how you feel.”
Harlow crossed her arms, the click of metal against metal ringing in her ears as Grantham put the cuffs on Augie. The crack in her heart widened seeing him shackled like that. “You just worry about getting him out.” She stared out the library windows into the darkness. “I’ll worry about keeping him free.”
Augustine sat in the back of Grantham’s police-issued sedan, one leg sprawled out on the hard plastic bench seat. The other two officers flanked his vehicle with their patrol cars as they traveled the dark streets of the Garden District. Grantham kept glancing at the closed-circuit screen that showed everything going on in the rear seat. Augustine slouched against the window. “You can stop checking on me. I’m fine.”
Grantham frowned and shook his head, shifting his gaze back to the street. “This is a damn travesty.”
“But one that neither of us has any say about, so stop beating yourself up over it.” They passed into a lower-rent area and the streets got darker. “Besides, I’ll be out as soon as bail is set.”
“Could be two, three million if the senator has a say. Which she will.”
Augustine shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Fae pockets are deep.” He glanced forward. “Fenton will take—hey, what the hell?”
Two black SUVs barreled toward them. The lights on the vehicles switched off.
“No idea.” Grantham straightened, all business.
Sparks erupted as the first SUV rammed the patrol car in front of them, sending it into one of the live oaks lining the street. Grantham swerved around the wreck and sped past. “Hang on.”
“I am.” Augustine put both feet on the floor and braced himself. These had to be Pellimento’s men. No wonder she’d pushed for the arrest so hard. She’d planned it to draw him out.
Behind them, the second SUV sideswiped the rear patrol car, pushing it over the median and rolling it onto its side. Grantham cursed but kept going. “I have no idea what the hell’s going on.”
“I do.” Augustine swiveled to see out the back window. Both SUVs had turned around and were following them. “They want me. That’s why they’re still coming after us.”
“I see them.” Grantham whipped down a side street, fishtailing the car around the turn. The man might have been a boxer, but he drove like he’d retired from Formula One.
The SUVs were on their tail, so close Augustine could see the driver. “Sturka. That’s Sutter and his boys.”
“Damn Pellimento.” Grantham sped up but the SUVs stayed glued to them.
Augustine pulled against the cuffs, snapping the links between them with little effort. He was pretty sure Grantham knew they’d just been for show anyway. He leaned over the seat. “What’s the plan here? Being Sutter’s guest again isn’t high on my list.”
Grantham glanced in the rearview camera. “Mine, either.”
Augustine looked behind them again. “Backup has to be on the way, right?”
“In theory.” Grantham handed him a nightstick. “Maybe you should take this.”
Augustine held his hands up. “I don’t need it.” He’d never used his fae talents to kill a human, but tonight might change that. “If we get out of this car alive, I’m going to disappear. I’ll still be here, just in a form you won’t be able to see. I’ll take out as many as I can.” Which should be most of them.
“Sounds like a plan. Son of a—”
Ahead of them, a third SUV careened out of a side street to cut them off. Grantham jerked the wheel, but it was too late. His sedan plowed into the side of the new SUV, throwing him and Augustine up and forward. The air bags deployed with a loud pop as the sedan flipped onto its side and slid to a stop in the middle of the street.
Grantham shifted, cursing softly. He tapped something and the air bags deflated. “You still alive, Robelais?”
Wheels squealed not far away. Augustine pushed an air bag out of the way to grunt a response. He got his bearings a second later. The SUV they’d hit was parallel to them and dented but otherwise hadn’t moved much. “Three coming out of the SUV on the side.”
“And behind us?”
“Half a dozen more. All heavily armed. And all in night vision goggles.” He had no idea if that would allow them to see him in his half form or not.
Grantham unholstered his gun. He was bleeding from the side of his head and his nose looked broken.
Augustine grabbed his arm. “Listen, all they want is me. You can’t take out nine guys before they can