Page 58 of Viper

Tires screeched, and a car barreled toward the sidewalk, its headlights stabbing him in the eyes.

“Get back!” he shouted at Paige, shoving her toward a storefront.

Her scream split the air. The car jumped the curb. Troy seized Paige’s waist and leaped out of the vehicle’s path, throwing them both to the unrelenting cement.

He landed on top of Paige, shielding her body with his and caging her head with his forearms.

People shouted. He lifted his head just in time to see the car swing into reverse and then shoot into drive. It barreled away down the street.

“Yo, man! You guys okay? That was wild!” A young man with shaggy hair hopped off his skateboard and caught the thing in midair.

The guy held out a hand, but Troy’s focus was on Paige.

Her hair billowed around her on the concrete, hiding her face. His chest tightened. He brushed her locks away just as she lifted her head. Her cheek was scratched and her chin bleeding. Trembles racked her shoulders.

“Paige, are you hurt?” he asked, cupping her shoulders gently and searching her makeup-streaked face. The sight of the marred mascara and smeared lip color angered him even more. It was as if the sonofabitch had stolen the lightheartedness of her efforts. His fury was bottlenecked, ready to combust.

Her lip trembled. “I’m fine.” She ran her hands up and down his arms as if doing so calmed her nerves. “He f-found me again.”

Troy seethed.

That sonofabitch was dead.

Chapter Fifteen

Paige couldn’t stop the violent shudders attacking her body from head to toe. Her teeth chattered and her hands and feet were as cold as ice despite the warm air. A paramedic had wrapped her in a blanket while she’d given her statement to an officer—for the second time in two days.

She sat in the back of the ambulance. Police cars and emergency-vehicle lights surrounded them, silent and ominous. Curious expressions landed on her, and passersby soundlessly searched her for signs of injury.

Other than scratches and bruises, the only injury was to her mental state.

Troy swayed back and forth next to her as if he couldn’t contain himself. He had road rash up his forearm that had already been cleaned and bandaged, despite his trying to refuse attention.

“Again, are you sure you didn’t get a look at the plates?” the officer asked, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

She shook her head. “All I saw were headlights. Everything happened so quickly.”

“All right. We’ll be in touch. It may have been an isolated incident—although there’s the possibility Craig Brawn is connected.”

Troy scoffed. “I’d say there’s more than a possibility. The vehicle drove right at us.”

The officer’s face said he agreed, and he grimaced. “We’re still looking for him.” He thanked them both and retreated to his cruiser.

Paige lowered her gaze in defeat. Craig was nothing but a poltergeist. Lurking. Hovering. Watching. But they were unable to see him or prevent his attacks.

Troy laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and she looked up. He swiped his thumb over her cheek just beneath her scrape. “I’m sorry.”

She grabbed his fingers. “Don’t be. You’re not in his head. You don’t know what he’s planning.” She smiled, but her lips shook with the effort. “Besides, I’m not hurt.”

“Paige!”

She jerked her attention toward the worried voice.

Atlas strode down the sidewalk toward them. His pace quickened as he slipped through the tape blocking off their danger zone. Reaching the back of the ambulance, he pulled her into his arms. “What the hell?” he murmured.

He held her for a minute, rubbing her shoulder. Then he released her and turned to Troy. “How’d this happen?”

Troy told the story. Her brother’s expression became pinched. Havoc, Wraith, and Reaper hovered on the other side of the yellow tape, talking among themselves.