Laurence’s grip on the dash was hard enough that he was pretty sure he’d be leaving his fingerprints in the plastic. “Maybe I should drive, man,” he said as Mikey shot between two cars so narrowly that both vehicles gave them the horn.

“Easier for Frederick to steer me,” Mikey said. “We’ve got a rapport.”

Laurence kept his answer to himself and peered out of the windshield.

He had no idea where the hell they were. Mikey had pulled down a ramp onto what looked kinda like an interstate but much narrower, and everything was the wrong way around. Mikey was on the right hand side of the car, everyone drove on the left, and they’d zoomed over so many roundabouts that Laurence had to wonder how they weren’t dead yet.

“Where the hell are we?” He squinted at a huge sign which read London, Warwick, and Stratford, with a turn-off for Henley, but he only recognized the first of those places and the sign didn’t indicate how far away any of them were.

“Just south of Birmingham,” Mikey said.

Laurence nodded like he had any idea where Birmingham was. “How long to Peterborough?”

“Maybe two hours?”

He grit his teeth and hissed softly. “Fuck, Mikey, Quentin will have taken the place apart by the time we get there!”

“Nothing I can do about that!” Mikey swerved to overtake a truck. “Going as fast as we can.”

“We?” Laurence turned to look at him. “Is Freddy your co-pilot or something?”

Mikey shrugged. “Directions, moving traffic out of our way, keeping the cops looking elsewhere, you name it. This is gonna wear him out, especially doing this and trying to keep a lid on Quentin’s meltdown.”

Laurence inhaled sharply. “He can do all that at once?”

“Barely.” Mikey didn’t take his eyes off the road. “The longer the distance or the more strangers he has to reach the harder it gets. He needs a bridge to cross if he’s gonna influence over a distance, ‘cause he can’t just reach out to someone five thousand miles away without some kind of direction.”

Laurence clamped his lips together while he tried to grasp what Mikey was telling him. “He’s using you to see the people around you to then reach them and get them to move outta your way?”

“Probably you, too,” Mikey answered. “He’s been in your head a lot, he can find you more easily now.”

He scowled at that. “Then how’s he gonna reach people in Peterborough?”

“Not my problem,” Mikey snapped. “Usually he uses a phone call, but he might just use your thing with your bird as a stepping stone. Who cares? However he does it, I think we’re pretty much on our own from here on out. The longer Quentin goes on a rampage, the more Freddy’s gotta cover up, and the harder it’ll hit him.”

His world jolted, and Laurence screwed his eyes shut. It disoriented him, and for a second he thought he was in flight.

Moving, Windsor all but yelled.

“Shit,” Mikey swore at the same time.

Laurence ignored Mikey and reached for Windsor until he could see through the bird’s eyes.

Windsor was in flight, coasting high on a wake being laid by a tornado. He’d found a sweet spot, kind of like an updraft, which helped him stay airborne without too much effort.

Quentin? Laurence asked.

Yes.

Laurence glanced down and almost yelped. He - they - were so high in the sky that wisps of cloud passed beneath them. Houses were toys, and people were dots.

Quentin was flying.

“Quentin’s on the move,” Mikey said.

Laurence swallowed tightly. He’d known this was possible. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest it to Quentin. But Quentin had always refused to do it. He’d said it was silly.

It sure didn’t look silly.

Laurence couldn’t see Quentin himself. The vortex which surrounded him sucked in cloud vapor and obscured him from view. Now and then Windsor’s sharp eyes could make out a dark center to it all, but nothing more.

“Where’s he going?” Laurence breathed.

“Too soon for Frederick to figure out a trajectory,” Mikey answered after a pause. “Assuming Quentin even knows which way he wants to go.”

Laurence nodded briefly, eyes still on the storm which cut a line across the darkening sky. “He seems to know exactly where he wants to get to,” he mused. “There’s no circling around here. He’s going…” He paused to figure out where the sunset was. “South west.”

“Frederick’s lost track of him on the ground,” Mikey said.

“Yeah. I’m not surprised. I doubt anyone can see him from down there any more.” Laurence thanked Windsor and withdrew to his own senses, then opened his eyes. “What’s south west of Peterborough?”

Mikey didn’t answer for a few seconds, and Laurence figured that he was waiting on data.

Then Mikey glanced over at him, green eyes dark. “Castle Cavendish.”

Laurence looked around to locate the sunset, but it was behind them.

“I know,” Mikey said. “We’re going totally the wrong way for Princes Risborough. Right way for Peterborough. Frederick’s just figuring out what turn I need to take.”

“Shit.” Laurence patted down his own pockets, but he already knew it was useless. “Give me your cellphone, dude. I can at least do the navigation so Freddy doesn’t have to push himself so hard.”

Mikey glanced to him again, then pulled out his phone and tossed it into Laurence’s lap. “One one seven three,” he muttered.

Laurence tapped in the PIN to unlock it and fiddled with the unfamiliar device until he found the maps app, then tried to type as Mikey swerved toward the next off-ramp.

“So, uh.” Mikey clicked his tongue briefly. “You know I don’t have any crazy super powers, yeah?”

Laurence snorted while the phone worked out a route. “So?”

“What I’m saying is I can drive you to wherever your crazy boyfriend is heading, but then you’re on your own. I can’t go in there. I don’t have this maxed-out metabolism you guys seem to have. I can’t heal up fast if Banbury decides to skewer me with a tree. I’m just a guy, Laurence. I’m not even a good person, and I’m sure as hell not a hero or whatever.” He pulled off onto the ramp and veered around other cars, shooting out onto another roundabout.

Laurence jabbed his foot forward for the brake, but it wasn’t there. He felt like he was on the right side of the car to be driving, but had absolutely no damn control over this vehicle whatsoever, so he used his outstretched legs to brace against the car seat and keep from sliding around. “I wouldn’t expect you to,” he gasped. “But if you could get us there alive it’d be a start!”

“We’re fine.”

He shook his head. “How’d you even get with Freddy anyway?”

Mikey snorted as he pulled onto another ramp. “Oh you know how it goes. Telepath gets into your head, turns your world upside-down, forces you to choose between staying in your shitty life or moving halfway around the world to be his latest plaything.”

“That… doesn’t sound healthy.” Laurence relaxed slowly once they were back on a straight road.

“Yeah, and you and Banbury are totally sane.” Mikey laughed briefly. “At least Frederick’s honest with me.”

“Quentin’s honest!” He looked down to the phone to make sure it agreed with Mikey’s new direction. “He can’t lie to save his life.”

“And you? Are you honest with him? Or do you still lie like you always have?”

“Fuck you.” Laurence scowled. “You’ve got no fucking right to judge me. You ruined my fucking life, Mikey! You got me hooked, you left me to fucking die, you-” He sucked down a breath and swallowed it as tears sprang to his eyes. “You fucking raped me, man.”

Mikey’s knuckles paled as he gripped the wheel harder. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and leaned against the window, pulling his elbow up to prop on the sill. “I fucking hated you,” he breathed. “I hated you almost as much as I hated me. Sometimes I thought if I’d never met you I’d never have got addicted. But I don’t think that’s true. I think I was always gonna find something. There’s been this hole in me forever, and I didn’t know how to fill it.”

Mikey laughed weakly. “Yeah. And I always thought you had this, like, perfect life, you know?”

Laurence glanced across at him, bemused. “What?”

“You had your mom and dad.”

Laurence rubbed his beard slowly. Mikey never knew who his dad was, and his mom died when they were teenagers, hit by a trolley. Laurence kinda thought it was cool that Mikey lived in a house all by himself, like he was an adult.

He snorted.

“We thought stupid shit when we were kids,” he muttered.

“Yeah.”

“Still thought stupid shit once we were adults, too.” Laurence rested his chin in his hand. “Does Freddy make you happy? I don’t mean, like, telepathically. I mean… does being with him… I dunno.”

“He’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” Mikey said without any trace of a lie. “I love him. And he loves me, in that kinda Frederick way he has. I dunno if he loves the same way other people do, but it’s enough for me. More than enough. More than I deserve.” He spared Laurence a glance. “Does Quentin make you happy?”

“You have no idea.” Laurence sighed. “He fills that void, man. Completely. I was clean for months before you guys kidnapped me. Not even weed. I’m not saying I’m cured, but he makes it so I can cope. He makes me want to be a better man. I need to be good enough for him.” He smiled without any humor. “I need him.”

Mikey nodded. “Let’s go save his ass, then.”

“Yeah.”

Goddess, he hoped that’s what they were going to do. But Windsor was flying so fast, and he didn’t know if Mikey could match that.