Bound by Prophecy Read online

Chapter Seven

  Change of Plans

  I’d already told her too much. Emily was no minor player, she wasn’t simply a victim unwittingly caught up in her sister’s mess. There was no safe house in existence that could hold her. She was determined to save her sister, and, one way or another, she’d unquestionably end up in the middle of it all.

  And just because I couldn’t seem to get her to do what I wanted didn’t mean Morgan wouldn’t.

  I was going to have to do something different, and I didn’t like having to change my plans. Annoyed, I took my eyes from the road to glance over at her where she leaned against the window, knees pulled up and thumb wrapped inside the seatbelt at her shoulder. She was staring out into the night, and the tiny strands of hair that had pulled loose from her ponytail caught the light of the oncoming car.

  Had I not been staring at her, I would have missed the truck that was passing that car, lights off and heading straight for Emily.

  She screamed.

  I swerved and ran the car up over the curb, but wasn’t able to avoid impact. The truck slammed the rear quarter of the car, spinning us around in the intersection, where another car smashed into the front panel on my side. We were pinned, but still moving. Tearing metal screeched through the car and Emily’s wide eyes found me as she searched for escape. I released the buckle on her safety belt and tried to push my door open. It was stuck, jammed from the collision with the other car which, judging from the horrified look on the driver’s face, must have been involved only by chance.

  The window was jammed as well, so I turned to climb over the back seat and saw Emily grasping for the handle on her side.

  “No!” I yelled.

  Her head whipped around to first find me, and then, realizing why I’d stopped her, the truck that was even now pushing against the back of our car.

  I was over the seat in a heartbeat and dragged Emily behind me. The only warning I gave her before opening the door was, “Run. Don’t stop, don’t look behind you.”

  I had her arm and was towing her for the first few steps, but once we hit sidewalk, she was running. I could hear the engine of the truck revving behind us, but it was trapped in the chaos of a six-car pile-up, and had to plow through several stopped vehicles to reach us. It did just that.

  “Turn,” I yelled, and Emily listened, heading straight down the first side street. Two more blocks, and we’d have been on the interstate. They should have let us. It would have worked.

  “Right,” I said at the next block. We’d gotten lucky. We had a chance. But how had he found us?

  “Aern,” Emily called from beside me, “you’re bleeding.”

  I pressed Emily closer to the buildings as we ran, dodging an elderly couple with a pushcart. When I glanced down, I saw the long gash on my arm from the twisted metal of the car. “I’m fine,” I said. “Are you all right?”

  She laughed breathlessly as we sprinted down another block and turned left.

  When we finally stopped running, the whirr of emergency sirens was only a distant hum. Emily leaned against the back entrance of a Chinese restaurant, gasping for breath while I decided what to do first.

  “I need to make a call,” I said.

  Emily nodded and pushed against the wall to standing.

  The door banged open and I shoved her back, pressing my own body alongside hers as a dishwasher slung a bin of food scrap into the trash. He spared us no more than a disapproving head shake as he turned and spotted us, a couple of delinquents making out in the alley, so I grabbed the door right before it slammed behind him.

  “What are you doing?” Emily hissed.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. “Don’t move.”

  I peeked in to find a short hall that split toward the kitchen and two alcoves. The one to the right, the only one I could see into from my vantage point, held the alarm system and electrical box. I was hoping the one on the left had what we needed.

  Through the steam of stir-fry, I watched the cooks and staff for a pattern. Seeing there was none, I took a chance and slipped inside the door and around the corner.

  Jackpot.

  I found two jackets, a ball cap, and the cell phone before I threw a few more items on the haul for good measure. When I peered around the corner to check the coast, it was all clear. The sizzle and clatter of the kitchen didn’t falter so I didn’t expect anyone to follow us, but I didn’t test our luck. When I shoved the door open, Emily lurched back, having been standing right next to it, and I grabbed her arm to run with me to the end of the alley and behind another dumpster.

  “What—” She stopped mid-sentence to examine the jacket I shoved at her. “You’re kidding,” she said.

  I smiled. “It’ll look good on you. Besides, I didn’t have time to be picky.”

  Her eyes narrowed on me, but she slid her arms into the gold silk sleeves.

  I shrugged on a dark twill jacket and pulled the baseball cap low on my head. It only made things worse.

  “This is so unfair,” she said. “You look like The Bourne Identity and I look like Big Trouble in Little China.”

  I laughed. “What? I like the embroidered dragon on the back. It’s cute. Now put this scarf over your head.”

  She jerked the red and purple crochet scarf from my hand. “Right, because I wasn’t standing out enough already.”

  I took a few steps toward the end of the alley to scope out a car while she tied her scarf. When I turned back, another laugh escaped.

  She crossed her arms, but the movement only made the material of her jacket puff up more. “It’s not my fault,” she said. “Tying scarfs was not covered in my mother’s curriculum.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, reining in the laugher. “Let me.” I unknotted the ball she’d formed beneath her chin and draped it over her head to wrap around and cross over the lower portion of her face.

  When I finished, she was staring up at me. “Did you find us a new car?”

  I gave her a questioning look.

  “Because I was thinking, a truck might be better. Or a tank.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not what we’re using it for this time.” I held the cell phone up. “I’ve got to make a call. When I’m done, keep up.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her baffled expression. I dialed Brendan’s personal cell, the only one I was certain wouldn’t be tracked.

  He answered, “Go ahead.”

  “It’s me,” I said. I could almost hear the relief in his silence. “I need to bring something in.”

  “I’ve heard. Is she hurt?”

  “No, but not for lack of trying.”

  “Should we pick you up?”

  I glanced at Emily. “No. We’ll make it to the drop point late tomorrow. Just get us from there.”

  “Got it. And Aern?”

  I waited.

  “Keep her safe.”

  The call disconnected and I read the screen. One full second ahead of a possible trace time. I didn’t risk it.

  I grabbed Emily’s hand and headed for the car that was double-parked on the busy street, pushing her around the rear quarter as I dropped the cell into a crack in the open window. I crossed the street quickly and she followed as instructed, keeping tucked just behind me with her head down. I shoved my hands in my pockets and raised my shoulders as if I were chilled by the wind, then picked up my pace.

  Several blocks later, I turned into the lobby of a busy hotel. I could see Emily follow in the reflection of the glass front windows.

  “Look at the brochures,” I said quietly. “I’ll get us a room.”

  She stood in the foyer while I crossed the lobby to the elevators. I pressed the button twice and glanced up at the numbers above the door as any guest would. The first time it opened, a family of four went in.

  I waved them on. “I’ll grab the next one.”

  The little boy took the opportunity to slide his hand over the entire bottom half of the floor buttons. His mother smacked his fingers away and
groaned.

  A graying businessman sidled up beside me, chuckling at the scene. “Excuse me,” I said, touching his forearm where it rested on the handle of his rolling suitcase.

  Minutes later, I leaned around the corner and waved Emily over.

  She glanced at the agitated businessman as she passed him on his way to the doors. “What’s wrong with him?” she whispered.

  “Bed bugs.” I shrugged. “Said he was going to stay at the Marriott on Ninth.”

  Her face twisted.

  “Don’t worry,” I told her. “The receptionist assured me it wasn’t true.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but before she could examine the distance between us and the reception desk, the elevator doors dinged open and I urged her in.