Blacklisted (Young Adult Alien Huntress 2) - Page 35/47

Yep, the minute we’d pulled out of Silver’s drive, A.I.R. had made their presence known. They hadn’t rushed us as I’d feared, but had remained a safe distance behind, letting us know they were there without encroaching on our space.

I wondered if Silver and Shanel were having any luck.

“Maybe it’s time to try something else,” I said. I didn’t like being this close to those agents. Deep down I knew they probably were hoping we’d lead them to the Onadyn. Otherwise they would have busted into Silver’s house and arrested us. Still. They could change their minds at any moment and attack.

“Maybe you’re right.” Erik sighed. “We have to lose them because I have to get to the warehouse. I should have made an Onadyn delivery this morning, but…”

He didn’t have to finish. But. Yeah. We’d run into a lot of those lately. “You know, if I had known my trip to that nightclub would turn out this way, I still might have gone,” I said to distract him, to distract myself. “Can you believe that?”

“Yeah, I can. I think you’re a closet danger junkie.” He increased our speed and jetted off the highway and onto a service road. Several cars honked. Ours bounded up and down and swerved. “I wish the night had ended differently for you, though.”

“Hey, I met my objective, so I guess I can’t really complain. I got you to notice me.”

“Hell yeah, I noticed you. I noticed you the moment you stepped onto my floor. You’ve got the sweetest legs I’ve ever seen and I could hardly take my eyes off them to do business. Even when I spotted Cara, I could only think about you.”

Pleasure bloomed inside me. “Really?”

“Really.”

I grinned; I couldn’t help myself.

“Get ready for a bumpy ride.” He yanked the steering wheel left and we turned sharply.

I lost my smile and gripped the edge of my seat, sweat beading over my skin. Stay calm. Don’t think about it. Soon the road became gravel, and then the gravel disappeared altogether, leaving only dirt.

A fence appeared several yards in front of us.

“Uh, Erik.” He wasn’t slowing down. He was speeding up. “You’re going to hit—”

We rammed into the fence, knocking it over the top of the vehicle. I yelped. Trees appeared in every direction, tall, green, their branches scratching the metal car doors. I’d driven past this place several times and knew it was a government-protected forest, a place where oaks were being grown and nourished.

“Unbuckle,” Erik commanded.

Unbuckle? Uh, no. Not even for a million dollars.

“Unbuckle.”

“I’ll fly through the window if you crash.”

“Unbuckle,” he repeated, harshly this time. “We’re going to stop, jump out, and run like hell. And don’t even think about arguing again. Our other option is to jump out of the car while it’s still moving.”

Dear Lord. The trees thickened as he maneuvered left and right, right, right. My mouth dried. “I understand,” I managed to tell him. My hand shook as I unbuckled the only thing that would save me from slamming into the windshield if we crashed.

As promised, the car screeched to a halt without hitting anything. Immediately Erik opened the door, not waiting to command it to open, but shoving it open himself. I was a little slower, but was soon at his side. He clasped onto my hand and we raced into the dense forest.

I thought I heard the hum of another car, the slam of a few doors. Then my ragged breathing filled my ears and that was all I heard. Towering bark and leaves whipped past us. The thick foliage overhead kept us in welcome shadows and the scent of dirt and dew saturated the air.

I hope he knows what he’s doing.

“Don’t worry,” he panted as if he’d read my thoughts. He tossed me a wicked grin. The guy loved danger, apparently. “I know exactly where to take you.”

Ten minutes of running and my lungs started burning. Fifteen, and my legs started shaking. “I can’t go much farther,” I wheezed.

“We’re almost there,” he said between breaths. “You’re doing great. I’m proud of you. You can do it.”

The pep talk helped. Yes, I can do this. I would do this. I pumped my arms harder, pushing myself onward.

We came to an electric fence. I hunched over to suck in a great gulp of needed air, watching as Erik removed his cell unit from his pocket. He hooked the thin black box to the fence, careful not to let his skin touch the wires. There was a spark, then another. A few seconds later he said, “We’re good to go.”

Uh…what? “How?”

“The cell unit is specially designed to absorb and disable any electrical output.” He was already climbing as he explained. He stopped, reached out, and offered me a hand.

I took it, allowing him to hoist me up.

Once we hit solid ground, he reached through the holes in the fence and removed his phone. We maneuvered through back alleys and around crumbling buildings. An eternity passed. Soon there were raggedly dressed people wandering the sidewalks, others leaning against the walls and drinking from liquor bottles.

I kept throwing glances behind me to make sure we hadn’t been spotted. So far I hadn’t seen anyone suspicious, hadn’t seen any familiar faces.

Finally Erik stopped in front of a peeling blue door. Hand scan. A pop. He shoved open the wooden door—not metal as most were made of, I noticed—and jerked me inside. Drip. Drip. I could hear the slow fall of water droplets from somewhere in the building as Erik used a piece of timber to block the door.

“I know we lost them in the woods,” he said. “We’re safe now. We’ll stay here until nightfall, then head to the warehouse.”

“Call Silver and make sure he and Shanel are okay.” I placed a hand over my heart, hoping to slow its frantic beat.

He shook his head and pounded forward, into the small but well-stocked kitchen. “Not yet. I don’t want to distract him if—” He pressed his lips together and refused to finish.

If they’re being chased, I mentally finished on my own. They weren’t, I assured myself. They were safe.

As a distraction—I seemed to need those a lot lately—I glanced around. “What is this place?” There was a black couch, two chairs, a TV, and a table and stove. All the comforts of home. And yet it appeared forgotten. Not lived-in. Dust painted every surface gray and musky. Specks even glinted in the air.

“This is one of my safe houses,” was the response. He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one at me.