Eye of the Storm (5 page)

"She didn't listen," Asher says softly. I see that grief again. "Eve went after him She didn't find him in time, but she found someone else. I never met the witch and her flunky who cornered Eve. They were ready to sic that newborn shade on her, but she saved herself with her knowledge. She convinced them she was a hells-worshipper."

Oh.
 

Next to me, a tiny bit of the tension goes out of my brother. Finally, something Asher said pings something he knows. He remembers what she's saying. Something in me relaxes marginally.
 

"How the fuck did she make the jump from
demonology just saved my life
to
hey, let's splat myself to bring a shade into the world
?" Mira says what I'm thinking. Again.

Asher looks at me this time, though the tenderness in her eyes is new. I wonder what she's seeing. I wonder if she's seeing tiny bundle of baby Ayala or just a reflection of her lifelong friend. Her gaze moves to Evis, but the tenderness stays.
 

"She thought she found a way to help you."

"By dying?" I can't keep the incredulity out of my voice.
 

"By sending you a brother who she felt certain would love you and fight beside you. She couldn't reach you. He could."

Evis and I look at each other.
 

"She loved me," he says.

"She did," I tell him.
 

"I almost ruined everything." His face falls, and his whole body looks ready to crumble in on itself.
 

I put my arms around his shoulders. "You didn't almost ruin anything," I say into his bare shoulder. "Gregor ruined everything. And he's dead now, so don't you let him keep ruining things."

Asher looks confused, but I don't feel like explaining right now.
 

I turn back to her, one arm still around Evis. "You helped her."

Asher nods. "She was going to do it with or without my help. I thought that if I helped her, maybe there was some sort of chance. Looking at the two of you together, I'm glad I did. I don't think he'd be standing here if I hadn't."

Even though she's pretty much tooting her own horn for saving Evis's life, I can't blame her.
 

I'm done talking for now. My stomach gurgles, and although I just got up less than an hour and a half ago, I feel like going back to bed.
 

Until we hear from Alamea, we've got plenty of time to hear more about Asher and her relationship with my mother, but for now, I just need food.
 

"Have you eaten?" I ask Asher.

She shakes her head, and that settles it. Conversation over for now. Breakfast.

The shades offer Asher the guest room that night when we finally make it through the day.

I'm not sure what to do or think. For a long time before Mira and I go to bed, Evis sits with me in our bedroom and we look through the album Asher brought. I can hear Asher snoring softly in the guest room; the walls aren't exactly thick.
 

Forty years, she said they were friends. I must have mistaken Asher's age, which makes her pregnancy even more bizarre.
 

"Nothing?" I say to Evis.
 

He shakes his head. For all his stillness, I can almost feel his skin vibrating with agitation. He recognizes our mother in the pictures, of that I have no doubt. But watching his face as he pages through the album from front to back and then back to front, it feels like watching someone with amnesia trying to believe what people are telling them about a life that seems like someone else's.
 

"Why don't you sleep in here with us tonight?" Mira surprises me by suggesting it. I notice she says
with us
.
 

As much as I hate being hemmed in, I slide into the middle of the bed with Mira on one side and Evis on the other. He's donned shorts, which I know he hates. I may see my brother naked every day, but it seems like he's just as squicked as I am by the idea of any chance encounters of my skin and his nether bits. I push that awkward train of thought right off the rails and pull the covers up to my chin. Evis keeps the photo album clutched tight to his chest and won't put it on the bedside table when Mira mentions it.
 

She looks at me. I shrug. Part of me thinks I'd do the same if he hadn't non-verbally called dibs.

I can't say I blame him.
 

We're awakened only a few short hours later by the sound of a giant bell ringing out through the cabin.

I sit straight up in bed.
 

"Wards," I say to Mira, whose black hair is stuck to her face even though her eyes are alert.
 

Evis is already on his feet.

"Mason!" I holler through the cabin, but he's already at our door, opening it.
 

"North wards, and east."

Fuck. I scramble out of bed and start yanking my leathers over my sleep-warmed legs. Jax is nowhere to be seen, but Nana snuffles in her cage at the foot of the bed. I hear the guest room door open.
 

"Was that your wards?" Asher asks.

"Yep," says Mira. "Got anything that might help us?"

I look to Mason. "If they're coming from two directions, this has to be a coordinated attack."

"Demon or Mediator, though?" It's a question I hate even before it's out of Mason's mouth.

Asher's eyes go cloudy, and I feel something, a surge of energy I'm not used to feeling around witches. Must be another side effect of my shade-blood tattoo.
 

"Hellkin," she says after a moment. She points to the north, then moves her arm in an arc. "They're fanning out."

"They're not thinking too well," I say. "If they'd come from the southwest, they could block our escape."

"Escape?" Asher frowns.

I ignore the question and meet Mira's eyes as she buttons her leather pants. We could fight; we both know it. But we don't know how many are there, and if a lucky slummoth takes us out, I don't know what that could mean for the Summit. Or the world. I don't have too many delusions of grandeur, but my cynicism about the Summit's ability to not fuck things up is at an all-time high. Fight or run. I know we need to run. Mira nods.
 

This cabin was a nice home while it lasted.
 

It's past time for us to be where we're really needed. To hell with any Mediators at the Summit who try and get me dead.

CHAPTER FOUR

It's a damn good thing we've all been living out of our bug-out bags, because we've got all the luggage thrown into the van within literal minutes of getting pants on our asses. Nana's in the back with Jax, and Mason and Evis sit on either side of Asher in the center seats. I miss my car, but I'm glad Alamea let us use this people-mover to go to and fro. With a little luck, Carrick and my car made it to Nashville in peace. My phone still doesn't show any messages from him. I try my best not to think the worst.
 

Mira hops in the driver's seat just as I see movement through the trees to the north. The sky isn't lightening demonstrably. It's eerie how much better I see in the dark these days.
 

"Go," I say, trying to keep the unnecessary urgency out of my voice.

The van lurches forward.
 

None of us speak as Mira speeds us down the driveway of the cabin. If we live through the coming days or weeks, we'll come back for whatever we left.
 

In the red lights of the van's tail, I can see shapes pursuing us.
 

Lots of shapes.

"Faster," says Jax. His fingers are twined through the bars of Nana's cage.
 

The van accelerates.
 

"I'm going to have to brake to get on the main road," Mira says through gritted teeth. "Are they gaining?"

"Yes," says Mason, craning his head to look out the rear windows.
 

My heart feels like a full section of percussion.
 

Asher murmurs something under her breath, and the roiling shadows behind the van surge backward — away from us. "That should help," she says.

Mira looks at her in the rearview mirror, but doesn't respond.
 

"They're falling off," says Jax.

"They'll regroup in a minute, but it should give you time to get on the main road." Asher runs her hands over her belly and leans back against the headrest on her seat.
 

Next to her, Evis has the album in his lap.

Mira takes the turn onto the road, only slowing as much as she needs to avoid rolling the van. As soon as the wheels churn over asphalt instead of muddy gravel, she guns it. The two-fifty horses in the engine roar into being, and we're off.
 

We're all quiet for several minutes. Slowly, my pulse resumes its normal thudding, but my mouth still tastes tinny. The fading adrenaline leaves me tired. I leave a message for Carrick letting him know we're on our way south, then do the same for Alamea. That neither of them answer makes the adrenaline prickle at me again.
 

"Have you heard from Saturn or anyone?" I ask Mira after I hang up on Alamea's voicemail box.

"No," she says. "Not in a couple days."

The road ahead of us is empty in the early morning darkness, and considering we're fleeing a pack of demons, it feels eerier than it should under more normal circumstances.
 

"I feel like this is a time we should be more in touch with each other, not less," I mutter. I hear Mason's agreeing
mm-hmm
from behind me, and Mira nods.
 

Unable to bear the silence any longer, I turn on the radio and am immediately greeted with the harsh beeping of the emergency signal.
 

"That's not good," says Mira.
 

"Nope." The adrenaline's back with a metallic-flavored vengeance. I don't feel tired anymore.
 

"This is the Emergency Broadcast System," says a too-soothing male voice. "The United States territory east of the Mississippi River is in a state of emergency. Residents are urged to avoid urban areas, find a secure location, and stay indoors as much as possible. If you are a resident of Nashville, Chattanooga, Lexington, Louisville, Memphis, Little Rock, Bowling Green, Crossville, or Knoxville, evacuation routes have been posted on the city website and all news outlets."

That's all it says. I don't like the sound of that.
 

We make it another thirty minutes south before the voice on the radio gets irrevocably tied in with the road we're on. Mira gets on the Interstate 65 on-ramp just south of Bowling Green, and as soon as we make the curve onto the freeway itself, we see tail lights. Not brake lights. The headlights on the opposite side of the divider are unmoving.
 

There are cars scattered about the interstate, and only some of them have lights on. None are moving. At a crawl, Mira maneuvers the van through the parked vehicles.
 

"I don't see anyone in them," she says.
 

Neither do I.
 

"Blood," Jax says, his voice so dispassionate he might have just said it's cloudy outside.

He's right. The second he remarks on it, I smell it too. I don't see it yet, but it's dark and even with night vision, red's not going to stand out much. Mira creeps forward with the van.
 

"These cars have been abandoned long enough for the batteries to start going dead," she says.

"Some of them have keys in them." Evis points out the window.

Keys in the ignition. At least some of these people left in a hurry. There's not many options around us for where they could have gone.
 

Find a secure location
, the radio said.
 

For how long? It's not like every cellar in Kentucky has a stash of MREs and emergency water.
 

"We're not going to be able to make it too far in the van," says Mira, pointing ahead. It's the first real wreck — an SUV t-boned a sedan, almost blocking the highway. "I can get around that, but we're bound to come to something we can't get around before we hit Nashville."