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“I just passed the Lakehouse.”
“I’m almost at Logan’s. Stay on the phone, okay?”
Her eyes flicked to the mirrors.
The vehicles were gaining on her.
Travis had never driven so fast in all his life.
He ripped the car through Werewolf Territory, blowing through stop signs and red lights. Logan’s neighborhood wasn’t far; another few minutes, and he should be there.
Logan and Sabrine weren’t answering their phones. Travis fought the urge to throw up, trusting that they were alive—that the imperator or Gaven, whoever was behind these attacks, had not targeted the wolves.
“Travis,” Jewels exclaimed with alarm, pointing ahead, “Travis—that’s smoke!”
Shit. Thick smoke was billowing out of a street up ahead—Logan’s neighborhood.
Not just Logan’s neighborhood—it was his house. Flames spiralled toward the sky, and in the distance sirens wailed. People were rushing out of their houses to stare.
There was hardly anything left of Logan’s home.
Travis pushed the car faster, but it was at its limit, the engine groaning in defiance.
Up ahead, he caught sight of a red convertible, the top up.
Lacey.
Behind her, right on her ass, were three SUVs. They were slamming into her repeatedly—crushing up the sides and back of the car.
Another came up behind her. Another SUV, this one faster than the others. But instead of slamming into Lacey, it slammed into the people who were chasing her, sending one into a fire hydrant and the other into a telephone pole. The pole shuddered, magic sparking. The fire hydrant exploded, water jetting into the air. People screamed and ran.
“Who the hell is that?” Jewels shouted.
“Who cares?” Whoever it was, they were helping. He’d deal with the specifics after.
The last remaining SUV hit Lacey’s convertible with enough force to flip it over.
Travis slammed on the brakes and swerved, barely missing Lacey’s car.
The convertible tumbled like a leaf in a gust of wind, the noise deafening.
Travis’s tires squealed as his car finally skidded to a stop, narrowly missing a speed sign.
Travis threw open the door and got out, Jewels following, and sprinted for Lace. “Lacey!” His voice was raw and broken, his heart shattering into a million pieces as he tore through the night, jacket whipping around him like leathery wings. “LACEY!”
A blonde head appeared. Lacey wiggled herself through the crushed window, blood streaming down the side of her face.
“Lace!” Travis sped up. “Hold on! Hold on—I got you!” His boots slid on gravel as he stopped beside her and helped her out, his grip on her arms slipping from the blood coating her skin. “You okay? You okay?” He lifted her to her feet, Jewels coming in on his other side, her hands outstretched toward her in case she was needed.
“I’m fine.” Lace blinked. Swayed. “I’m alive.”
A vintage truck rumbled to a stop beside them. Logan got out, followed by Sabrine. “Chrysantha?!” the alpha thundered. He ran toward the burning house. “Chrysantha!” His voice was a broken, thunderous roar. “CHRYSANTHA!”
Lace was staring elsewhere—at a dark figure walking this way. A tall male vampire with golden hair. “What,” Lace began, panting, “is he doing here?”
The figure had gotten out of an SUV—the same SUV that had rammed Lacey’s attackers off the road.
It was Jaden Croft.
