CHAPTER 35
You tell me.”
Robin shook Glory hard enough that Nik pulled her away. “Don’t push her. Mirren being sick is making her sick. She’s doing the best she can.”
Damn it, she didn’t care. She pushed Nik away and got on her knees in front of Glory, who cradled a half-conscious Mirren against her and rocked and cried. Robin wanted the chance to do that for Cage.
“Where were they when Aidan called Krys? You were here. Where were they?”
Glory swallowed hard. “I’m trying to remember. Aidan called just after eleven p.m., and they were on I-85 just leaving Atlanta. I think that’s right.” She winced and pressed a hand against her temple.
“And how long after that before Krys started getting sick?” From what garbled mess she’d been able to interpret, Krys had the tightest bond with Aidan, so it made sense she’d be the first one to feel it if he were hurt. Robin still had trouble believing all that bond-mate stuff, but something was making them sick. “How long, Glory?”
“An hour maybe, or forty-five minutes. About that.”
Robin patted Glory’s knee and got up, edging past Nik. He grabbed her arm. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find them. And don’t try to stop me.”
Nik followed her into the bedroom. “I’m not stopping you. I’m going with you.”
Robin grabbed the pouch she wore around her leg when she shifted, stuck her cell phone inside, and strapped it around her ankle. Around her neck she tied a little genius thing of her own invention, a scarf that would unroll large enough to serve as a dress—just in case she had to make nice with some humans.
“I can go faster without you.” God, that sounded harsh. She looked up at Nik and whispered, “I have to find him.”
He smiled. “I know. Okay, then. I’m going to start driving. When you find them, call me and I’ll find you. If they’re outside, we’ve gotta get them in before dawn.”
She wrapped her arms around him, taking comfort in his warmth and the fact that he never, ever doubted her. “I love you, Niko.”
“Good thing. You need me.”
She couldn’t argue with him on that one. “Yeah, you right.” They laughed at the New Orleans-ism.
“How’s Krys?” Robin looked across the hall, where they’d put Krys on Nik’s bed. Both Mark and Melissa were sick, too, and Britta was in the subspace below Aidan’s house. What a fucked-up mess vampires were.
“Still the same. In a human, I’d say she was in a coma. I don’t know what the vampire equivalent of that is. And hey”—Nik squeezed her shoulder—“be careful. We don’t know who’s still out there.”
Yeah, Fen Patrick, for one.
On her way out, Robin noticed the small packet of cigars on her nightstand—she’d refused to let Cage smoke one in the house. She picked them up and tucked them into the pouch with her phone. He could smoke them all he wanted if he’d just be okay. Please let him be okay.
You’ve gone a little off track in your life to be bargaining with God, little bird. She shook her head. He was talking to her, and he wasn’t even here.
She kissed Nik good-bye, took a final look at Mirren—a slab of pale marble, still and silent—and knew she had to save Cage and Aidan both if there was any way to do it. Somehow, in only a week, she’d come to love these people. Vampires. Whatever.
She undressed on the porch, shook her shoulders loose, and shifted, taking off northeast. The night was clear and cool, and there were no headwinds to fight. She’d alternate flying at about thirty miles per hour until she got a good burst of air, then she’d glide at a hundred twenty.
Staying over the tree line, she kept the interstate in her sights, diving low when she thought she saw a gleam of metal or glass.
Near the Georgia-Alabama state line, she saw it—what was left of Aidan’s car, overturned in the wide median near a stand of trees next to a steep drop-off. Glass littered the highway, and she saw a big rig slow down to take a look as it passed. The driver sped up and kept going, but chances were good he’d report it—if someone hadn’t already. She had to find them.
She circled the area, looking for a landing spot where she could be away from sight of the highway, and that’s when she saw it—a dark spot in the side of a low mountain, less than a mile from the wreck. A cave. If they were alive, she might be able to take them there until Nik could reach them.
Better not plan too far ahead, little bird.
Robin chose a spot on the other side of the stand of trees to shift, out of sight of both sides of the interstate highway, quickly untying the scarf and wrapping it around her in case the state police showed up. She’d have to do enough fast talking in that case without trying to do it naked.