Wayward Son - Rainbow Rowell Page 0,38

grinning.

“What’d you do?”

“Slashed their tyres.”

“You didn’t!”

“I did. They were totally focused on you guys. I don’t smell like anything interesting.”

“That’s … a bit good,” I concede.

“I mean, they could catch up,” he says. “They’ve still got magic. But the treaties work both ways. They can’t touch you when you’re back in Speaker territory. And most of the country belongs to the magicians, not the creatures.”

“When will we get our magic back?”

“The far side of Nebraska. An hour or so.”

Baz is tapping on the back window. I make eye contact with him. His eyebrow is raised. I nod to tell him I’m okay.

The Normal unlatches the window and slides it open.

I reach through. “Simon?”

Baz takes my hand. “Keeping up.”

“Hang on back there,” the Normal says.

Baz looks at the Normal. And then at me. And I think Baz is asking me if we can trust him. I don’t have an answer. But we need the Normal now. He’s getting us out of this mess—even if he’s getting us into another one.

BAZ

I lean back against the cab of the truck, looking up.

Simon is flying just above the clouds. I want him to land, I don’t want to lose track of him.

I hope he isn’t hurt.

I am, I think.… Hurt.

I don’t want to look away from Simon, so I rub my fingers along the pockmarks in my chest. They sting, but they seem to have already stopped bleeding. I still don’t know what kills vampires—but I suppose I can rule out a chestful of buckshot.

There are still no headlights behind us. Maybe the dark creatures don’t need headlights. Maybe they don’t need cars.

Bunce’s face is in the window again. “We’re trying to put some distance between us!” she shouts. “He slashed their tyres!”

Who did, the Normal? That was clever. Still doesn’t mean we can trust him. Did he purposely herd us off the motorway? Right into their paws? What’s his angle now?

There’s a heavy thud.

Snow has landed in the truck bed, crouching, his fingertips down, his wings half folded behind his neck. He looks up at me. “Baz.”

Simon. I reach out and pull him up to me, next to me, onto me. I’m checking him for holes and wet spots. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “Penny—”

“She’s fine.”

“And you—” His hands are on my shoulders. His mouth is over mine.

“I’m fine,” I say, while he kisses me.

Crowley, if this is what it takes to keep Simon in my arms—gunshots and Quiet Zones and high-speed chases—I’m here for it. I’ll swear to it. I’ve found my vocation.

He pulls away, petting my hair down. “Baz…”

“Simon?”

“You smell like a dead merwolf.”

SIMON

Worse than that.

“Like goblin intestines,” I say.

“How do you even know what a goblin’s—”

“Lower intestines.” I cover my nose with my hand. “Eight snakes, Baz!”

“I know, all right?” Baz shoves at my shoulder. “I have enhanced senses.”

“It’s making me cry,” I say. “I can taste it.”

“You can get off me, Snow. Nothing’s stopping you.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m good.”

Wild horses couldn’t drag me.

30

PENELOPE

My magic comes back in an hour. I’ve been murmuring spells to myself since we got back on the road—tapping my ring on my leg. Suddenly a “Clean as a whistle!” takes hold and scrapes along my skin and scalp, scrubbing me clean. I’ve got my hand at the Normal’s throat before the spell’s done.

He flinches, but that’s it. I think he was expecting this. “I guess we’re out of the Quiet Zone,” he says.

I push my thumb into his throat. “Is this a dagger which I see before me!”

A pocketknife falls out of his jacket, but the Normal doesn’t twitch or glow.

I try another spell to reveal his intentions—“True colours!”

The Normal glows a little purple, and I’m almost disappointed. Blue is safe, red is danger, but purple is the most common outcome—almost everyone wants something from you.

I hear Baz casting spells in the back of the truck. Making us hard to see, making us hard to follow. Deep magic. He’s probably already exhausted.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the Normal says. “Or expose you.”

“You expose us by looking at us and knowing what we are!”

“I could help you.” He’s remarkably calm. “I could show you—”

“You pushed us away from our magic and straight into a trap!”

“That was an accident!”

“Was it?” My teeth are bared. “You knew we’d run out of magic.”

The Normal looks guilty. I still have my hand at his throat. His skin is a few shades darker than mine, and he’s wearing a thin gold chain around his neck. “I was just following