He looked over at me. “This car is very light and we’re going to drive very fast.”
Striped white and orange barriers blocked the way. The small sports car smashed through them. Chunks of wood flew. Behind us the Guardian lumbered onto the exit, speeding up.
“No!” Bug screamed.
Construction vehicles flashed by on our sides. In the sideview mirror the Guardian tore up the slope, squeezing everything it could out of its engine to catch us.
“Please don’t do it,” I said.
Alessandro glanced at me for half a second and hit me with a dazzling smile. “Trust me.”
Black scorch marks stained the pavement ahead. Alessandro stood on the gas. The digital speedometer flashed 145. We were almost to the top of the slope.
I hugged the little dog to me.
The Guardian skidded to a stop. Celia leaped from the top of it, flying through the air like she had wings.
The Alfa went airborne.
I expected my life to flash before my eyes. Instead I went weightless, floating . . .
The Alfa crashed to the pavement and bounced hard. I pitched forward. My seat belt yanked me back. The Alfa skidded to a stop.
We made it. Oh my God.
“For fuck’s sake!” Bug cried out.
“See?” Alessandro grinned.
A heavy thud rocked the car. Celia landed on the roof. Two huge clawed fists smashed into the windshield like sledgehammers. The laminated glass cracked in a spiderweb pattern but didn’t shatter. Celia’s hand-paw broke through the glass and plastic. She clutched the edge of the hole and ripped the windshield out.
The little dog erupted into barks.
I pulled my Beretta out, pinned the dog with my left hand to keep it out of the way, and fired four shots through the roof. An angry shriek answered.
Eleven bullets left.
Alessandro stepped on the gas. The Alfa screeched in protest but rolled forward, weaving between the heavy construction equipment. Something must have broken on landing. We picked up speed . . .
Alessandro threw his arm in front of me and slammed on the brakes, spinning the car to the left. Celia slid off the roof, landed on the pavement on all fours, and rolled to her feet. Her maw gaped and she roared.
We had to get past Celia before the Guardian decided to start blasting the cement mixers and dump trucks blocking its view of us on the off chance the shrapnel and debris would hit the Alfa. Ramming her wouldn’t work. We didn’t have the mass and if she destroyed the car, we would be stranded on this exit.
Alessandro jumped out. Two guns appeared in his hands out of thin air. He fired at Celia.
I unbuckled my seat belt and scrambled out of the vehicle. The little dog tried to follow, but I slammed the door in its face.
The stream of bullets from Alessandro’s firearms pounded Celia. She jerked, snarled, and charged, loping forward in great leaps. I sighted her and fired. The Beretta pumped out bullets.
Eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven.
The shots tore into Celia without any visible damage. No blood.
Alessandro darted out of the way. A shotgun materialized in his hands. He pumped it and sank a burst into Celia’s stomach. She recoiled.
Six, five, four.
He pumped it again and fired at her face. She leaped aside, nimble like a cat, and flexed her tail. It whipped Alessandro, nearly taking him off his feet. He grunted and shot her again.
Three, two, one. Out.
Celia reared, swinging her arms in a frenzy. Her clawed hand closed on Alessandro’s shotgun and she tore it from his grasp, knocking him back. He stumbled and she chased him, claws rending the air.
“Celia!” I snapped. “Look at me!”
She spun toward me. I opened my wings and let my magic rip. The focused torrent of power drowned her.
“Come here,” I called, sinking enough magic to seduce a room full of people into it.
Celia rushed me. Her huge arm swung, and she backhanded me. I flew and hit a hard surface with my right side. Pain tore through my hip. Something crunched. Ow. A dump truck had thoughtfully broken my fall.
I looked up and saw Celia leaping toward me, claws ready to rend, mouth gaping. I dropped to my knees and scrambled under the truck.
Celia slammed into the vehicle with a thud and hugged the ground. Her terrible face thrust into the gap between the wheels. Tiny hate-filled eyes bore into me. She tried to squeeze in after me. I held my breath. She wiggled, pushing in another inch, and stopped. The truck sat too low.