CHAPTER TEN
By the end of the week, Kamara felt like a completely new person. Since she and Nikolai had claimed each other, she hadn’t experienced a single episode. No voices, no fugues, no loss of time—it had been pure bliss.
Free of her sire’s influence, she’d spent the week getting to know her mate’s siblings, and learning about her semi-magical heritage from Kayse. Knowledge was power, and in this case, it went a long way in calming her anxiety. Kayse had helped her to realize that she’d always been a Seer. The only thing that had changed was that she now had a name for it.
She wasn’t magical in the strictest sense, though there had apparently been a witch somewhere in her family tree once upon a time. Seers couldn’t cast spells or turn people into toads. They couldn’t locate missing objects or people.
Kamara just had dreams that sometimes came true. If she thought of it more like being psychic, it didn’t seem quite as bad.
Naturally, Nikolai still worried. He reminded her repeatedly that it would best if they kept her abilities between them, because if anyone else found out what she could do, they’d try to use her like they’d used Kayse. Kamara agreed, but there was one major flaw in that plan.
Elias Diavolos.
He knew what she was, or at least, he suspected. She didn’t think he’d tell anyone. No, he’d want that power for himself, and he wouldn’t risk someone else finding her first. Still, the fact remained that he wanted her abilities, and a little voice in the back of her head said that he’d never stop looking for her.
Placing a white cooler of blood bags into the back of their SUV—blood from actual, voluntary donors, not the blood farm in Dallas—Kamara closed the hatchback door and thumped her palm against the rear window.
“All set.” Dressed in a black, long-sleeved shirt and a matching pair of utility pants that actually fit, she turned to those gathered in the driveway. “Thank you everything. I hope I’ll see you again.”
“I’m sure you will,” Jonah answered, pulling her into a brief hug. “Be careful.”
“Are you sure you won’t let me come with you?” Veronica released her brother and turned to hug Kamara.
“Nik’s right.” Kamara squeezed her tight. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Don’t worry,” Syrus said, pulling his sister back so he could hug Kamara, “We’ll be right behind you.”
He’d kind of grown on her, and she was happy to have him on their side.
After a lot of discussion and a few heated arguments, her mate had been forced to admit that his siblings had grown up in his absence. Now, this was as much their fight as it was his. He’d given up everything to protect them, and finally, they were repaying that sacrifice.
Kayse couldn’t fight, and just the topic alone had sent her into a spiral that had lasted several hours. She needed to be somewhere outside of the daily wars that waged around them, and more importantly, she needed Jonah.
So, until Elias was dead, she’d be moved to a new location, somewhere the siblings had set up years ago in the event that their father ever found them. Kamara didn’t know where, and she didn’t want to know. She wouldn’t take any chances with Kayse’s safety.
Syrus had insisted that Heather also stay behind at the safe house, which had led to a rather vehement disagreement that had ended in wall-banging, furniture-smashing sex that could be heard throughout the mansion. Clearly, fate had chosen well when pairing the two.
In the end, Heather had agreed, but only because she felt Kayse needed her, or so she’d said. After that, it had just been a matter of hammering out the details.
Nikolai’s siblings would all travel to this safe house and get Jonah, Kayse, and Heather settled. In three days, Syrus and Veronica would meet them in some rural Oklahoma town Kamara had never known existed so they could plot how to take down King Elias Diavolos.
Yes, Abby was her friend, and she’d made a promise to protect her, but Nikolai was her mate. Abby had a dozen people ready to give their lives for her, but Nikolai had no one. Despite the guilt that gnawed at her, it had been an easy decision to make.
Elias had to be stopped. He’d tormented his children, sacrificed innocent people to Ravagers, and he seemed to enjoy inflicting pain and suffering wherever he went. He’d turned Kamara, manipulated her, made her think she was crazy, and she knew in her heart that he’d never stop looking for her.
She hoped the sire bond was broken, but she had no way to know for sure. Nikolai had said more than once that his father liked to play games, and it wasn’t hard to imagine that this was one of them. He’d make her think the link was severed so she’d let her guard down, then lead him right to everyone who meant anything to her.
None of them would be free until they removed him from their lives—permanently.
Then, and only then, would she rejoin the others in Colorado.
“Stay safe.” With his hand on her lower back, Nikolai gave her a little push toward the passenger side of the vehicle. “Three days. Oklahoma.”
“Three days,” Syrus confirmed. “Good luck.”
More goodbyes were said, a few tears cried, a promise made, and five minutes later, they were on the road, headed for Oklahoma.
“It’s going to be a long trip,” Nikolai said, reaching across the center console to brush the back of his hand up and down her neck. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”
Kamara shivered, sighing happily as tingles swept through her body. “If you keep touching me like that, we’re never going to make it anywhere.”
Nikolai chuckled, but he withdrew his hand. “Get some sleep, cara mia. I’ll wake you when we stop.”
Leaning her seat back, she folded her jacket under her head and settled in, letting the hum of the road lull her. She didn’t know exactly when she fell asleep, but she recognized the setting all too well when she tumbled into one of her worst nightmares.
It was a few weeks after the Purge, at the height of the infection and before the Coalition had turned the country into their personal playground. Her friends were gone, her family dead, and for days on end, she’d wandered aimlessly without a destination in mind. First, she’d traveled southwest to Pennsylvania, scavenging supplies and searching for survivors. While she’d found lots of dead, rotting bodies, she’d met very few of the living variety. From there, she’d zigzagged across the Midwest, still in search of somewhere she could feel safe, but never lingering in one place for more than a few days.
By the time she’d reached Chicago, she’d lost count of how long she had been traveling. In many places, the earth had started to reclaim the urban jungles, bringing with it the wildlife that had once been regulated to the sparse forests. The same appeared to be true for Chicago, but it wasn’t a pack of animals that chased her this night.
Sprinting through the parking lot of an abandoned shopping center, she wove in and out of the graveyard of abandoned cars, searching for a place to hide. Boots pounded heavily over the asphalt behind her, the sound growing louder as a pack of terrifying monsters closed in on her. The inhuman growling bounced off the buildings and cars, chilling her, but she didn’t dare look back.
While not animals, the things chasing her weren’t entirely human, either. They looked mostly like men, though their skin appeared ash gray and their pupils bled out to the corners to consume the entirety of their eyes in inky onyx. They moved fast, like liquid lightning, swarming through the parking lot in single-minded pursuit of their quarry—which in this case happened to be her.
Her lungs burned, and the muscles in her thighs screamed in protest from the exertion, but she kept running, scanning the storefronts for an open door or broken window. Turning the corner, she nearly wept in relief when she spotted an empty storefront, its window broken and the display ransacked. Driving by a strong survival instinct, she raced toward the dark department store and dove through the shattered window. Her shoelace caught on a jagged piece of glass still lodged inside the frame, sending her crashing to the ground with a painful grunt.
She didn’t stop, though. Rolling quickly, she shoved up from the floor, wincing as the scattered glass stabbed into her palms. On her feet, heart pounding, blood dripping from both palms, she forced herself to keep going, sprinting for the shadows at the back of the store. Even in the waning light, she could see the place had already been looted, leaving overturned shelves and mostly-empty clothing racks amongst the other debris. She didn’t need overpriced T-shirts and gaudy costume jewelry, though. She needed a place to hide.
Nearing the back wall of the cavernous store, she cut to the right, tripping over broken merchandise strewn in the center of the aisle before practically falling through the door to the women’s restroom. The door swung closed behind her, casting the room into complete blackness, forcing her to feel her way to the handicap stall at the end of the row.
In the corner between the wall and the toilet, she pressed her back to the wall and slid down to the floor, pulling her knees up close to her chest. Pressing both hands over her mouth, she tried to calm her breathing as she strained to hear any sounds from beyond the door. After several stressful minutes had passed, she relaxed a degree, but she knew she couldn’t stay there.
The scene changed, the darkness giving way to blinding sunlight and soaring temperatures. Sweat trickled down the center of her back, making her tank top cling her skin. She had no food, only a single bottle of water left, and she felt like every step could be her last.
She shuffled north along the interstate, her boots scraping over the burning asphalt. Every inch of her hurt like the ten shades of hell. Partly because of dehydration and exhaustion, but mostly because of the ass-beating she’d taken just after crossing the state line into Oklahoma.
It wasn’t the first time she’d tangled with a group of Raiders, and she doubted it would be the last.
As the months passed and the Coalition began to take control, it had been harder to find supplies. The humans who managed to escape the clutches of the Gemini had done so by staying on the move and keeping out of sight. Starving and desperate, they did whatever it took to survive, even taking from each other, forcibly if necessary.
It was the law of the land, and she couldn’t blame the Raiders for taking what they could. Hell, she’d done the same thing, only she’d never hurt anyone.
Her jaw throbbed, her back cramped, and her ribs ached, but it could have been worse. She could have died. With summer settling over the South, blanketing the long days in humid, sweltering heat, she might still. If heatstroke didn’t get her, dehydration surely would.
The midday sun beat down on her shoulders, sapping what little energy she had left. The dizziness didn’t bother her as much as the nausea, and her burning muscles caused only minor annoyance. She’d passed an abandoned mobile home park a few miles back, and she damned herself for not finding shelter there when she’d had the chance, but it was still early in the day, and she had to keep moving. Nothing good came from staying too long in one place.
“Kamara, I’m so tired. Can we please just rest here?”
The memory of Jordan’s plea echoed through her mind, sharp and clear, as if it hadn’t been nearly three months since she’d lost her.
“Ten minutes. I know you’re tired, but we need to keep going. It’s not safe here.”
Those ten minutes had cost them everything.
She’d replayed that night a hundred times, torturing herself with all the things she could have done differently. Really, it hadn’t been her fault. She’d fought like hell and had barely escaped the Ravagers with her own life. Accepting that she’d done everything she could to save Jordan didn’t make losing her hurt any less.
As she passed the next mile marker, her legs began to tremble, protesting her weight. She made it only a dozen more steps before her knees buckled, and gravity took over, pulling her down to the painted asphalt. Falling to her side, she hissed when the heat from the highway scorched her skin, and dredged up just enough energy to roll into the grass on the shoulder of the road.
Groaning in exhaustion, she sprawled in the tall weeds, arms and legs splayed, and stared up at the offending sun. She just needed a minute. Maybe two. Then she’d be able to continue along the highway and find shelter before nightfall.
A flock of birds—big, ugly things with massive wings and hooked beaks—circled overhead, drawing closer with each rotation.
“I’m not dead yet, assholes,” she mumbled.
She would be soon if she didn’t move, though.
Hell, maybe she should just give up, die, and get it over with. She could prolong the inevitable, draw out the pain and suffering, or she could accept her fate and stop pretending she had everything under control.
Of all the ways she’d imagined her death, being eaten alive by scavenging birds hadn’t crossed her mind. The buzzards continued to circle, drawing closer, growing braver, until they finally landed with a whoosh of wings. Within seconds, they converged on her, surrounded her, and ripped at her flesh with their pointed beaks.
She cried out, throwing her arms to the side in a feeble attempt to ward off her attackers. Maybe she’d survive today only to die the next day, or the day after that, but she’d be damned if she’d go out like week-old road kill.
“Go away!”
Feathers rustled against her face when the birds flapped their wings and rose into the air, but they retreated only long enough to regroup. The biggest one screeched, returning to land on her chest. His talons pierced her skin, tearing and ripping as he pecked at her, scoring her face with his sharp beak.
Blood seeped from the gashes, mingling with her sweat to soak her shirt and pool in the grass beneath her. No matter how much she yelled or fought back, the birds only seemed to grow bolder.
“No! Stop!”
Jerking awake with a loud scream, Kamara kicked at the dashboard and threw her arms wide, accidently punching her mate in the shoulder. The vehicle swerved, and Nikolai cursed under his breath before regaining control and steering them back onto the highway.
“Hey, easy,” he said, his voice unsteady as he reached over and squeezed her thigh. “It was just a dream.”
Sagging back in her seat, she covered her eyes with her arm and groaned. “It was more like a memory.” She stopped, frowned. “Well, parts of it anyway. I never got anyone killed, and I sure as hell didn’t almost get pecked to death by buzzards.”
Nikolai was quiet for so long she lifted her arm to peek up at him.
“I have no idea what that means,” he finally commented, his eyes straight ahead as they sped down the highway. “Care to elaborate?”
“I was dreaming about the first night I ever saw a Ravager. It was in Chicago, and I had to hide in the bathroom of some department store.”
“That must have been terrifying.”
“Considering I didn’t even know Gemini existed at the time, you could say that.”
“So, who did you get killed?”
Kamara lifted one shoulder. “No one I know. Apparently, I got her eaten by Ravagers, though.”
“I somehow doubt that. You’re too smart for that.”
Oh, if he kept that up, he was totally getting laid later. “Thank you. That’s what I said.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “What about these buzzards?”
“I was laying on the side of the highway, and there were these big birds attacking me. They were pecking at me, ripping my skin, and this big one was standing on my chest.” Just the memory of it made her shudder. “They were eating me alive. I don’t recommend it.”
He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Don’t. It was weird.” Pulling the lever on the side of her seat, she raised it back to its upright position and yawned. “How long was I asleep?”
“Four hours, give or take. We’re coming up on the Oklahoma border.”
“Four hours! Crap, I’m sorry, Nik. You should have woken me up sooner.” It would have been faster to cut through Texas, but she understood why he’d want to avoid passing anywhere near Dallas.
Nikolai lifted his sunglasses to rub his right eye, then slid them back into place. “Why? You needed the rest, and it’s not like I had any reason to wake you.”
Maybe not, but he shouldn’t have to shoulder all the driving while she snoozed the entire trip. “Do you want me to drive for a while so you can take a nap?”
“I’m good for a while. We can switch the next time we stop for gas.”
“Next time?” How she’d slept through the commotion of a busy gas station, she had no idea. “Okay, maybe I did need that nap more than I thought. I’m not normally such a heavy sleeper.”
“Your body had been through a lot, and there’s hasn’t been much downtime to recuperate.”
Ten minutes after passing a green highway sign welcoming them to the Sooner State, the SUV slowed as they approached a four-way intersection.
Kamara looked over at her mate. “Why are you slowing down?”
“There’s a stop sign.”
They were alone on some back road in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, surrounded by nothing but forests on both sides, and he wanted to obey conventional traffic laws.
Biting her thumbnail, Kamara shook her head and grinned. “This seems like a weird place for an intersection. There’s nothing around for miles.” Before he could answer, she waved her hand. “Never mind. Pull over at that creepy gas station.”
Situated off the right-hand side of the main road, the station looked more like someone’s house than a business. The only reason she’d realized it was a convenient store was because of the island with four gas pumps, and a hand-painted sign over the awning that proclaimed the place sold live bait.
“It looks abandoned.”
Everything from sun-bleached beer cans to old tires littered the parking lot, and a trash bin beside the front door overflowed with paper bags and Styrofoam containers. Both windows on the front of the building had been shattered, and the rusted screen door hung crookedly in its frame, kept upright by a single hinge.
“It’s definitely abandoned, but I have to pee.”
“Oh.” Nikolai cleared his throat. “Right. Okay.”
Snickering when he used his turn signal before pulling into the parking lot, Kamara popped open the glove compartment and pulled out a 9mm handgun. After double checking the number of rounds, she slid the magazine back into place with a metallic clack and chambered the first bullet.
Once the vehicle had stopped, she flung her door open and jumped out onto the cracked cement, groaning as she stretched her cramped muscles. Then she pulled her sweater jacket on, zipped up it to her neck, and flipped the hood over her head to shield her from the icy wind.
“Whoa.” She turned and put her right hand up when Nikolai tried to follow her around to the back of the building. “I’ve got this. No help required.”
After pocketing the key to the SUV, Nikolai slipped a similar handgun into the back of his waistband, then jerked his head toward the side of the station. “Your modesty will recover.”
“Nik—”
“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not going back there alone.”
“Fine.” It was unlikely anything would happen, but he was probably right. “Turn around,” she insisted when they reached the back of the building. “Don’t look.”
“Fine,” he echoed, moving to face the blank wall of the corner store. “Hurry up.”
Gun in one hand, it took a little extra maneuvering to slide her jeans down her hips, but she managed without too much difficulty. They were mated now, bonded forever, and he’d traced just about every inch of her with his tongue in the past few days. Still, she was embarrassed for him to know she peed. It was so ridiculous that she had to laugh.
“What is it?” He shuffled his feet, and the muscles in his neck tensed as he started to turn.
“Don’t look!”
“Kamara.”
He didn’t say anything more, but he sounded so exasperated with her, she laughed again. “Just don’t look.”
“I’m not looking.”
“Don’t listen, either. Cover your ears.”
“I’m not going to cover my fucking ears. Just go.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get your dick in a knot.”
Nine seconds later, she’d finished relieving herself over a circular storm drain and put her clothes back to rights.
“Are you finished?”
Once she’d finish buttoning her jeans, she dropped the hem of her jacket so that it fell to the tops of her thighs. “You can look now.”
“Okay.” He sounded distracted, and instead of facing her, he angled left and headed for the back door. “It’s probably been scavenged twice over by now, but we should check it out anyway. There might be something we can use.”
“We have enough supplies to last a week, maybe more, and if we need something, we can buy it when we stop for gas.” They were both vampires and could easily pass for Coalition supporters if they needed. Plus, this far outside of Dallas, she doubted anyone would recognize them.
He shook his head. “We can’t buy weapons and ammunition.”
“Shit, I didn’t think of that.”
They had guns and ten rounds apiece, but if something happened between the border and Blue Hill, if they had to expend their ammunition, they’d be screwed. Other than soldiers and guards, the ownership of firearms had been banned by the Coalition, the law extending to Gemini as well as humans. Even the Revenant had a hard time keeping their armories stocked, so anything they could find would help.
“You’re right,” she conceded. “Let’s go, but make it quick.” Leading the way into the building, she flinched back at the rank odor of decay that assaulted her. “Oh, that’s foul.”
Undeterred, she pressed on, tense and alert as she shuffled deeper into a makeshift dining area with square, Formica-topped tables and overturned, plastic garden chairs. Along the back wall, a row of refrigerator cases stood dark and empty, their doors broken or removed completely. Random, useless items, like fishing lures and ceramic drink coasters had been strewn across the speckled tiles, but nothing remained on the metal shelves.
Fountain drink machines sat dusty and unused in one of the shadowy corners, while a hot dog roller grill with a broken sneeze guard and an open cash register stood sentinel on the front counter. The cigarette rack behind the register had been emptied, except for a handful of those vaporizer things.
Rounding the counter, she checked on the shelf beneath it for a shotgun, handgun, or even a baseball bat, but she wasn’t surprised to find it empty. “There’s nothing here.”
Standing in an open doorway to her right, Nikolai looked over his shoulder. “Looks like an office back here. There’s another door on the back wall. Storage room, maybe?”
“Hmm, maybe.” Pushing him between the shoulder blade, she urged into the office, following close behind. “This is encouraging.” Other than an overturned chair and a few scattered papers, the office appeared to be mostly untouched. “Look in those cabinets over there. I’ll check the desk.”
The stench of rotting flesh permeated the room, much stronger in the office than it had been out in the main part of the store, and it seemed to be coming from beyond the door Nikolai had mentioned. If she could, she’d avoid that green door with its chrome knob, but if they were going to take the time to search the place, they should at least do it properly.
“Nothing.” Kicking the bottom drawer of the desk shut, she growled in frustration. “You?”
Nikolai shook his head. “Mostly office supplies.”
Huffing, Kamara looked at the green door with a mixture of apprehension and resignation. “Shall we?”
Reaching the door first, Nikolai turned the knob and pushed it open without circumstance.
The smell that rushed from the small closet made them both gag, and Kamara clapped a hand over her nose and mouth as she turned away. She’d been around many dead bodies in varying degrees of decomposition both as a detective and after the Purge, but she never could get used to that smell. As a vampire with heightened senses, she had to swallow several times to force the bile back down her esophagus.
“It looks like she crawled in here to hide, but she bled out before she could find help,” Nikola said, his tone subdued. “Claw and bite marks. Werewolves maybe.”
“Ravagers,” Kamara corrected, walking over to join him as a hollow pit formed in her stomach. “It was Ravagers.”
Unaware of her growing trepidation, he shrugged. “It could be. Either way, she’s been here for a while. Three months at least.”
Spotting a ripped canvas backpack with a broken strap in the corner, she held her breath and reached over the dead woman to retrieve it, then carried it to the desk where she dropped it with a muffled thud. Inside, she found clothes, a toothbrush, a half-empty bottle of water, and a Beretta Storm with an extra, full fifteen-round clip.
Releasing the magazine, she frowned, and her confusion deepened when she pulled the slide back and found no bullet in the chamber. “This is full. She didn’t even fire it.”
“Maybe there wasn’t time.”
“Maybe.” She handed the pistol and extra magazine to Nikolai, then upended the remaining contents of the pack onto the desk.
She didn’t find anything else useful—a pack of gum, a crushed granola bar, a handful of loose change, and a small, cardboard photo album with frayed edges. Picking it up, she flipped through the pages, smiling at the pictures of what appeared to be a birthday party. There were a couple of photographs tucked into the back of the book, and Kamara picked one up, studying the young woman with spiky blonde hair.
She wore a hot pink, plastic tiara, and she smiled at the camera. She looked happy, if maybe a little drunk.
Flipping the picture over, Kamara read the inscription on the back. It was dated a year before the Purge, and it had indeed been the woman’s twenty-first birthday.
“Jordan Marie Pearson,” she read aloud.
Kamara’s hand trembled so badly she couldn’t hold onto the photo. It felt from her fingers and floated to the floor, landing face down, the words on the back still visible.
“We have to go.” Jumping over the desk, she shoved Nikolai toward the door as she pulled her gun from her waistband. “Go. Run. We have to get out of here.”
Three feet from the doorway, Nikolai grunted when the butt of shotgun caught him in the chin. His head snapped back, and he stumbled several steps before the disorientation dropped him to one knee.
“Drop your weapon.” A big guy with a bushy beard and beefy arms stepped into the office while another male stood guard just beyond the doorway. “Drop the fucking gun,” he repeated, “or I’ll blow your boyfriend’s goddamn head off, lady.”
These guys thought she and Nikolai were human, which was likely the only reason they were still alive. Pressing her lips together to hide her fangs, Kamara held both hands up and nodded. Maintaining eye contact, she crouched to the dirty floor and set her gun on the tiles.
“Slide it over.”
Upright once again, she used her foot to kick it to the bearded man. She was faster than him, probably stronger. If he stooped to retrieve the handgun, he’d be distracted long enough for her to snap his neck before either he or his watchdog could fire a shot. So, she waited, watching, planning her moves in her head.
He didn’t go for it.
Three more men entered the room, all with rifles and shotguns, rendering her plan completely useless. The guy who appeared to be the leader kept his barrel trained on Kamara, and one of the newcomers turned his gun on Nikolai while the other two searched them.
Nikolai’s upper lip began to curl as he watched the asshole pat her down, but thankfully, his fangs were still too short to be visible. Holding his gaze, Kamara shook her head. They were outnumbered, and the only way they were getting out of this alive was if they kept their cool, and their mouths closed.
“Nothing personal,” the leader told her, and he sounded like he meant it. “We just want your vehicle.
“Found the key,” one of the other guys said, pulling it from Nikolai’s pocket. “Three handguns and an extra clip,” he added. “Let’s go. It fucking stinks in here.”
With the closet door open, the smell overwhelmed the room, which was probably why Kamara hadn’t scented the Raiders in the first place.
“I am sorry about this,” the bearded guy said, backing out of the office after his cronies. “We’re just trying to survive.”
Kamara said nothing.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but if you follow us, I will kill you. Got it?”
Hands fisted at her sides, she nodded.
As soon as the Raiders disappeared into the main part of the store, she hurried to Nikolai’s side and crouched beside him on the floor. “Are you okay?” Grabbing his chin, she turned his head to the side to inspect his jaw. “Let me see.”
Pulling away, he shoved to his feet and growled. “I’m fine.” After a couple of deep breaths, he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Are you okay, cara mia?”
“Fine, just pissed. I’m so fucking stupid.” Of course, her dream hadn’t meant much to her at the time, but now, it all made perfect sense. “Remember when is said I got someone killed in my dream?” She felt his nod. “Her name was Jordan, like the dead woman in the closet who was clearly attacked by Ravagers.”
“There’s no way you could have known what the dream meant.”
“You said she’s been dead for about three months?”
“Give or take.”
Kamara sighed. “In my dream, I was thinking that it had been three months since I’d last seen her. I was walking down a highway, no supplies, all beaten to hell and back because a group of Raiders had jumped me just over the Oklahoma border.”
“Well, at least there aren’t any buzzards.”
Chuckling, she pulled away and rubbed both hands over her face. “What’s the point of being a Seer if I don’t even understand what I’m seeing?”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He tilted her head up and brushed their lips together. “You figured it out in the end.”
“Yeah, right before we almost died.”
“But we didn’t die,” he reminded her. “You only just found out about your abilities. Give it time. I have every faith that you’ll figure out how to use them.”
“I guess I just have to assume that every dream means something, no matter how silly or pointless it seems at the time.” That didn’t make her feel any better about what had just happened, but all she could do was try harder in the future. “What do we do now?”
“They took our car, our supplies, and our weapons, so I think the only thing we can do is start walking.”
“All the way to Blue Hill?”
“Or until we can find another vehicle.”
She wrinkled her nose. It would be night soon, and dangerous things lurked in the night. “I don’t like it.”
“Do you have a better plan?”
She didn’t, and they couldn’t stay where they were. The Raiders hadn’t just taken food and water. They’d also made off with the cooler of blood bags. Once they realized what was in that little box, it was possible their leader would have a change of heart and come back to finish what he’d started.
“Okay, let’s go.”
It wasn’t just the dreams, though. As they exited the gas station and strode toward the forest, she realized the hollow pit in her stomach was still there. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t over, not yet. Something was coming. Something bad.
Something they might not survive.