Page 133 of Requiem
Everything…slows.
In the rearview mirror, I watch the vehicles roll together toward the trees before slamming into them hard enough to shake the ground beneath us. Then comes the explosion. The sound tears through the night like the end of the fucking world, and flames roar skyward. Smoke pours into the snow-filled air, and Adriana Britton disappears forever inside the fire.
My chest caves inward. For one impossible second, I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking process what I just watched happen behind me.
She’s dead. Adriana’s dead.
Then Micah suddenly makes a horrible choking sound from the backseat, and reality slams back into me.
“He’s crashing!” Nico shouts.
“Jude!” Rafe snaps sharply.
I blink once. Twice. And then I force my shaking hands tighter around the wheel.
I need to save them.
My jaw locks as I wrench the SUV around the next turn toward the woods where Emma and Heather were left behind, flames still burning in the rearview mirror like a scar carved into the dark.
***
Micah is barely conscious by the time I pull the SUV to where Emma and Heather are waiting. My girl is clutching Heather’s hand as they stumbleout of the darkness between the trees, both of them shaking from cold and shock. Relief crashes through me when I see that she’s okay. I throw the SUV into park and shove the door open before we’ve even fully stopped.
Emma reaches me first, crashing into my chest. “What happened?” she demands breathlessly, snow clinging to her hair and lashes. “What was that explosion?”
I stare at her. My chest still hasn’t recovered from watching the fire swallow Adriana.
Behind me, Micah makes another awful choking sound from the backseat.
Heather tears past us toward him, panic replaced by clinical focus the second she sees the amount of blood soaking through Nico’s hands and Kieran’s jacket. “Oh my god,” she breathes.
Emma’s eyes snap back to me. “Jude.”
I don’t know how to say it. “She drove into them,” I finally manage, my voice rough. “Adriana drove straight into the cars behind us. She’s dead.”
Emma stills completely. Her hand rises over her mouth as the reality settles, disbelief giving way to horror. “Oh, god,” she whispers. But there isn’t time for grief, because she regains composure and rushes past me towards our best friend.
“Get in the car,” I tell her, sliding back behind the wheel. “We have to get back to the mansion.”
Heather is already climbing into the backseat beside Micah, her trembling hands moving fast as she assesses the wound. Blood coats her fingers, soaking through everything she tries to press against his side.
“Micah.” Her voice cracks hard enough to make my stomach twist. “Micah, stay awake for me. I’m here.”
His head lolls weakly toward her, eyes barely open beneath heavy lids. “Tryin’,” he mumbles.
Rafe groans from the passenger seat as Adela keeps pressure against the wound near his neck and shoulder, blood staining the front of her jacket while snow melts across her hair from where she leaned out searching for Emma.
It isn’t long before we pull into the mansion’s driveway, skidding to a halt right in front of the massive front doors.
“We should get him inside,” Kieran says sharply, glancing down the road. “Now.”
Heather shakes her head. “Don’t touch him.”
Nico looks at her. “Heather—”
“I mean it.” Her voice turns frighteningly firm. “If we move him wrong right now, he’ll bleed out before the ambulance gets here.”
The word“ambulance”smacks us all in the face. Reality, consequences, police…everything we’ve been outrunning is finally catching up to us.
