hiding. I can’t.” I paused and put a hand on my bag, which held Gran’s book, my knives, and the book of curses.
“We’re going to New Orleans.”
6
My announcement about going to New Orleans instead of some cabin in the woods that belonged to Roderick was met with silence for about 3.2 seconds.
“Are you insane? The council knows that’s where you were headed before you got arrested!” Corb barked the words as if a raised voice would make me back down. The boy had lessons to learn about strong women. The thought caught me off guard, and I smiled to myself.
Other people had told me I was strong, but this was the first time I’d really believed it. Okay, let’s be straight, I believed it in that moment. And then the rest of his words sank in. “Wait, so the council really does want me dead? And how the hell do they know I wanted to go to New Orleans?”
Corb gripped the steering wheel and twisted his hands around it a moment before shifting gears again as he took us onto the highway. Not headed toward Alabama. Damn it, this was going to get rough if he was going to be pig headed.
He stared out the window, checking his rearview mirror more than he really needed to.
“I don’t know for sure, but they have the power and connections to make something like this happen. When Rod brought it to the council’s attention, they denied his request for help. Officially, the numbers were against you, like he said. So if they find out he helped anyway, he’ll be in as much trouble as we are. So I trust him when he says you’ll be safe at that cabin. He wouldn’t risk it otherwise.”
“You didn’t say who told them about New Orleans,” Kinkly said. Feish nodded.
“Yes, who spilled those fish guts to the wrong people?” Feish looked hard at Sarge, who shook his head, ears flapping.
Corb blew out a slow, heavy breath, and I looked at him. He didn’t, did he? “Before I realized they might be behind it . . .I told them we were headed that way. I was trying to convince them to help by pointing out that Celia’s ghost is missing.” Well, shit, he did.
A chorus of groans escaped me, Feish, and Kink. Feish slumped back in her seat, and Alan scrunched up to one side. I was impressed he’d stayed mostly quiet the last few minutes.
Feish on the other hand . . . “You are not going to get her cat after that. Idiot. What a fool!”
She wasn’t wrong on either count. Why in the world would he have offered up that kind of information? Then there was Corb’s belief in Roderick, which wasn’t necessarily misplaced, but if the council found out the Boy Butter spell stuff was connected to Roderick, his cabin was one of the first places they’d look.
“Pull over,” I said.
“No, we’re going to the cabin,” he said, giving me a quick glance. “I can keep you safe. I know what I’m doing, Bree.”
I was no longer sure he did.
So I put a hand on the stick shift, and forcibly geared the car down while Corb yelped and the engine gears ground rather unhappily.
“Goddamn it!” he roared. “You’re going to kill my car!”
I jerked the stick shift hard and he hit the clutch so I wouldn’t do more damage.
He put his hand over mine and pulled over to the side of the road, his whole body shaking.
Once we were stopped, I looked him straight in the eye.
“Since you trust him so much, you can go to the cabin and wait for it to get burned down by a rogue dragon that spits acid, or whatever other weird shit will inevitably happen. Now get out of the car. I’ll drive, because I’m not going that way.” I pointed down the highway in the direction we were facing.
He gave me a hard look as I tapped the stick shift.
“I’m doing this for you, Bree. To keep you safe,” he growled. “Why can you not let others help you?”
I didn’t take my hand off the stick shift. “I didn’t ask you to keep me safe. Did I? And I do let other people help me.”
Alan snickered from the back. “A lover’s spat? Oh, this is too good. She used to fight me on stuff like this too. When she complained about not going out more, I told her I’d take her more places if she spruced herself up