Hunted (17 page)

Dreams plagued Emma’s sleep. She had spent most of the afternoon hiking around the lake in an attempt to avoid Raphael. After picking up dinner at the lodge’s restaurant, she returned to her room, where she fell asleep by nine o’clock.

But she was restless, hovering on the edge of the dream world and reality. She dreamed of her grandmother and fried chicken. She was a little girl again swinging on the old tire swing in her grandmother’s backyard. The dream shifted and Jake was in the swing, swinging higher and higher until he flew away, going farther and farther until he was just a speck in the sky. She dreamed of Will, calling her name, insistent, worry in his voice. She tried to answer, but she was too tired and when she found the energy, he was gone.

She dreamed of Raphael. On the country road and in the diner. The dream shifted once more. She stood in the woods. The light of the full moon pierced through the canopy overhead. The fire called out to her as her body felt alive with electricity. Excitement filled every molecule. Raphael was behind her, his breath warming her neck, the fire inside her rivaling the heat of the fire before her.

“You are not bound to destiny.” His warm, husky voice filled her ear as he kissed her neck below her earlobe. Waves of pleasure washed through her. She wanted more of what he offered. She wanted him.

“You’re so close,” he said, his very breath pushing her closer and closer to ecstasy. “So very close.”

“Emma.” She heard Raphael’s voice, but it was harsher, insistent.

She moaned.

“Emma! Wake up!”

She sat up in a panic when she realized it was dark and Raphael was in her room.

He tossed a dress toward her. “You have to hurry. You have to get out of here.”

“What are you talking about? How the hell did you get in here?”

He stopped and turned to her. “You have to hurry. They’re coming.”

They’re coming
.

His words were like icy pinpricks. Jake used to say that when the Bad Men were coming.

“How do you know?” she asked, jumping out of bed and grabbing the dress. She ran into the bathroom, shouting over her shoulder. “
How do you know?
”

“I just do.”

Jake told her that too. In the beginning.

She scrambled to get dressed, her fingers fumbling with the buttons.

“Emma, you have to hurry. They’re almost here.”

His voice was frantic. She never considered that the Raphael who calmly smashed in a man’s head as if he was playing baseball could become frantic.

And it terrified her.

She threw open the bathroom door, the top part of her dress not fully buttoned.

He was waiting for her, grabbing her nightgown out of her hand and handing her the gun. He ushered her out the door as he stuffed the nightgown into the pack. “You’re going to have to take my car.”

She stopped in confusion. “What about you?”

“I’m not going.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her, electricity shooting through her arm and a languid warmth crept in, flowing up her arm into her body, slowing her down even more. Raphael dropped his hand, irritation sweeping across his face.

“Gods be damned for choosing that man,” he muttered under his breath. “Emma, snap out of it.”

She shook her head and blinked.
What the hell had just happened?

“You have to hurry. You’ll be lucky to get away at this point. I’ll stall them as best I can, but I’m not allowed to interfere.”

He stopped next to his black Lexus and opened the door, tossing her backpack onto the passenger seat. He put the keys in the ignition and started the engine.

“Who are you?” she asked, her eyes wide with fear.

“The more appropriate question would be
what
am I. But we’ll save that for another day. Get in the car and go!”

“Where?” She slid into the front seat, her heart hammering into her chest.

“Anywhere but Minnesota.
Now go!
” He slammed the car door shut and turned as three cars tore into the parking lot, sending gravel flying in all directions. Raphael walked forward, toward the cars. Shadows licked at his feet.

Emma stomped on the gas pedal, heading for the parking lot exit when one of the cars swerved toward her. She backed off the gas, spun the wheel to a hard right, fishtailing and sending gravel into the cars parked in the lot. The other car swerved to miss her. She jerked the wheel to straighten the car and floored the pedal, aiming for the exit.

Gunshots rang out behind her and she ducked out of instinct. The bullets popped against the glass but it held.

Raphael had given her a bulletproof car.

An explosion rocked the air behind her as she turned, fishtailing the car onto the two-lane highway. Forest surrounded the road, with only a narrow gravel shoulder on both sides. Up ahead she saw a curve. She reprimanded herself for not paying closer attention to the roads, another slip of habit. She always knew the escape routes. Being with Will made her careless.

A mistake she’d never make again.

The rearview mirror reflected the headlights of a car turning onto the road, the taillights of another as it spun around. Two of them.

Easy.

She flipped the lights on high, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. Three-fifteen. That was good, fewer cars on the road, more room to maneuver. She gunned the gas, shooting for the outside edge of the curve ahead, praying that no one approached from the opposite direction. The car whipped around the curve .

So this was how the rich drove.

The two other cars were close behind, but Emma knew she could keep ahead of them with the Lexus. More gunshots echoed behind her as she led the cars toward town and a two-way stop, the flashing red lights a beacon. The high beams showed an empty intersection and straight road ahead for another quarter mile. An eighteen-wheeler approached on the cross highway from the left, barreling toward the crossroads. She punched the gas. If she could cross the intersection first—

She laid on the horn, her foot literally touching the floor, the two cars close behind. The speedometer inched close to one hundred. The rush of adrenaline combined with her fear was intoxicating.

She cast a glance toward the eighteen-wheeler, which didn’t show signs of slowing down. She gauged the distance between her and the truck. It was going to be close.

The eighteen-wheeler’s brake lights glowed in the darkness as the flashing red lights grew closer. The cars behind her still followed.

The town was less than a half-mile away. Tearing through with a high-speed chase was a sure way to get the police hot on her ass.

Goddamn, she wished she paid attention. She should have gone the other way.

She shot through the intersection. Straddling the center lane, the truck’s brakes screeching in the summer night and missing her car by a good thirty feet. One of the cars hit its brakes and skidded off the road. The other car made it through, hanging on her bumper.

Emma swerved to the right and took her foot off the gas, tapping the brakes. She wasn’t stupid enough to come to a complete stop. Pure physics foretold that impossibility, but she could use the bulletproof windows to her advantage, to turn the car around and head away from the town. She thought she’d seen a road sign pointing to Minneapolis.

The car behind her pulled up to the side and tried to shove her off the road. The Lexus had slowed, closer to sixty now. She hit the brakes, tires screaming. The car continued in front of her for several seconds. Emma used it to her advantage, turning the wheel hard when she thought she was slow enough, then hitting the emergency brake and swinging the car around in a 180-degree turn. She released the brake and stomped the gas heading for the highway to Minneapolis. It didn’t take long for the headlights of the other car to appear in her mirror.

***

Will’s phone vibrated in his shirt pocket. A quick glance told him it was James.

“We’ve got trouble.”

“What?” His heart lodged in his throat.

“My police scanner is screaming with an explosion at the Oak Tree Lodge and multiple gunshots.”

“Fuck!”

“Now there’s reports of a high-speed chase near the town.”

“She got a car.”

“What?”

“She got a car. She can drive like a bat out hell. Somehow she got a car. At least she has a fighting chance now.”

“Not if the police catch her first.”

“You’ve never seen her drive.”

***

Emma couldn’t believe the police hadn’t made an appearance yet. But now that she was on a state highway, the highway patrol couldn’t be far behind. She had to lose the other car and hide.

Think, Emma. Think.

She was on a four-lane divided highway, but she knew there were smaller roads opening onto the highway. A side road not too close to town seemed like a good plan.

Her high beams revealed an intersection ahead. The crossroad to the right was lined with houses. The left disappeared into woods. But it meant crossing to the other side of the highway and the car behind her was trying to pass her to the left.

Emma straddled the center line, swerving back and forth to keep the car behind her. At the last possible moment, she turned, shooting for the intersection at an angle rather than a curve, praying she didn’t flip the car. The other car slammed into her back bumper, adding to her momentum. She held the steering wheel as the car swerved sideways.

“Shit!” Her car barreled off the road into the ditch. Her head pitched to the side, smacking the side window, filling her vision with a white light.

She shook her head to clear it. “Oh, fuck no.” Clinging to the steering wheel, she gave the car enough gas to climb out of the ditch. She whipped her head around, pain shooting through her temple as she looked for the other vehicle. It lay flipped on its side in the median, leaving part of a street sign in its path.

Sirens blared in the distance.

Where could she hide?

The houses on the other side.

She spun around and crossed the lanes to the other side of the road, forcing herself to drive the speed limit. Houses lined the street for a half-mile until she saw a car repair shop on the right. She cut the headlights and slipped between two cars parked in the lot. The sirens in distance grew louder. Emma saw flashing red lights heading down the road in her direction.

She killed the engine and ducked onto the front seat, ignoring the instinct to run, but she knew she had little chance of escaping the police, especially the highway patrol. Her best hope now was to hide and wait them out. It was three-forty-five. At least she had a few hours before the mechanics showed up and found her.

***

Will answered his phone on the first ring.

“Three crashed cars but no woman. Just six men. They know there was another car involved from skid marks and ruts on the side of the highway, but they don’t know what kind of car nor where it is.”

“She got away.”

“For now.”

“Where the hell is she?”

***

To her irritation, she dozed off. She’d tried to stay awake, but her pounding head and perpetual exhaustion won out.

There was no use denying the source of the exhaustion anymore.

She watched the sun as it rose over the horizon, wondering where to go. Out of Minnesota, Raphael had said. Only one thing held her back.

Will.

But she had no idea where Will was. She didn’t even have his fucking phone number. Maybe Raphael was right. Maybe she didn’t need him. But that wasn’t exactly true, either. Raphael said she needed Will to gain her powers, whatever the hell those were. She only needed him until they developed.

If she didn’t have the baby.

If she didn’t have the baby
, an option she never even considered when she was pregnant with Jake, a child conceived in the most vile of circumstances. How could she consider terminating this baby conceived with Will?

Will
. How the hell did she feel about him, anyway? There was no denying her draw to him, the deep connection she felt when she admitted it. But it scared the hell out of her, completely trusting and committing to someone. That had never worked out for her before. And if she were honest with herself, the physical pull to Raphael was stronger.

I’m just like my mother
.

But she had to wonder about the source of her attraction to Raphael. There had to be more to it than just physical attraction. It was as if he held some power over her.

Out of nowhere, nausea and fear overwhelmed her. She fumbled with the door handle, barely getting the door open before she vomited onto the parking lot.

They’re back. Son of a fucking bitch
.

She had three options. One, sit here and see if they showed up. Not happening. Two, drive out of here, possibly getting into another car chase. Not the best the idea with the likelihood of police still looking for her. Three, get out and run.

Goddamn. And I just got a bulletproof car.

Maybe she could come back and get it. The thought cheered her up as she checked to make sure her gun was loaded. Climbing out of the car, she dropped the car keys in her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She crept along the side of the building looking for signs of trouble. She wondered if she had overreacted, if maybe her nausea had been morning sickness. But then she doubled over again, heaving the remaining contents of her stomach onto the dewy grass.

They were coming.

She knew it was going to be ugly. The number of men and cars increased after each failed attempt. They sent three cars hours ago. God only knew what they’d send this time. As long as she was still heaving, she knew they weren’t there yet.

She wasn’t sure which to wish for.

Raphael’s damned theory was wrong.

She was pissed, irrationally angry, but she welcomed the anger like a long-lost friend. She’d rather be angry than scared. Emma Thompson was done being scared and she was done being the pawn of men. She racked the slide of the gun.