plop myself onto the other side with a grunt.
I grabbed the handle and pulled.
That door wouldn’t budge either.
I pressed unlock and heard the locks disengage.
It still refused to open.
I jabbed the button again and again as I yanked at the handle. It didn’t matter. I was trapped inside the car.
A blink of light had me glancing through the window, and time slowed again as the hooded axe wielder appeared at the edge of the woods, a flaming torch in his hand. I could only gape as he pulled his arm back and launched it, the ball of fire arcing through the air and landing in a puddle of gasoline.
This time Jace wasn’t here to save me. The fuel ignited in a sheet of fire and engulfed the car.
With me inside it!
“No. No!” I pounded on the window, screaming as the person neared, hands lifting to peel back the hood and reveal their face.
Who is it? Who?
The heat blistered my skin, sucked the moisture from me and—
I screamed as I sat bolt upright in bed, the morning sunlight hitting my skin like a burning brand. Unable to stem my panic, I palpated myself, fingers running over my skin, my limbs. Everything appeared intact.
“Meow?” Grisou sat on my nightstand and queried as my breathing calmed.
“I had a bad dream.” Just one in a string of many, although this one did stand out with its particularly gruesome outcome.
A lukewarm shower helped revive me, but I skipped a hot coffee for a cold bottle of water with some flavored electrolytes added to it. As I spotted my spare set of car keys on the rack, it occurred to me how screwed I was.
I had no car. With no wheels to get around, how would I ever manage to go buy one? The buses didn’t run outside the city. A taxi would cost me a fortune.
Perhaps I could borrow Winnie’s wheels. If she were home. Winnie’s bedroom door remained open, with the bed empty. A glimpse outside showed no car by the garage.
I blinked.
Since when did I have a garage?
Slipping on some shoes and a sweater, I went outside and stared from my porch at the detached garage that had appeared overnight. Having taken the spot of my small shed, it appeared weathered compared to the house, and rather than sporting a rollup door, it had two huge barn-like ones that I had to swing open.
A glance inside showed all the tools that used to be inside the shed, including the lawnmower. What was new—or old, depending on how you looked at it—was the car. A Hyundai Pony that I was pretty sure used to belong to my grandma. She’d named it Betsy. Grandma claimed it was a fine name for a sweet and gentle car.
How had Betsy gotten here? Heck, how did I suddenly gone from a shed to full-sized garage?
I couldn’t help but remember Trish spouting some nonsense that the house would give me what I needed. As if the house had magical powers and could grant wishes. I’d scoffed at the time, and yet it was hard to not believe with the car right in front of me.
Had the house given me a car?
What if it had? It seemed rude to not say something. “Thank you, er, house.” Awkwardly spoken, kind of cheek heating because I felt stupid. However, I couldn’t ignore the fact I’d just had my butt saved.
I had wheels, and I wouldn’t complain about how I got them. Nor would I moan about the fact I got a vintage vehicle that I remember Grandma sometimes having to start by pouring gas into the carburetor. Or the cardboard she put behind the front grill so we wouldn’t freeze in the winter.
Its cream-colored body didn’t show any signs of rust, a miracle at its age, just like the navy blue vinyl seats appeared in mint condition. I remembered those all too well, either hard and cold or hot and sweat inducing.
But where were its keys? The door was unlocked, and I sat in the driver seat, having to adjust because of my grandma’s short legs. It caused a bit of a pang. She’d always joked about how tall I was. A trait I got from my father.
The keys were in the ignition.
It probably wouldn’t start. It had been sitting here for over twenty years. The motor could have seized. The battery would have died. The gas would have gone bad.
I turned the key.
Choke. Choke. Sputter. Gasp. Cough.
Vroom.
A smile tugged at my