Page 40 of A Moth to the Flame (Utopia #1)

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

DUKE

I haven’t been this pissed off since Cordie egged my truck.

At least, that’s how my face looks. My face seethes with Cordie’s rage as she pushes the same truck to its limits like a woman who’s gunning to catch her cheating man in the act.

The peeling paint on the hood flutters in the wind as she accelerates too fast around the first bend into town.

My tires screech in protest from the fishtail that she barely recovers from.

“He’s not following us,” I say through gritted teeth as I clutch onto the oh-shit bar until her knuckles turn white. “Slow down before you kill us.”

It’d be a real tragedy if we died in a fiery accident after escaping Mothman mostly unharmed.

She takes the next turn in the opposite direction so hard that her body hits the center console with a dull thud. Definitely going to be feeling that tomorrow.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt, hoping it’ll appease the witch enough to spare her own body any more damage. “I forgot I was in your body! I wasn’t trying to get you maimed or killed, I swear! ”

She hits the brakes so hard that it throws her body forward. Only the seatbelt keeps her pretty face from making out with the dashboard. That’s gonna leave a mark.

“I know,” she says, my jaw clenched so hard that the muscle jumps beneath my skin. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re fit to be tied about something,” I mutter.

“I’m mad at myself, okay?” she shouts at the windshield before she hits the gas again.

At the risk of her driving us straight into the nearest tree, I reach across the console to touch her. Just her hand on my arm, nothing that will spook her or anger her more.

“You can talk to me too, you know,” I whisper, gentle. “What was it you told me? We don’t have to suffer alone anymore.”

Something that sounds like a sob caught in a laugh rumbles out of my chest. She rasps, “The fortune teller was right.”

“Awesome. Do I get an army of my own now?” I joke.

I don’t know how else to calm her down. I don’t have any practice at this.

She barks out another sound that I can’t name. “Better yet, how’d you like not to spend ten grand on a spell that we probably don’t need?”

I nod. “Sounds good. Keep talking. What do you think we need?”

Whatever it is, she’s not happy about it. That’s obvious from the way she takes the third turn like we’re on a racetrack.

She shakes my head. “I got us into this mess. I’m the one who has to get us out.”

I open her mouth, but she keeps going, “I’m sorry, Duke. I swear, I’ll give it my best effort, but this?” She shakes my head. “This might take me a little time to figure out.”

I don’t follow. I’m also gonna hazard to guess that she’s not ready to talk about whatever she isn’t really saying yet.

“Gingersnap,” I say then stop.

I don’t fully know how I’m going to cough up all the things Cornelius said I wasn’t supposed to tell her, but it doesn’t matter.

I don’t get the chance .

A giant glob of white goo hits the windshield, and she swerves the truck dangerously.

“What in the actual fuck now?” she mutters.

I crane her neck to get a look up at the sky, hoping to see what shit all over my poor truck.

I can’t see the sky. It’s gone, blotted out by more wings of every shape, size, and color than I’ve ever seen. The birds are all headed in the same direction.

Toward Utopia.

With barely a glance exchanged between us, she floors the accelerator. Her back meets the seat with a thud. We barrel into the outskirts of town, only for more mayhem to greet us.

It’s not just birds. All sorts of woodland creatures are absolutely losing their shit.

On one side of the street, I watch as a buck headbutts a front door. It’s bleeding by the time it breaks through. The poor, dumb thing broke its antlers to get in.

Seconds later, Mary Sue Bennett comes running from around the back of the house, cradling her baby to her chest. She looks around in a panic, but there’s nowhere to shelter from the chaos.

Birds dive bomb, then swoop back into the mega flock in the sky.

A river of chipmunks and squirrels and rabbits floods the road, heading deeper into town.

Foxes dart out of the woods, snatch up a quick snack, then join the race.

Opossums blink in the sunshine and hiss at their furry comrades that get too close to the babies on their backs.

Raccoons line the edges of the road, acting less like masked bandits and more like cops directing traffic to the main event.

Lucky for Mary Sue and the little animals, Cordie slams on the brakes.

I hop out of the passenger side of the truck and pull open the back door. “Quick! In here!”

The baby wails as I help Mary Sue climb into the back of the truck cab, then hop in beside her.

“Duke! Oh, God! Thank you for stopping!”

Even though Cordie’s body is the one who helped Mary Sue in, she talks to my body behind the steering wheel. She probably can’t even see Cordie’s body sitting next to her.

Cordie stares out the windshield, my jaw ticking faster than a few minutes ago. “When did the animals start going nuts?”

“About a half hour ago,” Mary Sue pants, fear in her eyes as she rocks her screaming bundle of joy.

Cordie and I exchange another weighted glance as I pull the door shut.

“You think this is a coincidence?” she mutters, staring at me in the rearview mirror.

“I think Mothman is pissed that you got the better of him, and this is his revenge,” I answer.

I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth, but I believe them anyway.

She noses the truck forward at a snail’s pace.

A snail might be the only critter I don’t see in this Noah’s Ark.

“Just run ‘em over,” I snap. “We gotta get to town.”

God only knows what destruction they’re causing there. People are going to get hurt.

“It’s not their fault that Mothman’s controlling their little minds!” Cordie shrieks.

Mary Sue mumbles prayers for protection under her breath.

“Life is so unfair,” Cordie whispers, before saying louder, “This is exactly why you might have to grit your teeth and bear with me a little longer, mate of mine.” To herself, she mumbles, “Gotta get over yourself a tad faster, Delia. You’ve done hard things before. You can do this, too.”

I would laugh at the cute way she’s talking to herself, but I spy larger shadows moving through the tree line.

“We really need to get into town,” I choke out. “Vacation Bible School ends today. Every kid and parent in the area is there for the picnic.”

My nephews are there.

Cordie swallows so thickly that my throat bobs. She stares out the windshield, blows out a long, slow breath, then scrunches my face the way I do whenever I’m trying to read something .

I don’t know what she’s doing or how, but the animals in the middle of the throng wobble, then slowly peel toward the edges of the road.

“You’re doing it,” I whisper as I stare at the scene with awe, and more than a little pride for this little witch who has more power than her damn cat gives her credit for. “Keep going.”

“Can it,” she hisses.

The animals collapse back to the center.

“Try again,” I encourage her. “You can do this, Gingersnap.”

“I don’t know how,” she whimpers.

No shit. Because her whole life has been stolen from her.

If I’m going to be worth anything to my mate, then now is the time.

I scramble over the console into the front, and I wrap her arms around my neck, holding onto her like I didn’t know I was supposed to. “Try again.”

I can feel her concentration, even though my body doesn’t show any movement. A sizzle of power skitters along her skin where we’re touching.

The animals scurry toward the edges of the road again.

Cordie gapes at the sight. “Holy crap,” she whispers. “I—I did that.”

At least she’s not denying the power she has. Baby steps. If Cornelius won’t help her, then I will, however I can.

“It’s the link between us,” I guess.

“But, but, but—” she sputters. “Magic isn’t supposed to be real! Those were just books! Granny wasn’t really a witch!”

The animals close ranks again. A fresh wave of them streams from the woods.

Mary Sue shushes her baby in the backseat.

Shit. I forgot she was even here.

No time to worry about that now.

“You don’t have to prove shit to me, Cordelia Diane,” I swear. “It’s high time you proved something to yourself, though. Now, try again. Focus.”

“You think this is easy?” she screeches.

I press her forehead to my cheek, breathing in a scent that isn’t quite her, isn’t quite me. It’s something new, something I’ve never noticed before. “No, Gingersnap. I think it’s so hard because it’s long overdue.”

She takes a deep breath, then focuses on the road again.

The animals part, just for a few feet in front of the truck.

I maneuver her small body between my legs, so we both have an unobstructed view ahead of us. I wrap her hands around my knees and hold on tight.

My chest heaves with another deep breath and that crackle of power heats her back.

The horde clears a little more. Cordie eases the truck forward.

It’s going to take us forever to get to town at this pace. My family is there, facing who knows what.

If touching her gives her a boost, then maybe touching her in different ways will result in more power.

I make a risky gamble, and I grind her ass against my hard dick.

That same flash of green light blinds me. Just like with lightning, the boom follows less than a second later. A shockwave flattens Cordie’s body against the steering wheel.

Inside the cabin of the truck, Mary Sue’s baby screams bloody murder.

Outside, the noise of too many animals has been replaced with silence.

I blink the stars out of my vision, only to see sizzling carcasses on the road as far as Cordie’s eyes can see.

“Oh, God,” she chokes out.

“Mary Sue? Baby Bennett?” I twist toward the rear to check that they’re all right.

The baby’s screeches are a good sign. I think. Mary Sue stares at the back of my head with wide eyes and a pale face. “What in Jesus Harold Christ was that?”

Fuck. I do not have time to deal with this complication right now. So long as everyone’s unharmed, we need to get going.

“I didn’t mean to! I don’t— I’m sorry! Oh God, I’m so sorry!” My chest heaves again, this time with an unchecked sob.

Ain’t no way Cordie’s driving us into town in her state .

I nudge my feet away from the pedals and grip the steering wheel.

The smell of burnt fur makes me gag. The constant thuds from the wheels running over bodies doesn’t help.

In the back seat, Mary Sue throws up while her baby wails. Cordie wheezes and cries behind me.

“It’s all right,” I soothe as I try to aim for the smaller bodies. “We just gotta work on your control a little is all.”

“It’s not all right,” she sobs. “I killed them! I killed them all!”

“Not all of them,” I mutter. “The humans are still breathing.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” she shouts.

I feel a pulse of power on her back. Mary Sue’s baby screams.

Shit. Gotta dial this witch down a notch.

“Whatever this is, I don’t want it,” Cordie pants. “Take it back.”

Still not in denial. I can work with that.

“I don’t think that’s how any of this works, Gingersnap,” I murmur, letting her back rest against my chest. If I can power her up with my actions, then maybe I can soothe her with different ones.

“I’m so sorry, Duke.” My voice sounds slurred, like she’s falling asleep. “I swear, I never meant to harm you or anyone else.”

I don’t know much about magic or mates or Mothman, but if I had to guess, I’d say using that kind of power tuckers even a powerful witch out, especially one who isn’t used to being a badass.

She lets out a fresh sob. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I could do.”

I hit the stoplight that leads to downtown, and I make a choice. “Hey, honey. Look up ahead. You didn’t get ‘em all. Might be you’re not as powerful as you’re imagining.”