Jess would laugh if the entire fate of the world didn't hinge on his finding Abigail. Shaking his head, he went to the garage to get his red Hayabusa. It was the fastest thing he owned. Plus, it would synch to the tracker in Andy's phone-had to love the Squires and their toys.
He grabbed a full face helmet off the rack, along with the keys, and was on it in record time. While the garage door opened, he synched the phone. As soon as it was complete, he peeled out, leaving the stench of smoke and rubber behind him. He ducked to miss the door that hadn't gotten out of his way fast enough.
Opening the throttle, he shot through the gates that were also only partially parted and turned on to the street, heading south. The best part about the tracker was that it told him the speed the car was traveling. She didn't appear to be going too fast-she probably thought she was home free and didn't want to attract the attention of any police. Smart on her part.
But it wouldn't be enough to keep him from finding her.
* * *
Abigail regretted her choice of cars as she tried to navigate traffic. She'd thought the Audi, with its V10 engine, would be fast, but she couldn't have been more wrong. People actually cut her off or boxed her in so that they could slow her down to take pictures of the car with their camera phones. Good grief. She'd never seen anything like it.
Really people, it was a car with four tires like any other. She'd never understood how anyone could become so enthralled by a piece of metal transportation.
How did Sundown ever get anywhere with this much attention? It was so frustrating. She'd never been in a car before that affected traffic and drivers like this.
"I should have found something generic." Unfortunately, her choices had been limited to a Ferrari, an old classic Ford pickup from the 1940s, a Gator and this. The Audi was the only one that was street legal and wasn't a stick shift-something she couldn't drive.
The rest had been motorcycles, and since she'd never ridden one before, she didn't think her escape attempt should serve as her first learning experience. With her luck, she'd have wrecked it in the driveway.
Her heart raced as she habitually checked her rearview mirror, expecting to see Sundown catching up to her any second.
Don't discover I'm gone for a while. Please.
At least not until she had a chance to find out some truths. She wasn't running from what she'd done. She just wanted to understand her memories.
Who was lying to her?
She hated to be so confused. All her life, she'd had one clear-cut goal.
Kill Jess Brady.
Now ... her emotions and memories were tangled into a knot she wasn't sure she could ever undo. If that wasn't bad enough, there was a bitter hunger inside her for ...
She didn't know. The demon blood they'd mixed with hers was causing all kinds of problems. At times her senses would sharpen, then fall back to normal.
Beware the pathway that vengeance will take you down. The voice in her head sounded a lot like Sundown's.
His name had no more crossed her mind than something akin to lightning flashed behind her eyes. In that moment, she saw the past so clearly that it stole her breath.
It was Jess.
He kicked open the door to an old-fashioned room. The low, burning fire cast shadows across the cornflower blue scroll wallpaper that covered the walls. A man shot up from the old-fashioned sleigh bed with a gun in his hand. But as soon as he focused on Jess's face, he hesitated.
"I killed you."
Jess wore the mask of stone cold killer. Fierce. Terrifying. Gut-wrenching. "Yeah, you did, Bart. And I told you, you son of a bitch, that I'd be back for you." He spread his arms wide. "Here I am."
Bart came to his senses and unloaded all six of his bullets straight into Jess's body. The rounds left small puffs of smoke as they embedded in his chest without hurting him. He didn't even bleed that much.
Even with the chamber emptied, Bart continued to uselessly pull the trigger.
Jess laughed evilly as he stalked across the room to jerk the gun out of Bart's grasp with one hand. With his other, he grabbed him by the throat and held on so tight that Bart's eyes bulged while he knelt on the bed. Jess pulled him closer so that he could growl into his reddened face. "It was bad enough you killed me. I might have spared you for that. But you had no right to rape Matilda and kill her father in front of her, you worthless bastard. It's what you've done to her that will cost you your life. She was the only decent thing I've ever known. Damn you to hell for hurting her. You had no reason for it."
He waited until Bart was almost dead before he released him and slung him to the ground. Bart lay on the floor, wheezing while Jess went to the wooden washing stand in the corner and pulled the ceramic pitcher up and emptied it over Bart's head.
Now completely drenched, Bart sputtered and coughed.
Jess kicked him onto his back and planted his booted foot on his chest. He slammed the pitcher down on the floor, shattering it near Bart's face. Bart jerked, closing his eyes as shards rained down on him. Some of them even caught in his tousled hair.