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Eva's voice crackled like a weak radio signal, but her tone was unmistakably emphatic. He felt a chill on his wrist and looked down to see her spectral hand lighting there. He wanted to shake off her touch like the poison it was, refuse to let Eva betray him again. But when he glanced over at the other side of the car, the ghost of his dead enemy was weeping, her pale cheeks glistening with tears.
You haven't lost her yet, said the unmoving lips that had lied so easily to him in the past. There is still time. Croton Reservoir...
He stared as her form began to wobble and fade out. Could he believe her? Could anything Eva said be trusted, even in this form? He'd hated her for everything she'd taken from him, so how could he think for one second that he could take her at her word now?
Forgive me, she whispered.
And with one last flicker of visibility...she vanished.
"Fuck," Rio hissed.
He looked out at the endless road ahead of him. He had precious few options here. One wrong move and Dylan was as good as dead. He had to be sure. He had to make the right choice or he would never be able to live with himself if he failed her now.
With a murmured prayer, Rio hit the speed dial on his cell phone. "Gideon. I need to know where the Croton Reservoir is. Right now."
There was an answering clatter of fingers flying over a keyboard. "It's in New York...Westchester County, off Route 129. The reservoir is part of an old dam."
Rio glanced up at the Connecticut highway sign half a mile away from him. "How far is it from Waterbury?"
"Ah...looks like maybe an hour if you take I-84 west." Gideon paused. "What's going on? You got a hunch about the dam?"
"Something like that," Rio replied.
He murmured his thanks to Gideon for the info, then killed the call, hit the gas, and veered into the exit lane.
Chapter Thirty-five
Rio drove like a bat out of hell.
He put all his mental energy into reaching out for Dylan, trying to let her know that he was coming for her. That he would find her, or die trying.
He sped along Route 129, hoping he was getting close. He could feel it in his blood that he wasn't far from Dylan now. Their bond was calling to him, urging him on with a certainty that it wouldn't be long before he found her.
And then -
As a dark sedan came flying up the road from the opposite direction, Rio's veins lit up like firecrackers.
Madre de Dios.
Dylan was in that car.
With a hard crank of the wheel, he threw his vehicle into a sideways skid, blocking the road and ready to fight to the death for Dylan. The oncoming sedan's brakes squealed, tires smoking on the pavement. It lurched to a stop, then the driver - a human, by the look of the big man at the wheel - made a sharp right and gunned it up a dark, tree-lined service road.
With a curse, Rio threw his car into gear and went after them.
Up ahead, the sedan crashed through a temporary barricade in the road, then made a hard stop. Two people climbed out of the backseat - Dylan and the vampire who held her. The bastard had a gun jammed under her chin as he hauled her up the quiet road into the dark.
Rio braked to a stop and leapt out of the driver's seat, his own gun pulled from its holster and leveled at her captor's head. But he couldn't shoot. The chance of hitting Dylan was too great. More than he was willing to risk.
Not that he had much time to consider it.
The huge guard who'd been at the wheel of the sedan came around the car and started firing at Rio. A bullet ripped into his shoulder, searing hot pain. He kept shooting at Rio, trying to drive him back with a relentless hail of gunfire.
Rio dodged the attack and vaulted across the distance using all the Breed power at his command. He fell upon the human - a Minion, he realized as he stared down into the dead eyes. Rio grabbed him by the throat and then put his other hand on the bastard's forehead. He sent all his fury into his fingertips, draining the life out of the Minion with that brief, simple touch.
He left the corpse in the middle of the road and took off on foot to find Dylan.
Dylan stumbled alongside her captor, the hard cold press of a gun's muzzle jammed under her chin. She could hardly see where he was taking her, but somewhere, not very distant, rushing water roared like thunder.
