He points, and one of his spectral directional arrows rolls out in front of his arm like a bright green carpet. It lights the way across the street and then curves behind the parked cars along the sidewalk. (And somehow I’m able to still see it through the obstructions.) It ultimately leads to a crap-brown late-’90s Crown Victoria that is parallel parked about two blocks away.
“Move, Alvin! And keep your head down once you get behind that row of motors, so he won’t be able to see where you’re going!”
For the record, I barely know how to drive, and of course I don’t have the keys for some random car, but sure! Why not? Let’s move!
I run forward, on top of the arrow/carpet, and unlike the last time I ran from the elf, now I reallyamlike the wind! My legs whip like freaking hummingbird wings. I have no idea exactly how fast I’m going, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be thirty or even forty miles an hour. I’m up to the Crown Victoria in just a few seconds.
Damn. Active incubus powers arefire, no question there. No wonder paranormals like me are willing to kill for them.
Collin keeps up, no problem, and he’s already created a blinking, glowing arrow that points directly at the side seam on the front passenger side door, next to the door handle.
“Grand! Now dig your fingers in there, and yank it back as hard as you can. You won’t be strong enough to ripthe whole door off, and that would make too much noise anyway, but you should be able to create a big-enough gap to reach in and unlock it.”
Even after my burst of truly impressive super-speed, I’m skeptical. On my best day, I can barely handle carrying the bigger boxes from online delivery up to my apartment.
But I yank right where he tells me and sure enough, that part of the door tents out by almost a foot, creating a gap large enough to get my hand through.Right on!I reach in, unlock the door, throw myself inside, then close the door behind me, as quickly and quietly as I can.
It’s just in time, because Collin says, “The elf is out of your building and searching the street.” He’s in the back seat, looking through the back window. “We’ve got a couple minutes, maybe, but at this distance, he’ll be able to track you by smell. We better hurry.” Another large glowing green arrow appears, and it points to the thin gap connecting the lower dash to the upper dash on the driver’s side. “Go on! Rip that open!”
The thought the elf can track me like the freaking giant fromJack and the Beanstalkis hella disturbing, but Collin seems to know what he’s doing, so I scoot forward toward the driver’s seat and give another sharp tug. The lower dash cover easily succumbs to my newfound super-strength, revealing a mess of different colored wires and electrical stuff.
The tip of the glowing arrow then narrows to almost pinpoint size, directing my attention to a spot close to the edge of the dash panel now in my hand. “Okay, this’ll be a bit fiddly, but you can do it. Put your thumb exactly right there.Good. Now wrap your fingers around the other side,grip hard, and then twist your wrist quick as you can to snap off a piece of the panel you’re holding.”
I do as I’m told. I’m left holding a thin strip of pointy plastic. Then I glance up at the rearview mirror and see the elf in the middle of the street. He’s still a block and a half away. I don’t see him sniffing the air or anything, but he’s checking behind cars and, more disturbingly,insidecars—and he’s walking in our direction. I’m so tense, the sharp little stick I’m holding shakes in my grip.
“What are wedoing, Collin? A shard of plastic isn’t going to get through his armor.”
He grins back at me with mischief. “Sorry, lad. I thought it was obvious. We’re hot-wiring a getaway car!”
Of course we are. Why should I stop with home burglary when I can commitallthe crimes tonight?
Two more arrows appear and point to a red wire and a purple wire right next to the now-exposed steering column. Glowing text hovers above them: “Ignition Wire” and “Starter Wire,” respectively.
“Now, take your nail, and dig it hard into the red one to get to the wire,” he says. I force my sweaty fingers to remain steady and scrape until I expose the actual wire. “Good lad! Now the purple one.Deadly!You’re doing great!”
I don’t feel great. I feel like I’m barely holding it together. I glance up at the rearview mirror, still keeping my head low. The elf is less than a block away now.
“Now,stick the strip of plastic from the dashboard into where the key would go. Sound!”
“And that’s it?” I ask, gritting my teeth and focusing on the plastic stick I’ve shoved into the slit-like keyhole.It’s taking serious willpower not to keep looking behind us.
Collin bites his lower lip. “Eh, no. You’re actually going to need to do a couple of things pretty much at once. You’re going to need to twist that plastic piece in the ignition. And… you’re going to need to use a bit of magic on the exposed wires.”
Magic. Right. I might see a little hitch in your perfect plan, oh great Avatar of Knowledge.
“Collin… Ican’tcast magic! I don’t know how! And even if I did, I’ve never been able to sense any mana inside me.”
Collin narrows his eyes with determination. “I’m aware, but I think you already know every living paranormal has thepotentialto cast spells. And if I’m right, this should be something you can easily do.” He’s trying to look encouraging, but I can hear the stress in his voice. “Just put your fingers on the exposed wire, and when I give you the nod, get fierce angry, picture blazing fire in your belly, and send it directly to your fingertips.”
Uh-huh.
Mybellyis currently clenched tight with panic. I might not know much about how to use mana, but this isn’t how it works. A paranormal might be able to use their innate abilities on the spot in the right conditions (like having just fed on life force), but fire-bending isnotan incubus power. And from everything I’ve been told, casting a spell with mana requires serious prep ahead of time in the form of intricately designed runes. (Like Stryker’s tattoos.) To picture flames while being allgrrandsnarland hope that it does something in the real world?—
Collin grabs my shoulder, leaning in from the back seat. “Focus, Alvin!” He shoots a glance over his shoulder out the rear window. “We are out of time!”
I look back, and the tension in my gut spikes into icy terror. The elf is just fifty feet away now. Sword out, silver plate mail gleaming in the streetlights. His eyes land on the back of our car, narrowing.
And just like with jumping out the window, Collin’s giving me a choice that’s not actually a choice. I trust him or I don’t. I rely on what I have every reason to be sure is true (that this is doomed to fail) or I believe he knows better. It’s that last thing that convinces me to try it—because of what Ms. Stryker told me this morning. She’s never given me any spell-casting instruction until today but the lesson was clear: If you want to use magic, you have to believe it’s going to work.
