A Nameless Dark

Chapter 9

"There has to be another way." Aaron gripped the car seat in front of him with white knuckles. "Graver is not someone you go looking for."

Our black SUV burned through the late night city streets like a rocket ship, squealing around corners and weaving through traffic without slowing. Thaddeus worked the steering wheel with one hand while the other held some sort of global positioning device, which he used to keep track of enemy movements. He glanced down every few seconds, making sharp turns and accelerating down straightaways, guided by real-time information from his hand-held GPS.

"Graver is the only chance we have of contacting the Families," Thaddeus insisted, cranking the wheel and sending us through another screeching turn.

From my place in the third row of the large vehicle, I was tossed around by the violent motion of our race through town. My seatbelt was all that stopped me from tumbling to the opposite side of the car. Samuel had managed to snag the front passenger seat while Aaron and Laura occupied the middle row.

"He's insane," Aaron growled. "He's just as likely to kill us as he is to help us."

"Well, you're not wrong about that," Thaddeus muttered.

"Who the hell is this Graver guy?" Samuel asked, his arms and feet braced against the dashboard and passenger side door.

Thaddeus glanced at Samuel then down at his GPS, yanking the wheel and sending us into a skidding right turn. I was thrown against the side of the car, the bullet wound in my shoulder flaring to life with angry lashes of searing pain. The vehicle seemed to float on two wheels through the second half of the turn, then righted itself on a new course down a side-street and I lurched back into my seat.

"Graver is a very dangerous man," Thaddeus said.

"The most dangerous man alive," Aaron corrected. "If he's even a man at all. No one's really sure."

Aaron's nervousness sent a creeping chill up my spine. My Uncle was a pretty dangerous man himself, and when Wiley and his coyotes tore into our hotel room like a cartoon cast from hell, be never batted an eye. Even now, as we fled for our lives again, running with our collective tail between our legs from whatever was hunting us this time, Aaron hadn't expressed more than a churlish irritation. To see him display this level of apprehension at the mention of Graver's name was enough to make me wish for a very deep hole to hide in. I did not want to look for Graver, and I definitely didn't want to find him, but it seemed that we didn't have a choice if we wanted to contact the Families of Light and secure their help in surviving this madness. Still, it was difficult for me to feel confident running toward another danger when I knew so little about the original threat. I would need to find a time to confront Aaron and force the issue. We needed to know more about the Morrighan and why she was so desperate to get her hands on Aaron. Of course, that would have to wait until we survived the next half hour.

"We're being boxed in," Lara said. It was the first time she'd spoken since we left the hangar below the Steel Tower.

Thaddeus had led us to a row of identical shiny black SUVs. We'd piled into one, and departed using a vehicle elevator at the far end of the hangar. We had emerged on the lower level of a parking garage several blocks from the Steel Tower, and made our way to the surface. A light rain began to fall as we crept our way through the city streets, blending with the traffic and trying to remain inconspicuous. Our quiet escape was spoiled when Thaddeus's GPS device belted out a high pitched warning. We'd been spotted.

I had yet to see any of our pursuers, but the imminent threat was apparent from the evasive action Thaddeus took, racing through town as if we were running for our lives. Which we probably were.