Page 163 of Vampire so Virtuous

Another sharp burst of fire, followed by the sickening thud of bullets slamming into the rear window. They all instinctively ducked, but it held, a spiderweb of cracks and dents.

“Bulletproof glass?” Cally asked, her voice tight.

“Natch.” Zoey twisted in her seat to peer out.

“Not complaining, but how come your car is bulletproof?”

“Not mine. Marcel’s,” Noah grunted.

“Huh. Really?” Cally said, then tried to bury her fear by lightening the mood. “I had him down as the little town-car type. Or maybe a Rolls.”

Noah barked a laugh, then swung wide across the road, racing up the hard shoulder to hide behind a string of eighteen-wheelers.

But one of the large semi-trucks swung out ahead of them, its brake lights lighting up.

“Shit!” Noah braked hard, ducking back between the vehicles. Immediately, a weapon opened up, spraying the side of their car with bullets, punching into Cally’s door. The car lurched, almost hitting the large wheels of the nearest truck. A second later, another burst struck the rear window, and this time, it shattered.

“Get down!” Zoey yelled, leaning over the back seats to return fire. The noise was deafening, gunfire echoing and reverberating in the enclosed space, bringing a sense of claustrophobic pressure. Cally slumped in her seat, gripping Zoey’s pistol in one hand, a heavy magazine in the other. She gritted her teeth, hating the helplessness. What was the point of having witch magic if she couldn’t use it at a time like this?

“Magazine!” Zoey called, the empty cartridge dropping from her weapon. She extended her hand, and Cally slapped the fresh one into her palm.

Zoey slammed it into the machine gun’s slot, cocked the action, and fired again. Short bursts every two or three seconds, the weapon jerking back against her shoulder.

The loud crunch of metal on metal came from behind them, but Zoey didn’t stop firing.

“Did you get one?” Noah yelled over the chaos.

“Not yet,” Zoey shouted back. “They hit a civilian.”

Confirmation, if Cally needed it, that both these thralls were military. Hadn’t Antoine found them on a park bench? Now they were risking their lives for her, blindly obedient.

And she wasn’t questioning it. Why not? Did she no longer see thralls as humans?

Or was she so scared she’d let anyone take the bullets meant for her?

Fuck that.

Cally pushed the button for her window. The wind rushed in, blowing her hair around her face.

“What are you doing?” Zoey bellowed over the noise.

“Helping!”

The handgun Zoey had given her was a uniform matte black with a textured grip, iron sights, and a push safety. She grasped it two-handed, the way her dad had shown her, and glanced out the window. The same gray SUV she’d seen before was three car lengths back, coming up fast on their outside, with two men in the front. The passenger had an automatic weapon aimed at their car.

“Get down!” she yelled, ducking back behind her door. Zoey pulled away from the rear window as bullets thunked into the bodywork.

“Thanks,” Zoey called, rising up over the seats again, then yelled, “How much longer, Noah?”

“That’s the basin!” he shouted back, as open water appeared out of the right-side windows. “Two miles to backup!”

About ninety seconds at this speed.

Cally risked peering past the edge of her door in time to see the gray SUV swing away, almost parallel with them. She grimly pushed the safety switch, raised her weapon, and fired.

“Windows are bulletproof!” Zoey yelled. “Go for the tires!”

Their vehicle was swerving wildly as Noah tried to make them a harder target. Wind buffeted her arm, the trigger was heavier than it felt on the range, and they were flying down the interstate at a hundred. She felt like shouting back, ‘I can hardly hit the car, let alone the tires,’ but Zoey thought little enough of her as it was. Instead, she gritted her teeth, lifted the firearm, and aimed lower. She squeezed the trigger twice more, unsure where the first two rounds went, but the third dented the passenger door, beneath their open window. The thrall inside flinched, then his face twisted as he spat a curse.