Pia slouched in the back behind the driver’s seat, arms crossed as she watched the dirty white, winter scenery scroll past. She could sense Dragos flying overhead, although they didn’t talk telepathically. Everything had already been said, shouted and argued out a while ago. After following the two-car cavalcade for about forty minutes, she could feel him wheeling and beginning the return flight back to the city.
She shifted restlessly in her seat. Her head pounded. On the sound system, 2Pac rapped “Ballad of a Dead Soulja.” Beside her, Johnny slouched in fatigues and a T-shirt, his light brown hair pulled into an untidy ponytail. He was totally absorbed in playing a handheld game.
Eva drove while James rode shotgun, literally, with the butt of a late-model SCAR (which, Pia had been told, stood for Special Operations Forces—SOF—combat assault rifle) resting on the floor between his boots. Eva’s kinky black hair was cropped short, emphasizing the graceful shape of her skull. As Pia looked at the rearview mirror, her gaze collided with the reflection of Eva’s contemptuous glance. Pia’s already strained temper gave up trying to control her behavior. It slunk away and took her better half with it.
She said, “I want to listen to Kenny G now. Or maybe Michael Bolton.”
Johnny’s head came up. James twisted to look at her.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Eva said. She turned to James. “Tell me she’s fucking kidding me.”
Pia felt childish, petty and vindictive. The drama queen had turned into a two-year-old, and the toddler was having a tantrum. She said to James, “Change it.”
“Woman wants it changed,” James said, expressionlessly. He punched buttons. Easy listening music filled the Cadillac.
“That’s just fucking great,” Eva muttered. “We’re going to be stuck in a goddamn elevator for the rest of the goddamn day.”
Pia hated elevator music too. She smiled and settled back into her seat. Now everybody else was almost as miserable as she was.
Time dragged along with the miles that scrolled behind them, and the urban scenery remained the same, dull brick factories, black railroad lines ribboning through dirty snow, rows of houses and the occasional shopping center. Nobody spoke, at least not out loud. The two Cadillacs wove smoothly through the sporadic Sunday morning traffic on the interstate, not always staying together to avoid drawing too much attention, but always keeping within sight of each other.
As Pia watched the passing landscape, she couldn’t help but think of the last time she had made this trip, seven months ago. The two trips were almost perfect opposites of each other.
Last May she had been on the run, frightened, exhausted and alone, while everything around her had been bursting into bloom. This time she was mated, pregnant—her hand curled protectively over her stomach’s slight bump—and surrounded by the most effective, if surly, soldiers in the Wyr demesne, and it was flipping cold outside, as winter held New York by the scruff of the neck with sharp, white teeth.
January in Charleston would feel positively balmy in contrast, with daytime highs up to sixty degrees and nighttime lows around thirty-eight to forty degrees. Mostly what Pia was looking forward to, though, was the lack of snow on the South Carolina coast. In late December, New York had been hit with one of the worst blizzards on record, and it would take months for all the mountains of snow to melt.
Ninety minutes into the trip, she stirred. “I have to stop.”
Eva glanced at her again in the mirror. “Does her?” said Eva in a baby-talk kind of voice. “Where would herself like to stop?”
James stirred and said, “Evie.”
“What?” Eva snapped. “We barely got on the road, and princess already wants to take a break. And while I’m on the subject, why are we driving and not flying? We could be there in a couple of hours, instead of the trip taking the whole goddamn day.”
“It’s none of your fucking business why we’re driving instead of flying,” Pia said icily. “And princess here doesn’t give a shit where we stop, just as long as we do in the next ten minutes. Got it?”
“Sure, doll-face,” Eva said. “Any little thing herself wants, herself gets.”
As Eva signaled and cut right from the fast lane to the exit lane, Pia watched the other woman in the mirror and thought, Imma have to kick your ass before the day’s out, aren’t I?
Yeah, it was shaping up to be a great trip so far.
And they were on a mission of diplomacy.
The other Cadillac cut across traffic to join their SUV, and the two vehicles took the next exit ramp. Their choices for stopping included two gas stations, a McDonald’s, a Denny’s and a Quik Mart. Eva pulled into the McDonald’s lot and parked. Pia stepped out and headed for the restaurant. The other six surrounded her so casually it seemed to happen by accident. The psychos had smooth moves, she would give them that much.