“So transport us inside,” he said. “I call shotgun.” Liam turned around and pinned Will with a hard look over the hood of the car. I dare you to argue, the look said.
Will felt torn. Something was waking up inside him.
Darryl seemed to consider the request a moment. He gave the car a long look. “You realize the risks. I mean, she so much as notices the indentation in the seat next to her and you’re screwed.”
Liam turned and leaned back into the car, slipping his head through the now-open window. He looked in the back seat, then down at the passenger seat. “Leather bucket, tight weave. There won’t be an indentation. And I’ll make sure the music is loud enough any creaking leather won’t be heard.” He stood again and faced Darryl once more. “Sound good?”
Darryl sighed. “Very well.” He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
Will found himself in the back seat of the newly renovated vehicle, directly behind his cousin. The position set off a dichotomous reaction in Will. He was strangely irritated with Liam taking charge despite the fact that Will had all but begged him to do so when he’d told him he should be the one to work the spell on Helena. Plus behind Liam, his legs were a little squished. Well, a lot squished. But he was also pleasantly surprised to find that from this position behind Liam, he had an unobstructed view of Helena.
Beside him on the left sat the warlock, and when Will glanced at him it was to find Darryl smiling knowingly. The undead magic user leaned over and whispered in Will’s ear. “Personally, I think she’s more like you than you realize.”
Will didn’t have a chance to respond, because Helena turned the key and ignited the engine at that moment, and the roar filled the garage. It was a gas-guzzling sound, one he knew Liam was particularly fond of, and apparently so was Helena, because she grinned ear to ear. Then she popped a cassette tape into the car’s stereo – old school car and old school renovation – and turned up the volume. AC/DC’s Thunderstruck blasted over the speakers, filling up what was left of any silence in the garage.
Another of his favorite songs. Maybe Darryl was right.
Next she shoved the clutch down with a strong leg, shifted into a new gear, took her foot slowly off the brake, and smoothly pulled them out of the garage.
Liam turned around in the front seat and shot Will a killer smile before mouthing the easily discernible words, “That’s my girl.”
Will’s jaw clenched.
There were trees lining the driveway outside the garage, and when they hit the street, the road they were on was a single lane. The speed limit was relatively low. Will glanced out the window to find deep darkness punctuated by relatively few street and home lights. “Where are we?” he asked, his voice tight. It definitely didn’t look like Chicago out there.
“Just outside Davenport, Illinois,” replied Darryl.
Will frowned. “Isn’t that about a hundred miles away from Chicago?”
“Yes, it is,” he said.
“So… it takes her two hours to drive into and home from work every day?”
Darryl chuckled. “Not the way she drives.”
As if to prove his point, Helena then leaned over and patted the car’s dashboard. “Buckle up, Angel,” she said softly. “We’re going for a ride.”
There was something about the way she said it.
In the front seat, Liam’s eyes widened a little, and in a completely non-Liam manner, he glanced to his right for a seatbelt. Will found himself doing the same. But the back seat didn’t have any. And as for the front, the belt was divided between a shoulder strap and a separate lap strap. Either of which would become a dead giveaway to their ghostly presence in the car if Liam were to utilize them.
So Liam grabbed the “Oh shit” bar on the ceiling of the car, and Will braced himself with an arm against the door and a hand against the seat beside him, and both men swallowed hard.
Helena leaned back in her seat, down-shifted, and just as her right boot sent the car into a growling acceleration, she took her hand off the gearshift, reaching out ahead toward the highway in front of them. Will watched in shocked silence as the road ahead began to blur, followed by the street lights, which stretched into lines on either side of the car. It was like being in the Millennium Falcon as Han shifted into light speed.
“What the –” His sentence went unfinished. There was a blinding flash that made him recoil and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, the car was roaring with unhindered speed beneath them, and the highway ahead dissected a vast desert under a clear night sky, complete with a bright full moon.
The occupants of the car for the most part sat in wonder of the sudden, inexplicable change. Helena quietly drove, kicking the vehicle into thoroughly illegal speeds, but handling it as if she’d done it a thousand times. The stereo continued to blare, wind whipped through the open windows, and the dry night air was almost relaxing.
“So,” Liam finally said, breaking the silence. “She can teleport.” He looked over the seat at Darryl. “Like a sentinel. And you.”
Darryl smiled. “Not like a sentinel,” he said. “Because she’s only coming into her powers, remember. And even now, she can transport not only herself, but a large object and everything inside.” He winked. “So you’re more apt with your second comparison.”
Something unsettling moved through Will as he watched Liam’s face. Liam looked from Darryl to Helena, who just continued to drive, enjoying the peace that must have been coming to her from the wind, the music, the freedom.
“Darryl, exactly how powerful is this woman going to get?” Liam asked.
That unsettled feeling grew stronger in Will. He knew what Liam was thinking. He knew why he was asking what he was asking. And he didn’t like it one bit. Liam was the kind of warden who liked to nip trouble in the bud, in effect stopping it at its roots to prevent it from doing any further harm once and for all. In other words, when something was too frightening – i.e., too powerful – it was Liam’s preference to simply destroy it.
The undead warlock sighed. “How strong is fate, Spiky? If you think about it, it’s the strongest thing in the multiverse. Because it always wins. It’s basically what happens. Every time. It’s the end, the outcome, good or bad. So I’d say… pretty bloody strong.”
Will absolutely knew what Liam was going to say next, and every muscle in his body tensed hard against it. He felt as though he were ready to reach across the seat and punch his cousin in the back of the head just for thinking it, and when Liam finally gave his words voice, it took everything Will had not to attack.
“Then shouldn’t she be able to defeat Cain?” Liam asked without taking his eyes off Helena.
Will went still. He felt utterly floored.
That was not what he’d expected Liam to say. Not at all. He’d been positive Liam was feeling threatened by Helena. He’d been certain his cousin was going to consider her a dangerous monster and tell them all they had no choice but to end her before she ended someone else.
“Well now that’s the bugger of the situation, isn’t it?” asked Darryl calmly. He leaned further back in the leather seat and pinned Liam with a look. “If the situation were different, she probably could. Hell, she could probably kick the shit out of all three of us and still take on Cain.” He shrugged. “But she won’t. Because she was made for him. And therein lies her weakness.” He leaned forward now, and closed his eyes to inhale the scent of Helena’s hair.
Will and Liam watched in mounting discomfort as he did this.
“She can’t. Against him, she’s utterly, positively helpless.” He grinned and glanced over at them. “That’s why we’re here, remember?” he said, leaning back once more. “To protect her from him.”
“Damn it,” he and Liam said at the same time. Probably because they realized the same thing simultaneously.
“You’re playing both sides,” Will said.
“As long as she remains unclaimed, she can be sold,” Liam said, putting two and two together. �
�You fully planned to betray her for the right price.”
“Well now,” said Darryl defensively, but dismissively. “That’s the very definition of the right price, is it not?”
Will glared, and his eyes began to hurt. It was as if they were literally heating in his skull. When Darryl looked over at him, he blinked in something like surprise. But Will was too focused on his anger to pay it much heed. “What exactly is the right price for you, Darryl? Do you think Cain can bring you all the way back into the world of the living?”
Darryl stared at him a long moment, and for all the world it appeared he grew even paler in the dim light. Then he said, “If anyone can… it’s him.”
Chapter Fifteen
In the driver’s seat, Helena continued to pilot them down the new, deserted road.
“By the way boys,” Darryl said, breaking the new silence, “since I know it’s crossed both of your tiny minds, it’s no use offing her. She just comes back. She’s a gift from the Storyteller, so there’s no doing away with her.”
Will stared at the warlock, and in his peripheral vision, he could see Liam was doing the same.
“Exactly how many times have you killed her, Darryl?” Liam asked. His eyes were cold, nearly colorless. The green had leached out of them, a reflection of his emotion. He’d shut off the nozzle in self preservation.
Darryl’s brow raised. “Me personally? None. But this happens to be her fourteenth time around.”
The information slugged Will in the chest, and for a moment he was without air. He couldn’t say anything. Liam was quiet too, until he slowly turned back around to face forward and said, “You’re a yellow coward and an unbelievable scumbag, toe tag.”
Liam looked out the side window in silence as behind him, Darryl eyed him through a narrowed gaze that quickly spread red. Darryl Maelstrom preferred “Mr. Maelstrom” above other forms of personal greeting, and that was what the men who worked for him called him, but he tolerated “Darryl,” especially from the Slate cousins. What he had a far more difficult time tolerating were reminders that he was just short of living and breathing, and Liam Slate was very good at poking that particular bear.
“Okay, that’s enough,” said Helena suddenly.
Will’s head whipped forward. She was down-shifting and slowing the vehicle. He and Liam exchanged confused glances, and Darryl wasn’t any help. His face had gone expressionless, his eyes once more normal.
At a mile marker almost eleven miles past the one they’d first appeared by, Helena pulled the car over to the side of the deserted road and shoved it into neutral, yanking up the emergency brake before she opened her car door and climbed out. Liam gave Darryl an expectant look.
Tight jawed and sharp-eyed, Darryl snapped his fingers. The three of them disappeared from the interior of the car and reappeared standing beside it, opposite Helena. She had a gun in her right hand.
Will looked at the weapon and wondered where the hell she’d obtained it. The only possibility he could fathom was that she’d hastily grabbed it from the space under her seat as she’d climbed out. Was she that good? So good that she’d stashed a gun there during the car’s reconstruction?
Helena cocked the weapon, a plain black Colt .45, and stepped away from the car. The boys stayed where they were, and continued to watch in tense confusion. Still tangible, Will couldn’t help but remind himself. Because even if she couldn’t see him to aim, there was always the chance a bullet would strike true.
“Whoever or whatever you are, you can go ahead and show yourselves now,” she said as she looked in their general vicinity. Her own gaze was narrowed, and her white teeth were bared. “I know you’re there.”
Darryl swore softly. “Bollocks.” He sighed. “Jig is up, boys. Time to pay the piper.” He snapped again, and the three of them still stood there. To Will, there was no change. But to Helena, it made all the difference, because now she had something to aim at.
Which is exactly what she did.
The three of them raised their empty hands to show they were unarmed as her eyes and her gun went from one of them to the other. When they got to Darryl, they stopped there. Her gaze narrowed.
Good instincts, thought Will. There was laughter in his head, low and deep. Cain was back.
“Who,” Helena said, “and what are you?” She asked the latter part with emphasis, clearly able to tell Darryl was not quite human, at least not any longer.
Liam’s gaze cut to his cousin, before turning back on Helena. He was about to answer, but Will somehow beat him to it. “I’m Will,” he said placatingly, hoping against hopes that she would listen to reason and not judge them by the fact that they’d done nothing but deceive her so far. “Will Slate,” he clarified. “This is my cousin Liam,” he said nodding to Liam. “And that’s…”
“Darryl Maelstrom,” Darryl offered, cutting him off. “At your service.”
Helena eyed him warily. “The… zombie warlock?”
Darryl looked at the cousins before slowly lowering his hands to slide them into his pockets. This must have set off alarm bells in Helena’s head, because she shook her head and gestured for him to get his hands back up. He froze and slowly raised his hands once more. Then he sighed. “One and the same,” he admitted, apparently deciding not to share the fact that his men had killed her thirteen times.
Helena blinked. Then she lowered her gun, which surprised the cousins enough that it took them a moment before they in turn lowered their arms.
“Well, if that’s true, then these bullets are useless against you anyway.” She slipped the gun into a holster at the small of her back, and Will noticed it was the same brand he and his cousin used. So that’s where it came from, he thought.
Helena now faced them empty-handed. She looked disappointed, but not in them, in herself. “I’ve been told nothing short of gold bullets will slow you down, and they’re a bit out of my price range for everyday use.”
Darryl flashed her a charming smile. “Are you telling me you need a sugar daddy?”
She shot him a dirty look.
Good girl, thought Will and said Cain at the same time.
“Plus,” she added pointedly, “you wouldn’t have bothered showing yourselves to me if you’d been planning to kill me,” she reasoned. “Probably.” She considered her own deduction. Then she shrugged and took a deep breath. “So what the hell are you doing in my car?”
“That’s… a long story,” said Will, his mind firing away at a million miles a minute to find a starting place in this particular explanation.
“Is it?” asked Helena disbelievingly. “I’m listening.”
“Well, first off,” said Liam as he smiled charmingly. “I just gotta tell you – this is a great car. You’ve got amazing taste.”
Helena eyed him curiously and cautiously for a moment. Liam obviously grew nervous beneath the gaze, because he cleared his throat, and his smile slipped a little. Will always thought his cousin looked most vulnerable when a woman didn’t fall for his flattery. Like he’d been beaten playing his best cards. It somehow made him more human.
Will spoke up. “We’re here to help you, Helena.” Her name felt good on his tongue, especially when he was talking directly to her.
Helena’s eyes returned to Will, and Will felt himself heat up inside. It just seemed warmer when her attention was on him; there was no other way to describe it. “It’s going to be impossible to believe at first, and probably hard to believe even after we explain it.” He gave her a helpless, appealing look. “But it’s the truth.”
There was this tightness in his gut, a hunger in his heart, and fear that rode under it all, like a constant low-playing warning that reminded him he might have to go toe to toe with her. He might have to hurt her. Or hell – she might have to hurt him.
“Well,” she said finally, “I’m a reasonable girl. Start talking.”
Relief flooded Will’s system, and he started to exhale. But before he got another word out, the highway approximately t
wenty yards in front of the Shelby exploded, erupting from beneath the road like a geyser.
Chapter Sixteen
Chunks of asphalt, bricks of packed earth, and rocks of every size went spraying outward in a deadly fountain. Helena’s instincts kicked in, and she turned, raising her arms up over her head to deflect the impact from stray chunks.
She heard footsteps running, but to her credit, she didn’t pull her weapon and begin firing. Instead, she trusted the instincts that told her it was one of the men in front of her trying to help her rather than harm her.
She braced herself for inevitable impact when he wrapped his arms around her and took her to the ground. But her body never met the earth. Her savior shielded her completely with his own, and his arms acted as a barrier between her and the asphalt beneath her.
She could then feel a dull reverberation as large pieces of the ground cascaded into him, battering him from behind. He protected her from all of them, and Helena realized her instincts were right. If he’d wanted her dead, he certainly wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of protecting her, especially at the risk of damaging himself.
As to why he and his companions had been sitting invisible in her car, she had no idea, and it didn’t look like she was going to get answers any time soon. At once, her would-be protector was on his feet again, and Helena scrambled to get her boots beneath her as she looked up at him.
For the first time in Helena’s life as a warden, she was caught off-guard. She couldn’t believe she was having the reaction she was having. She was better than this… but there was something about the way he stood there, or maybe the expression on his face. Or perhaps his eyes.
He was the one who’d introduced himself as Will. He was incredibly tall, to the point that she knew he had almost a good foot on her, and he was proportioned like a Greek god. His features were entirely disarming, handsome beyond measure, with a furrowed brow that spoke of concern and kindness, but a glint in the eye that hinted at the close and personal knowledge of cruelty. He had to bend to offer her his hand, and that hand was strong. Short nails, calluses, bruises across the knuckles.
The Time King (The Kings Book 13) Page 10
