Page 162 of Vampire so Virtuous

“Deliberate maneuver,” Noah grunted.

“Sure it was!” Zoey retorted. “They’re still back there. About fifty yards.”

“Road’s opening out,” Noah said, flooring it down a straight four-lane highway.

“They’re closing in.” Zoey unfolded the shoulder stock on her weapon.

“Can’t do anything about it. Road’s too open.”

“Can I have a gun?” Cally asked. They both ignored her.

“I’m on the wrong damn side for shooting,” Zoey complained as she opened her window, then pivoted in her seat and stuck her head and shoulders out.

Shots rang out, echoing through the car as Zoey fired in short bursts. Ahead, two cars filled the lanes, and Noah swung onto the other side of the road.

“In!” he shouted, swerving back between the next pair. Zoey barely cleared the window as their SUV skimmed the cars on either side. The passenger wing mirror snapped off and Noah shot it an irritated look. “Wasn’t using that anyway.”

“No shit you weren’t.”

A long burst of gunfire came from behind them, but Cally couldn’t tell where the bullets went.

“Amateurs,” Zoey grunted.

“Coming up on I-93,” Noah said, voice tense. “Where the hell’s our backup?”

Zoey tossed her phone to Cally. “See if there’s any update.”

“Where do I—?”

“WhatsApp.”

Cally flicked open the phone. The home screen had only a couple of apps and a neutral background. She thumbed the green and white phone icon with a half-dozen red badge alerts. Skimming the messages, she said, “They’re joining at Columbia Road.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Noah shouted. “We’ll practically be there by then!”

He swerved onto the onramp, accelerating hard past a line of cars, then ducked into a gap as an oncoming car flashed its headlights. The interstate stretched ahead, their lane curving to meet it, and Noah took full advantage of the dirt ground alongside. The car skidded, wheels spinning, but held on as they raced to join the five-lane road.

“This is where it gets wild,” he said.

Zoey unzipped her bag, pulling out two magazines and handing them to Cally. “Hold these, sweetheart.”

Cally juggled the phone into the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie, accepting the rounds. “Can I have a gun?”

“No, you cannot have a gun.”

“Give her your Beretta,” Noah grunted.

Zoey pulled it from her shoulder holster and handed it over, clearly reluctant. “Round in the chamber. Ever shot one of these?”

“Just pull the trigger, right?”

That earned her a scowl. “Safety is there,” she said. “It’s on unless you’re firing. Try not to shoot Noah in the back of the head, m’kay?”

“Practical tip, thanks.” Cally had been to the range with her Dad a few times. That had been fun. This was not.

Noah was in the outside lane, flashing past cars like they were standing still. Occasionally, he’d duck back in to undertake before pulling out again.

“They’re gaining,” he said, just as a burst of automatic fire cracked through the air, bullets pinging across the roof. Cally flinched, her grip tightening on her seat as Noah swerved violently.