side door and front quarter panel, the steam rising from the undercarriage, as they rolled by.
“Oh my god.”
“Is that—?” Nick started.
“Yes.” Quinn’s body had turned to ice, and she became intensely aware of the silent phone at her feet. “Pull over.”
It was Sam’s car.
Chapter Five
The true origin of our ancestry has been lost to time and secrecy. Very little is known about our beginnings, but it is believed we are descended from the lines of powerful humans who spawned the tales of the Greek, Roman, and Norse goddesses. Because our heritage is stuff of legend rather than true history, how we use our abilities is of utmost importance.
—The Society for Goddess Education and Defense booklet, “From Isis to Freya”
…
Quinn shoved her door open before Nick finished swinging the car to the shoulder in front of the overturned vehicle. Nonononono. Not Sam not Sam not Sam. She leapt out, skidding on the loose gravel, shouting his name as she ran in slow motion. Nothing moved except a slowly spinning front wheel. The rear tire on the passenger side was gone. The smell of burned rubber stung her nostrils, hot despite the cold rain. The car listed toward the road, the roof over the driver’s side mostly intact. He always wears his seat belt. He’s okay. He’s got to be okay. But raindrops splashed into her eyes and shadows blocked her view through the windshield. She couldn’t convince herself.
Nick sped past her. “Sam!” He slid onto the ground like a batter to second base, looking into the car. “Sam! Sam, buddy, can you hear me?”
Quinn landed on her knees in the sharp gravel next to him, desperate to hear Sam’s voice. But it didn’t come. He hung upside down in the car, his seat belt locking him in place. His hands lay limp on the ceiling and his forehead bled. “Sam!” She reached in through the smashed side window to touch his face. He didn’t respond. “God, Sammy. Please.”
“Let me brace him.” Nick grabbed Sam’s shoulders. “See if you can undo his seat belt.”
Panic fading, doused by action, Quinn flipped onto her back, squinting against the droplets splattering her face. Glass bit into her back as she dragged herself into the vehicle, trying not to brush against Sam in case he had a neck injury. They shouldn’t move him out of there until they knew what kind of damage had been done.
“Sam.” She touched his face again. His skin was reassuringly warm, his breath even against her hand. The flashes of panic stilled. “Sam. Can you hear me? Come on, sweetie.” She fought not to tap him harder or shake him to try to wake him up. The cut on his head wasn’t deep, but it had already purpled, and head injuries were so dangerous. She tried not to think about that, to focus instead on what to do. Sam moaned and moved his arms but didn’t open his eyes.
“Quinn, we’ve got to get him out.” There were sirens in the distance, but they didn’t sound like they were getting closer. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”
Which meant Nick thought someone had deliberately caused this accident. Maybe he was only being the protector again, but she trusted his judgment. With gentle hands, she palpated Sam’s neck a little. It felt normal, but she was no medical professional. If she had power, she could identify an injury—but she didn’t. Helpless, and aware that the longer she waited, the more at risk they were, she pulled herself deeper into the car and reached for the seat belt.
“Brace him good, Nick.” She swallowed against queasiness. If they hurt him worse…she felt Nick shift, and his arms moved past her legs to wrap around Sam’s shoulders.
“When you release the latch,” Nick said, “we’ll maneuver him in your way. You can support his head and shoulders while I get his legs out.”
Quinn looked up at where Sam’s long legs were wedged under the dash. It bowed inward in the center, away from the partially crushed passenger side.
“It looks like they might be trapped,” she warned.
“I know. I don’t think they’re busted, though, just maybe wedged.”
“Should you get them out first? I don’t want to break his leg when he falls off the seat.”
“We’ve got to reverse his circulation. If he has a head injury…”
Pooling blood in his brain could cause further damage.
“Okay, here goes.” She reached up, held her breath, and pressed hard on the seat belt latch.
She’d expected it to be jammed from Sam’s weight on it,