Page 130 of Walking in Darkness

Dani giggled. “But of course.”

Timothy let go of an unrestrained laugh. “You should have seen her the other night when we were coming after you, Aria. She was notabout to waste a second. I might have lost consciousness once or twice from the G’s she was pulling.”

A chuckle rolled out of me. I couldn’t believe he was joking in the middle of this, but I appreciated it more than he knew.

I sank back into the seat, struggling to tame the way the blood slogged through my veins.

“Shit,” I finally forced out, the word heaving from my lungs like a thousand-pound weight I was shucking, and I scrubbed both palms over my face as I tipped my attention to the roof of the car. “Wasn’t sure we were going to make it out of there without cuffs slapped around our wrists.”

Timothy fully shifted around so he could look back at me, an arrogant smile pulled onto his face. “O ye of little faith. How could you have ever doubted us? Our beautiful Dani here is not the only badass around—our whole crew obviously has mad skills.”

Then he sobered as he glanced between the three of us. “A good fucking team is what we are.”

I caught Aria’s eye as she reached over and threaded her fingers through mine, and she locked sight with Dani through the rearview mirror before she turned her attention to Timothy and gave him a nod of agreement.

“Yeah,” I added. “We’re a good fucking team.”

We had to be.

Because it was one we were staking all our lives upon.

Chapter Forty-One

Aria

We’d been driving for more than five hours.

We’d crossed into Idaho and the scenery had become the most desolate stretch of road that we had traveled since Pax and I had first come together, and we’d spent more hours than I could count driving roads where it felt as if we might be the only ones on them. The houses and small towns that had been sporadically placed along our routes.

The rare cars and trucks we encountered during that time had made it feel as if we’d been secluded from the rest of the world.

Maybe lifted and elevated above it.

For a few moments, given a reprieve from the dangerous force that had tracked us for weeks.

This was an entirely different sensation, though, driving toward the danger we could feel compelling us forward. A danger that grew thicker and more menacing with each mile that passed.

The few moments of levity we’d found when we sped out of Portland had quickly evaporated.

In their place was something ominous.

A foreboding that crowded overhead as the terrain blurred by through the windows we each warily watched from. A river had followed us nearly the entire way, weaving along the side of the highway as we cut through the low range of mountains that appeared more like hills than anything else.

The knolls and rises nearly void of trees.

A landscape of snow-covered fields that had rolled on forever, the same as the heavens seemed to roll overhead. Laden with heavy clouds that hung low from the sky.

For a hundred miles or so outside Portland, the clouds had at least been pale gray, rimmed in fiery whites from the sun, which struggled to shine from behind them.

Though now, that light had lapsed.

The clouds growing denser the farther we got from the city. Every ounce of the sun obstructed as a storm had gathered from every direction, sitting heavy on the horizon.

Amassing as the clouds thickened.

Their bellies bloated and bulging, sending darkness curling over the earth.

Dimming the air in an omen we could taste.