The rush of new air filling my lungs.
The memory of Draegan’s stormy eyes illuminated by the oncoming headlights.
The unmistakable scents of a past I’m still trying to outrun.
Fuel. Metal. Blood.
Fire.
An image flashes through my mind—a Tarot card. A nude woman rising from a black cauldron of flames, a phoenix made of pure firelight bursting free from the depths of her soul.
The Judgement card. A cleansing. Burning it all down and rising from the ashes anew.
The image fades, and the scent of fuel and blood assaults me once more. A cough rattles through my lungs.
Not dead. Not dead. Open your eyes, girl. Open your eyes right fucking now…
Something snaps me to attention—some latent survival instinct that yanks my mind from unconscious oblivion and explodes inside me like that phoenix, burning away the last of the haze.
The moment I open my eyes, pain arcs through my body, blinding and electric. I’m dangling upside down in Draegan’s ruined car, suspended by my seatbelt. We must’ve flipped.
There’s a hole where the windshield is supposed to be. A mangled dash and a deflated airbag beneath me. Our car is smashed against the guardrail, and across the oil-slicked road, the car that must’ve hit us is wedged at a ninety-degree angle between two trees, headlights stacked one on top of the other, shining like twin moons.
A soft breeze rifles through the surrounding trees, followed by the dull hiss of tires slowing on pavement. The ding-ding-ding of an open car door. Footsteps.
Then they stop somewhere behind the car. I can’t see anyone.
There’s a long pause, and then…
“Yeah, it’s me,” says a male voice. “It’s done. Make your move.”
Footsteps again, but this time they’re… retreating?
What the hell?Maybe he didn’t see me? Didn’t think anyone was still inside the wreck?
I know I should cry out for help, but my head is pounding and I can’t make my mouth form words and nothing makes sense and then, suddenly, his door slams shut and the car glides past my view, red taillights fading into the black night beyond.
782DSH. The license plate. The last thing I see. The number lodges itself in my skull, like I’ve just witnessed some impossible crime and need to report it to the police later. 782DSH.
Goddess… Why didn’t he help? Who was he talking to?Make your move?What move?
And… why isn’t Draegan saying anything?
Draegan…The realization slams into me like a fist to the gut, the rest of the night flickering through my memory in rapid-fire playback.
The office. The desk. The bank. The car. The crash.
“Draegan,” I finally rasp, slowly turning my head toward the driver’s side. “Drae, are you—”
No. No!
He’s nothing. He’s gone. Just… gone.
Panic seizes my heart, flooding my limbs with adrenaline.
Ignoring the relentless drumbeat in my head, I unhook the belt, drop down, and crawl through the gaping hole where the windshield used to be. Finally out in the street, I stagger to my feet on the pavement, dizziness sweeping over me in hot, sickly waves.
I take a deep breath. Then another. Mentally scan my body, head to toe. Nothing feels broken. Aside from the headache and a few cuts and scrapes, I think I’m relatively okay.
