Shards: Book One of the Anderian Series

Chapter 21: Amaya

 "Where did you find this piece of junk?"

Cian's expression was a study of irritation as he pulled on the lever to move the driver's seat back. Jaw clenched tight, lips flat, and brows scrunched together over his nose. It would be almost comical if not for two things—I was still angry with him (and slightly fearful) after last night, and he was the one who insisted on driving this morning.

I looked around dramatically, then shrugged. "Appears to be a completely standard compact car to me. Late model too. Nothing to complain about."

I'd purchased a new pair of gloves from the gift shop—Cian hadn't stolen the shirt. I also bought knee-high socks, a turtleneck, and a sweatshirt so big it hung to my knees, meaning there was no risk of it riding up and touching a single thread of fabric on the passenger seat. I'd rather strip naked and throw myself into the motel bed before I relived the echo I'd encountered when I touched the handle on the car door yesterday. I hoped that boy had been picked up by a serial killer.

"Bria."

Smoothing back my hair, I tilted my head and glanced at my captor. And promptly burst into laughter. He had pushed the seat back as far as it would go, and he still had to bend his legs. It was like seeing an adult sit in a kindergartner's desk. There was no way he wouldn't cramp up like that.

"Yes?"

"I said your name four times before you answered." The blue of his eyes deepened when his eyes dipped to my neck. His attention remained focused there, like he could see bruises through the turtleneck. "Are you okay?"

I cupped my throat. "You healed me yesterday. Of course, I can't speak for any brain damage caused by lack of oxygen, but..."

It was a low blow, but my sharp tongue was the only weapon he left me with.

"You're a shrew," he grumbled, the flash of hurt not brief enough for me to miss it as he turned the key in the ignition. "I asked you if you knew where we were?"

"Hell if I know. I took so many random turns last night to throw people off our trail."

Cian turned out of the parking lot and resumed the direction I'd been going when I came upon the motel. "We may need to keep that up. I was an idiot for taking the most direct route yesterday."

"You think that's how they found us?"

"That's my best guess. Especially... Do you know any psychic witches?"

Snow dusted pine trees went by in a blur, and I banged my forehead against the cold glass. "There was one back at the safe house. Kay."

"Then it's probably guaranteed. Most psychic witches can track people they've met. They catalog your psychic signature and then search it out."

"Fuck," I hissed. Funny how yesterday I would've been overjoyed to know I could be so easily found, but after Tiffany's little show, I knew the Coalition's intentions were no better than the Andarians. "So, what's the point of this? They're going to find us again."

"No, you would've been hard to pin down last night. It's not like a homing beacon. The witch is basically reading tapping into your signature and they track based on intention and thought. If you didn't know where you were or where you were going, it would be confusing for them to find you. We have a little time—" He leaned forward to read a road sign. "And I think I know someone nearby that can help us out."

"Why don't you fly us there?" It would be faster.

"My body is designed to handle the atmosphere. In these temps, you would freeze to death, and while this might not be my home, I'm not stupid enough to risk outing supernaturals to humans."