Page 4 of Utterly Dauntless (Return to Culloden Moor #3)
CHAPTER FOUR
T he shushing of tires on wet asphalt and the occasional roar of a passing lorry were the only sounds accompanying Aries as she drove south from Oban. She didn't appreciate any of the radio stations that had been programmed into the rental, and she hadn't risked the time it might take to reset them. So she was left with her own thoughts as her only source of entertainment.
The picturesque harbor town, with its bustling shops and cheerful cafes, had offered a temporary respite, a fleeting illusion of normalcy. The new scarf was a vibrant splash of emerald green against the grey of her coat. And the lingering taste of dark chocolate dulled the edge of her constant state of vigilance.
Or at least it had...
Now, as the road wound along the Firth of Lorn, a familiar unease pricked the back of her neck. Something wasn’t right. She scanned her surroundings and triple-checked her mirrors. She shook herself physically to get her blood moving, then exhaled slowly. This was no time to let her imagination run wild. But if something was wrong, she had to know.
She had trained herself to spot patterns, to notice shifts in rhythm, disruptions in the flow of people and things in her periphery. She glanced in the rearview mirror again and caught sight of a blue van. Was it the same one that had followed her from Inverness?
She'd pulled off the road at a scenic lay-by and allowed it to pass, just in case. Then she hadn't seen it again. And she'd been watching.
Now it was back. The same large driver. The same make and model. The same rust on the bumper.
What were the chances the guy had spent the exact amount of time in Oban, or anywhere, in order to hit the road again at exactly the same time she had?
Slim. Very, very slim.
She tightened her grip on the wheel, pretended she hadn't noticed him, and glanced at the mirror at regular intervals. But the distance remained constant. If it was one of Grey's friends, they wouldn't hurt her. It would be tough to shake him off, but she was in no real danger.
So why was her fight-or-flight mechanism screaming?
Who else would be following her? Some creep who just happened to be headed south at exactly the same pace?
She'd already ruled out coincidence. And if not one of The 79, that meant this was intentional.
Despite her comfortable bank account, she never drove anything flashy, didn't wear expensive clothes or jewelry, and did her best not to stand out in a crowd, any crowd. So why would a stranger follow her?
What if it wasn't a stranger?
A wave of icy fear washed over her. She couldn't imagine anyone more determined than Grey Strachan. And she couldn't imagine anyone else coming after her. After years of living off the grid, blending in, and avoiding personal attachments, had she harmed someone without knowing?
The road ahead narrowed, the mountains rising on either side, watching to see what she would do. Each time she saw a flash of blue in the mirror, more adrenaline splashed through her body. Each time she passed an exit, she prayed he would take it. But then the blue would return.
Beside her, the doll rattled against the cake tin. The teacup was safely packed in layers of bubble wrap. As long as she could stay on the road and stay awake, she was safe too. She just hoped the van ran out of gas before she did.
If she had her powers back, she would wish she would have stayed in Inverness, would have risked facing Grey.
Grey! Of course!
He could put an end to this torture.
She pulled out her new burner phone and didn't hesitate punching in his number. He could probably track her before she could destroy it, but she didn't care. Anything was better than drawing out this terror when he might be able to help, and there was no doubt about it—he would be eager to do anything she asked. She was just careful to never take advantage of that.
His voice mail picked up instantly. She waited for the beep.
"Grey? Listen. If this guy in the blue van is one of yours, call him off, would you? He's freaking me out."
She ended the call and tossed the phone on the empty seat. She held her head straight but her eyes cut to the side mirror. The van was catching up!
Objects in mirror are closer than they appear...