Page 138 of The Originals


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“This guy my mom dated once was getting his pilot’s license, and we went up with him,” Sean says, blinkering to get around a pokey driver. “We just drove right out to the tarmac. It was a really small airport that did a lot of charter business. We didn’t need IDs.”

“They’re on a charter?” I ask, thinking how beyond strange that seems, like we’re in a James Bond movie or something. “Who charters airplanes anymore?”

Sean shrugs. “Rich people, I guess.”

I think of Mom’s mystery money and have to force myself to catch a breath. What if she really did take them somewhere?

“Can we listen to some music or something?” I ask, feeling like I might burst out of my skin I’m so anxious.

“Of course,” Sean says, fishing his iPod out of the center console and handing it to me. “You pick.”

I get us set with some road tunes, and eventually the music starts to make me feel better. Well, that, and Sean’s hand resting on top of mine, sending me “calm” by osmosis.

We pull over outside of L.A. to check the tracker at a coffee shop that offers WiFi. The website is one of those that’ll open only on the user’s assigned computer and phone; it’s frustrating that we have to stop every time I want to look—which happens to be frequently. Sean and I are jittery from all the coffees we’re buying in order to use the Internet.

“It stopped,” I say to Sean, pointing at the screen. He hands me a latte I don’t want or need; I take a sip and set it aside.

“Where?” he asks, sliding into a seat on my side of the table.

“Denver,” I say. “I wonder if that’s the final destination.” I stare at the blinking dot, willing it to give me the answer.

“Let’s hope so,” Sean says. He pulls his iPhone out of his pocket and starts tapping the screen; I lean over and see that he’s looking at the GPS. I notice that his right knee is bouncing up and down; I push his latte aside, too. “We can make it there by morning if we drive all night.”

“Sean,” I say, looking at him, “that’s crazy.”

He laughs it off. “I’m good,” he says. “I’m caffeinated, and running on ten hours of sleep and pure adrenaline. I’ll stop if I get tired, but really, it’s not a big deal.”

I consider how badly I want to find Ella and Betsey, how much I need to make sure they’re all right.

“Fine, but you have to let me drive part of the way.”

“You got it.”

twenty-six

I wake up the next morning in winter.

There’s snow on the mountains and frost on the windows, and the road and landscape are the muted color of cold.

“You said you were going to wake me up!” I say, sitting up quickly and wincing at my stiff neck, then smacking Sean lightly on the arm. “Where are we, anyway?”

“Near Grand Junction, Colorado,” Sean says before taking a sip of coffee from who knows where. “And I didn’t wake you up because you needed some rest. But it was all good. I had my tunes and my thoughts to keep me company.” He pauses, glances at me, then smiles. “You talk in your sleep.”

“Oh, no,” I groan, having heard it before. “What did I say?”

“Something that sounded straight from a Stephen King novel,” he says, laughing. “You talked in this low monotone, like you were possessed. Don’t worry, I couldn’t understand what you were saying. But I gotta admit, it was late and dark and I might have screamed like a little girl… which didn’t wake you, by the way.”

“Sorry,” I say, looking away, embarrassed but mostly amused. Then I remember that this road trip isn’t about fun and silliness. “Let’s pull over and check the tracker.”

“I already did when I got coffee,” Sean says. “They’re actually not in Denver; they’re in a town called Mystery. I Googled it; there’s a college there. It’s called Bramsford University.”

“What the hell?” I ask, groggy and confused.

“I don’t know, but we’re only about four hours away. We’ll find out soon enough.” Sean looks at me and takes my hand. “Let’s stop and eat, though, okay? I’m hungry, and you look like you could use some pancakes with whipped cream right about now.”

“I couldn’t do this without you,” I say seriously. He squeezes my hand, but keeps his eyes on the road.

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