out of a parking spot and follow my route. It turned to the left when I turned right, but I kept an eye out for it.
Five minutes later, I spotted it again one block over. I was being tailed.
It could be the church, but it wasn’t likely. The truck was an older Chevy, but it was tricked out, to use Occam’s term for a vehicle that had been restored with lots of aftermarket parts. It could be related to the case. Someone wanting to share information off the record? Or a drive-by. I wasn’t taking chances.
FIFTEEN
I pressed my cell to autocall HQ.
JoJo answered with my last name, telling me that FireWind was close by. “Ingram.”
“Yeah. I’m possibly being tailed. A blue short-bed Chevy pickup, older model, the kind with the wheel wells outside the bed. It’s been restored or well cared for. High shine, new paint. Fancy chrome wheels. Nothing too splashy, and in this town, not particularly noticeable.” I gave her the street names of the crossroads I was approaching.
FireWind said, “Keep your pace slow. Save energy for a sprint.”
“Right.” I slowed, not letting panic push me, realizing only then that I was breathing too fast. I slowed my breathing, deeper, the cadence steady. “The truck’s been traveling to my left. Aaaaaand yep, there it is, crossing one street over and just behind me.”
A wry note in his voice, FireWind asked, “Jones. Can you follow her real-time?”
He was asking Jo if she could hack into security and traffic cams. She hesitated only a moment before she said, “I have programs for some camera systems. Others not so much. Are you authorizing their use?”
“Yes.”
“Accessing traffic cameras,” JoJo said, her voice toneless.
“I’m on my way, Ingram,” he said. “Are you armed?”
“Yes. Affirmative,” I corrected. “But there’re civilians everywhere.”
I heard doors opening and closing way faster than humans could do it. Over the earbuds, I heard nothing after that, no feet running, but FireWind moved silent as the wind, so I didn’t really expect to. “Ingram, can you see the driver?” he asked.
“Negative. Haven’t been able to see the license plate either.”
“Jones?”
“Negative. Not yet.” The sound of tapping was rapid-fire over the comms.
At the next crossing I said, “The Chevy isn’t there. Oh. Wait. I think it’s in front of me, stopped at the light.” The light changed green. “I think—” I remembered my earlier thought. Drive-by . . .
I was in danger. Not passive hazard like on the case, but being chased. As I had been all my life. I was under attack. Instinctively, I knew there was no greenery anywhere, no bare earth for me to stand my ground. My heart sped. Something stirred deep inside me. Soulwood . . .
My magic was rising. My leaves sprouted. Rustled.
“I have you on camera,” JoJo said.
“I see you ahead,” FireWind said, his words without strain, his breathing even.
“There’s a coffee shop half a block to your right, Ingram. It has a back door,” Jo said. “See it?”
“Yes.”
Ahead of me, the blue truck revved its engine. Sped forward.
There were people on the streets. I had a weapon, but if the driver shot at me, there could be collateral damage. A mother and child there. An old lady there.
No ground. No earth.
“Run!” FireWind commanded. “Get into the building.”
I dashed into a sprint and threw open the door of the coffee shop. Glanced back.
The truck turned sharply across traffic. Accelerating.
Heading directly at me. Fast.
It wasn’t trailing me for a drive-by. It was trying to ram me. I had nowhere else to go.
I screamed, “Car! Get back!”
Grabbed people at the table nearest the door. Shoved hard.
“Get back get back get back!” Racing. Jumping over the bar, sliding across it.
I dropped behind the bar, slamming into three baristas ahead of me. “Go!”
The truck crashed through the glass front. Engine roaring.
Glass panes shattered, shooting inward like rounded pellets and small slivered knives. Skimming across my arm, back, neck.
My blood splattered on the wall, a thin trace. Everything slowed. In an instant, my bloodlust rose. Soulwood reached out to me. Need flooded through my body as if a dam had broken, jagged want tearing through me like a flood. Hunger . . . Soulwood knew my blood had been spilled. It wanted to be fed with the blood of my enemies.
The truck hit the bar. Shattering wood, plastic, glass. Coffee exploded from bags everywhere. I shoved off the bar top. Dived along the narrow bar alley. The bar and the truck hit the back wall. Missed me by inches.