Chapter Eleven

Jade

I shook loose from Magnus's grip to fumble in my pocket for my spare key. The black SUV charged across the parking lot behind us, a goon still firing at us from the passenger window. My car was still far away – too far to escape the bullets, the speeding vehicle.

I shoved Magnus hard, catching him off balance, making him stumble into the shelter between parked cars. Bullets bounced off the vehicles, but now the gunman sat on the wrong side to shoot me. Like a matador fighting a charging black bull, I danced out of the SUV's path, whipped out my baton, snapping it to its full length.

I didn't crack it across the driver's windshield.

Instead, I used it as I might a fencing sword, and jammed it hard through the driver's open window. Had the window been rolled up, my move would have gotten us both killed. As I'd seen it rolled down when they drove into the lot, my idea worked beautifully.

The baton's tip sank deep into the driver's eye.

He screamed.

His foot struck the accelerator as I'd hoped it would. The SUV lunged forward, its engine roaring, skidding across the snow-packed asphalt. The window's edge knocked the baton from the driver's eye, and my hand, to fall to the snow.

The big vehicle skidded, out of control, and slammed into a parked car on the passenger side, trapping the gunman inside.

"Shit," I muttered, awed, and picked up my baton. "That couldn't have worked out better had I planned it. GQ?"

Silence met my inquiry. We had only moments before one of the two goons would be out of the SUV and shooting at us again. I doubted the driver could, as he still screamed about his missing eye and how much he bled.

"Magnus?"

I found him down, lying on his face, between the two cars. I couldn't possibly have hurt him. "Magnus?"

His face rose from the snow. "Shit. I need help."

"We have to get out of here right now."

"Help me up."

I reached down, ran my hands under his right arm to half lift him. He grimaced in pain as he came up as far as his knees. "I got shot," he muttered thickly. "Shot."

"Holy fuck."

I didn't know what to do. But if I didn't get him into my car and out of that parking lot in like thirty seconds, we were both dead. "C'mon. I got you."

I shoved my way under his right shoulder, and half dragged him out from the cars and toward mine. My back sang with the effort, nearly stretched beyond my abilities. He helped, staggering along, gasping for breath.

At my car, I shot a rapid glance at the SUV. The driver still yelled, and the gunman shouted at him to shut up. Sirens wailed in the distance, drawing closer. No cops. Not yet.

Leaning Magnus against my car, I fumbled to open the rear passenger door. Swinging it wide, I all but shoved him onto the seat, kicked his legs in, then slammed it shut. Running around to my side, I saw the gunman struggling to climb into the back to open the driver's side rear.

I flipped him the bird. Whether he saw it or not, I didn't care. I leaped inside, started the engine, and hit the gas. Snow still covered the windshield, and the wipers only cleared it a small amount, barely enabling me to see where I was going.

Still, I swung past the SUV, my tires skidding as I spun the steering wheel, and drove to the street. I swung right and entered traffic without hitting anyone. Peering through the hole the wipers made, I caught sight of red and blue flashing lights as a cop car sped past going the other way.

"You still with me," I called.

"Yeah."

"You bleeding all over my leather, man?"

"Don't know."

"You'll clean it up, I'm telling you."

"Gotcha."

I had to see. I had to do what I could to halt Magnus from bleeding. Not just all over my leather but dying of blood loss. Why I felt I had to save his life, I didn't know. I knew I had to.

Driving down an alley a few blocks from the apartment, I stopped my car. Turning up the heat, I left the engine running, then got out to go around to the back seat. His face pasty white, Magnus still managed a wry grin.

"Where did you get hit?" I demanded, leaning inside.

"Upper shoulder," he mumbled. "Left. My arm won't work."

The back seat wasn't intended for much except sitting. In the cramped space, I worked his left sleeve from him, encouraged him to roll onto his side. Blood coated his shirt all the way to his waist. Tearing his shirt, I winced at the round hole that oozed blood faster than I liked.

I ripped more of his shirt from his torso, wadded it up, then pressed it against the wound. "Give me your hand."

Magnus's right hand eased over his shoulder. I took his fingers and pressed them against the cloth. "Hold that. Keep pressure on it."

"Okay."

I covered him with his jacket, looked him in his eyes. "I can't take you to a hospital."

"I know." He closed his eyes. "He'll find me there."

"Where is this safe house?"

"East side. Take the freeway east. Get off on Smith Road. Head north."

"That's a drive. I'll need you awake by the time I get that far. Keep pressure on it."

"Kay."

The heat partially thawed the ice on the windshield, forcing me to scrape more from the glass. Thus far, I saw no one who seemed interested in shooting us. Still, I worked fast, got in, and drove more sedately down the alley. I sure didn't need the cops pulling me over for speeding.

"You good?" I asked, turning onto the street.

"Yeah. So far."

"Hang in there, man. Stay with me."

"I'll do my best."

***

Forced to sit up in order to navigate, Magnus's weak voice told me where to turn and when. The neighborhood was so neglected that the city never bothered to plow the streets. I pulled into the driveway of the single-story house and looked at the smoke billowing from the chimney.

"Did you start a fire last time you were here?"

"Uh, no. Why?"

"The place appears to be occupied."

"Shit," Magnus muttered. "This sucks rocks."

"Stay in the car," I told him, making sure my baton was in my pocket. "I'll run them off."

"They might be dangerous," he called as I walked around to the back.

"So am I."

The back door, as Magnus had described, was unlocked and opened easily. I stepped cautiously into the nasty kitchen, breathing in the scent of woodsmoke and booze. Walking lightly on the balls of my feet, the baton in my grip, I stepped into the warm front room.

Two skinny meth heads busily drank whiskey in front of a roaring fire, oblivious to my presence. Though I felt a vague sort of compassion for them, Magnus had already claimed this house. They took advantage of his work to move in.

"Morning, gentlemen."

They both swiveled in shocked surprise. "Oo're you," one demanded, baring his toothless gums.

"We already claimed this house," I said reasonably. "You boys need to find another place to live."

"We like this ‘un," exclaimed the other. "All warm an' all."

I flicked my wrist. The baton snapped into place. Their eyes widened as I paced toward them, making damn sure they saw me for what I was. A threat. And a damn mean one.

"A'right, a'right," the first junkie protested, lifting his hand as though that would stop me. "We're goin'. Put that thing down, lady."

They stood, seizing their blankets, their booze, the plastic sacks that carried their worldly goods. Had my need for this house not been so dire, I'd have left them alone. As a safe house from Arnaud, this couldn't be any more perfect.

I followed as they rushed for the front door, then surged across the lawn. They barely glanced at my car and Magnus inside it, trotting through the snow to vanish down the street. After shoving my baton back where it belonged and into my pocket, I strode to the car.

"Come on," I said, helping Magnus out. "It's warm in there."

"Cool."

His right arm over my shoulder, Magnus shuffled beside me, his head low, his black hair tumbling over his brow. Once inside, I left him to stand while I dragged a ratty armchair closer to the fire. He sat with a sigh, but I worried about the dirt in the damn chair so close to his wound.

"I'm going to put the car in the garage," I said, relocking the front door. "Be right back."

"Cool."

After hiding the car, I put a kitchen chair under the back door's knob, then returned to Magnus. He sat with his eyes closed, his skin a grayish color I didn't care for. I touched his brow with my fingers, instantly waking him.

"Sorry," I murmured. "I don't know what I'm doing, but I should maybe have a look at that hole in your back."

"Knock yourself out."

I helped him remove his coat from around his shoulders, and, as he leaned forward, I took the bloody cloth from his wound. "It stopped bleeding."

"Good news."

The area around the hole looked bruised, swollen, and angry. "Can you move your arm?"

He managed to lift his left arm a few inches before the pain stopped him. "Maybe the bullet didn't break anything."

"All we can do is hope you'll heal even if it fractured a bone," I said. "Being a dragon should help that. We tend to heal fast."

"And the bullet?"

I tried to peer into the wound but saw nothing except black blood. "I can't see it, and I'm not digging for it."

Magnus leaned back and took my hand. "Docs don't always take bullets out. Only if there's a problem with leaving it in."

I crouched beside his chair, looking into his haggard face. "I have to get supplies. Food, water, something to clean that wound with. Blankets or sleeping bags, maybe air mattresses. But I don't want to leave you here alone."

"I'll be okay."

"Not if some yahoo decides he wants this house. You're a pushover in this state."

"Secrecy is the key, Jade. No one knows we're here. You're right. We need stuff."

I bit my lip, not liking to leave him. But I had little choice. "I should be back in a few hours. If I don't come back –"

"I'll shift and fly in search of you. Don't worry. I'm just going to sit here and maybe sleep."

"Okay."

Leaving by way of the garage, I backed the car out, then closed the heavy garage door. I saw no sign of anyone interested in making that house their own. In fact, I saw no one as I drove out of the neighborhood. Dark gray clouds hung over the city and the mountains, making me hope for another storm to cover the car's tracks.

First, I stopped at a branch of my bank, and asked for both a temporary card and a statement. The statement left me breathless. "F-five million dollars. Oh my God."

"Is there a problem?" the manager asked.

"Uh, no. Sorry."

"Here's your temporary card. Your permanent card will be sent to you in the mail."

I smiled. "That'll be great, thanks."

At a sporting goods store, I bought sleeping bags, air mattresses, a camp stove with propane, a couple of thick wool shirts for Magnus, a heavy winter coat, a pair of good belt knives. As I shopped, I kept a watch for anyone who might be following me.

I saw nothing and no one that seemed out of the ordinary.

After stowing my purchases in the car's trunk, I stepped around to open the driver's door.

A black Chevy SUV eased into the parking lot and stopped a short distance away.