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I channel all the superheroes Hunter talks about and will my body to move fast. I curl my legs forward and jump to my feet with a battle cry Nana Jo would clap for. The man in the driver’s seat yelps, and the car jerks to the left before he straightens it. But I don’t let myself get distracted. I don’t think, I just act.
I thrust my arms around the headrest, my fingers looping through the leg openings and gripping the cotton like my life depends on it. In the next breath, I plant my feet on the floor and sink my weight into my back leg. And before he has a chance to pull over or reach for a weapon, I yank the panties toward me as hard as I can. Distantly, I hear him gurgle something, but I block him out. My only focus is keeping my breathing as even as possible so I don’t hyperventilate and pass out. And not letting go.
I increase the pressure, and he shouts in earnest. His fingers scramble against the taut fabric against his throat. But I don’t let up. I angle my shoulders back, just a little. I don’t want to rip the fabric, just cut off his air supply. Death by stolen pink panties, what a fucking way to go.
Nova’s going to love the uniqueness of it, I just know it.
The car violently jerks as his panic doubles. He pushes to his feet, the engine revving with newfound intensity a second before the car lurches forward, like he’s got the gas pedal pushed to the floor now.
And then I make a mistake. I let a worry slip past my focus, one single thought shrouded in fear. And I glance out the windshield at the sea of green.
We're going to crash.
12
EVANGELINE
Drip, drip, drip.
My eyes ache as I open them, my lashes heavy as I blink a few times to clear my blurry vision.
"Takin' a nap, are we?"
I recognize the melodic cadence of her voice immediately. I twist to my right to see her, but there’s nothing but a grassy meadow. I blink a few more times, the edges of my vision never losing their fuzziness. My head aches like the one time I went out with Cora and some locals convinced us that if we drank only tequila and soda water, we wouldn’t get hungover. She lied. Cora and I nursed epic hangovers for nearly three days after that night.
"Nana Jo?" I roll my head to the left, the surface beneath me hard and unforgiving. "Where are you?"
“I'm right here, Eve.”
Her voice sounds like it’s coming from right next to me now, and I jerk my head back to the right. But the only thing I discover is white-hot pain streaking across my vision. My hand clamps down on my forehead instinctively, and my fingertips are met with warm liquid.
I don't have to look. I already know what I'm going to find coating my fingers: blood.
"I don't understand." Confusion slows my words, drops them into a murmur.
"Yes you do, Eve. My Eve. It's time to get up now," Nana Jo says from everywhere and nowhere.
"Get up?"
"Wake up, Eve. It's time to go," Nana Jo says.
“Go where?” I push to my elbows, and it’s only then I realize that I’m laying in the middle of a paved road. But not just any road, it’s Main Street in the middle of downtown Rosewood. Only it’s nothing like how I remembered it.
I stand up slowly, my lips parting with a surprised exhale as I pivot on my heel to take in the destruction surrounding me. “I don’t understand.”
Main Street looks unreal. Boarded up windows, garbage rolling around in the breeze, broken signs and crumbled storefronts. Rosewood looks like the set of that apocalyptic film Nova took me to see at the drive-in. Emotion squeezes my lungs, stealing my oxygen as my head spins and my eyes widen. I pivot again, turning in a complete circle to survey the damage of the town. “I don’t . . . What is this, Nana Jo?” I crane my neck toward the sky, as if her disembodied voice will float down to me and give me the answers I’m desperate for.
My thoughts are muddled, but there’s one that pushes through loud and clear. Where is everyone?
A jolt of fear courses through my veins, skipping my pulse. Without hesitation, I spin on my heels and race toward the Reaper’s compound. My feet pound against the ground with each step, and my breaths come out in ragged gasps as I push myself to run faster.
I don’t know how I ended up here, but I’m not going to waste time trying to figure it out when my men are so close.
Sweat prickles along my brow, and I wipe it away without stopping. My forearm comes away bloody, but I push it to the back of my mind. My head barely hurts and it’s nothing compared to the pain in my chest, to the need to find Nova and Bane and Silas and Hunter.
My sneakers skid to a stop, broken pieces of concrete spraying everywhere as I look around. My breaths saw in and out of my chest, disbelief coating me like a too-small wool sweater.
“What the fuck?” I murmur.
