Page 83 of Amethyst Flame
So I was distracted when Will flung the lightning whips after me, and I jumped toward the shelter of my car.
But I underestimated his reach—and his hive’s power. The whips twisted in midair to snap at me.
And hit the Fiesta.
As blue lightning zapped over the rust speckles like a cruel connect-the-dots, the headlights flared and the horn blared. And then both died with a whimper. Smoke curled up from the hood, adding to the haze.
No! Not my trusty, loyal, sweet car—I mean, sure, it had its troubles and had stranded me on more than one occasion, but never on purpose.
Pulse racing with anger and purple power, I spun on Will. He raised his hands, not in surrender, just whirling up his pinwheels again.
I turned frustration, fear, and fury into surprise leg day and bolted toward him, running a zigzag pattern like some wannabe sportsball star. He twirled lightning at me.
The Kidnapper was on approach, but every second counted. I might have to do exactly what Will wanted…and fight back.
Would I win?
Did I want to?
Will lashed at me again, but the whips fell short. Obviously he didn’t want to fryhiscar.
At the other end of the little gully where we’d parked, the Kidnapper topped the rise. Cutting it close, boys?
I pelted around the far side of Will’s car, brushing one hand across the back bumper. No violet sparks—I didn’t want him to fry out here, stranded in the sun—just a subtle pulse locking all the gears except reverse. He could chase me but he’d have to do it slowly and backward.
Waving frantically at the Kidnapper, I ran up the shallow hill, my spine prickling in fear of a blue lightning bolt piercing me.
But when I glanced back, Will had disappeared into his SUV.
I skidded around the front end of the Kidnapper and dove for the rear door. “Go! Go!”
Alone in the front seat, Jacob slalomed the big SUV into a tight curve and raced back the way he’d come. “What the fuck, Mo?”
“What the fuck, Jackhole?”
“Oh, we’re back to insults when I seem to have just saved your ass.”
“Drive faster, grandpa. What’s the point of a V8 if you aren’t going to use it?” I peered out the back window. Goodbye, Fiesta. I sniffed. At least there was no pursuit.
Clambering up into the front seat, I deliberately kneed Jacob in the shoulder. “Where’s Dane?”
“Couple of his people showed up, and he took off with them. Told me to keep an eye on you.” He cut a look at me. “Which brings me back to, what the fuck, Mo?”
“Well, excuse me for freaking out about dying. By the way, thanks so much for telling me.”
He hunched his shoulders a little. “I wasn’t sure the data was right. I’m no doctor! You seemed okay.”
“Yeah, why involve me when it’s only my life?”
He frowned. “Mine too, now, in some ways.”
“Not in the way that counts,” I shot back.
He was quiet for a quarter-mile of dust. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Barely mollified, I sat back with a huff. “How did you find me?”
“I tracked your phone.”
