twisted the key in the ignition.

It started immediately. Rhyder always kept his motorcycle in perfect order.

However, I hadn’t even driven a motorcycle since the day I was taken. I used to drive them all the time, even had my own motorcycle I drove under Rhyder’s overbearing bossy fucking supervision.

And of course his motorcycle was much bigger than mine.

“Don’t you fuckingdare!” he bellowed again, and before I was taken I would’ve known this voice meant I was in trouble, but I only released the clutch and began to accelerate.

For one terrifying moment, the motorcycle wobbled wildly, and I was afraid I would crash to the ground before even getting started. But I remembered my brother’s instructions, and I bent low, shifting to compensate, and the motorcycle stabilized as I accelerated desperately.

I didn’t even know where I should go.

Where was I safe from my brother?

Where was I safe from his relentless pursuit, his frightening devotion?

Still wobbling a bit, I took off down the driveway, avoiding all the parked cars and carefully merging onto the city street.

But when I heard the harsh sound of another motorcycle behind me, I began to accelerate faster, my heart thudding in my chest.

He was following.

Rhyder always followed.

Always pursued.

Never ever gave me a moment of freedom.

I ignored how he felt behind me, it was only fear that crawled along my skin, not anything else. Made in the same womb, as Rhyder never let me forget.

It meant nothing.

He was like a burn on my skin, my fingers almost slipping off the handlebars with how much work it was to stabilize Rhyder’s huge bike.

My twin rode behind me, close enough so I’d know he was there and he wasn’t going to stop.

We rode like that through traffic, my brother matching my pace. Not riding close enough to make me speed up. But also close enough to know he was watching me.

I had hoped to lose him, but that was obviously not happening.

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