5. Followed

5

FOLLOWED

Wren's stomach dropped. "What are our options?"

Fang's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll find a quiet spot off the highway and take them down. It's either that, or I drive faster. But this car doesn't blend in with the others. It's purple. Fuck."

"It's too dangerous for you to fight them alone." Wren fidgeted. "There's... There's another option."

"What?"

"I can make us invisible for a very short time. And change the paint job so it's black."

Fang narrowed his eyes. "But?"

"It's going to take a lot out of me. I—I think I can manage it."

"You sure about this, Wren? You don't have to. I can deal with it."

But Wren had seen the baby kidnappers swarm a mansion; he'd heard about them attacking a dragon in the sky. Fang was only one person; no matter how strong he was, he couldn't face down an army.

And they'd only just begun their trip.

"I'll do it," Wren said.

Fang reached over, folding his warm hand around Wren's. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I'll try not to."

He closed his eyes and focused, gathering what was left of his magic that he hadn't spent on his fireproofing spells. This was more difficult—the car was larger than the things he'd spelled earlier, and he also had to extend the radius of the spell so it covered any road dust the tires kicked up.

As quickly and carefully as he could, Wren began drawing runes on the dashboard. He pushed his energy through his fingertip, growing more lethargic as his scribbling went on. His eyelids grew heavy; he had to struggle to breathe.

But he completed the spell, pushing a final pulse of magic into the runes to activate them.

And suddenly Wren was looking at the asphalt beneath him, with the barest shimmer of a car around them. It felt as though they were all hurtling down the highway with no protection, and it was unnerving.

Fang swore. He took the first exit ramp that came up, making right turns, then left turns, until they were in the middle of a small town. "You did great."

"I still have to change the car's color," Wren mumbled weakly.

Fang's shimmery-invisible shape frowned at him. "Don't do it if it's going to hurt you."

"I'll use a different type of magic. It should be fine."

Fang frowned harder. "Are you sure?"

He pulled into a school parking lot and looked around carefully, before parking in an empty spot between two cars. He cut the engine.

"Wren?"

"I can't hold the invisibility spell anymore," Wren said.

Fang cocked his head like he was listening. "We're safe. There's no one around. Release the spell."

With a sigh, Wren let go of the buzzing thread in his body, sagging into his seat. The car shimmered back into view around them.

Fang's expression was drawn tight. "Are you okay?"

"I will be. I just... need rest."

"Wren." Fang took his hand again.

"I'm really low on magic," Wren slurred, fighting to keep his eyes open. "But I can use blood magic. I just need a bit of blood. Enough to write the runes."

"Use mine."

Wren frowned. "But—"

"You're almost blacking out. Can you even cast spells right now?" Fang asked. "We can get a rental—"

But a rental car meant leaving behind a paper trail. It meant exposing themselves to more people. Wren pulled himself together. "I'll—I'll use your blood. Just need a tiny bit."

"All right. But first." Fang unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbing one of the cups in the cup holders. Their forgotten coffees.

Fang cradled the back of Wren's head. With his other hand, he pressed the cup to Wren's lips.

Wren moaned when sweet, minty mocha filled his mouth. It tingled his taste buds and warmed him from the inside, replenishing a bit of his strength.

"That's it," Fang murmured. "Drink more."

Wren drank until he felt stronger. Only then did Fang pull the cup away, looking into his eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. I need to do that spell."

Fang huffed and smiled a little. "Show me that you can at least sit upright."

Wren unbuckled his seatbelt. Then he shuffled around to face Fang, and found the man watching him proudly.

"All right," Fang murmured. "You can have my blood."

The nail on Fang's index finger turned into a sharp black claw. He dug it into his wrist; blood began flowing out.

"I need a bit more than that." Wren fumbled his way out of the car. Fang joined him, hiding his wrist between them in case anyone happened to pass by.

"Where do you need me?" Fang asked.

"Just—Close." Wren dipped his fingertip into the blood. He began writing across the side of the hood, one painstaking stroke at a time. Fang angled his body to cover up the bloody runes; he flexed his fingers, too, to get more blood flowing.

When Wren was done, he pushed the dregs of his magic into the runes to activate them. Blood magic worked even better than regular magic, because it contained the life of a person. But a person's blood was finite, and it could be used to trap its giver—that was why it was so risky to use it.

With a faint shimmer, the car's deep purple paint job darkened into black. And now it looked just the same as several others in the lot.

Wren breathed a sigh of relief.

"You did so well," Fang murmured. He slid his fingers into Wren's hair and pulled him close, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. Wren's heart skipped. "Now, I want you to rest."

"But Steffie needs her formula—"

"I'll drive us somewhere else and prepare it Get back in the car."

Wren stumbled on his way in. Fang scooped him off his feet, depositing him gently on the passenger seat.

Before Fang could shut the door, Wren reached out, grabbing his still-bleeding wrist.

Fang arched his eyebrow. He didn't pull his arm away, though. So Wren brought Fang's wrist to his mouth, licking the bloody wound.

"I heard that saliva helps wounds heal faster," Wren mumbled.

Fang's eyes darkened. He took his wrist back from Wren and dragged his tongue over his injury, a slow, sensual caress. As though he was... tasting Wren's saliva?

He didn't even break their gaze.

Wren flushed and looked at his feet, his heart pounding.

Fang took them back onto the highway. He drove for more minutes as Steffie whimpered, finally pulling them into another small town. Then he parked behind a coffee shop and got out of the car, retrieving Steffie's supplies from the trunk.

"I can prepare that," Wren began.

"Sit your pretty ass down," Fang rumbled. "Tell me if I'm doing it right."

He brought the diaper bag to the driver's seat, fishing out formula and a clean bottle. Wren watched as Fang scooped formula into the bottle, followed by warm water from a thermos.

"That's enough water," Wren said.

Fang capped the bottle and shook it up.

"That's probably good," Wren told him. "Test the temperature on the inside of your elbow."

Fang tested it. "Feels fine. Then again, she's a little fireball, isn't she? Does temperature matter?"

Wren flushed. "I—I hadn't thought of that. Maybe it doesn't matter."

Fang handed him the bottle, then went around to retrieve Steffie from her car seat.

He scooped her out easily. Wren hadn't realized that Fang knew how to handle babies—until he was suddenly faced with a man who had Steffie cradled in his hands, shifting her easily to one arm so he could open the passenger door. Wren couldn't stop staring.

Steffie was so tiny next to Fang. She lay comfortably against him, and when Fang looked at her... There was a softness to his expression that hadn't been there before.

Carefully, Fang handed Steffie over, his arm accidentally brushing against Wren's chest.

Wren swallowed. Fang dropped his gaze to Wren's breastbone, then flicked up to his face.

"Is this okay?" Fang murmured.

Wren nodded wordlessly.

When Steffie was settled and sucking greedily on her bottle, Fang leaned in, bracing his forearm against the roof of the car. "I'm heading into the coffee shop for a few minutes. Need anything from there?"

Wren shook his head. "You've already given me plenty."

"All right. Be right back." Fang brushed his knuckle along Wren's jaw. Then he shut all the doors and locked the car, jogging into the building.

In Fang's absence, Wren peered around the parking lot, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious.

No one even looked at their car. He relaxed when Fang jogged out with another paper bag, and a new drink.

"More food?" Wren blurted when Fang opened the passenger door.

Fang grinned, all sharp teeth. "I got you another peppermint mocha. Decaf this time. And another smoked salmon bagel."

Wren's heart skipped. "Oh. I, um. I haven't finished the first mocha."

"It's getting cold." Fang tucked the paper bag between Wren and the center console. Then he grabbed Wren's cold peppermint mocha, and moved both cups to the car hood so he could transfer some of the fresh drink into the first cup. "Now both of them are decently warm."

Wren blushed. "You didn't have to."

"You got us out of a situation that could've gone really badly," Fang rumbled. "I'm just showing my appreciation."

He lingered on Wren's side of the car, taking the bottle when Steffie was done with it.

"She needs a diaper change," Fang said suddenly.

Wren blinked. "How'd you know?"

He checked, and realized Fang was right.

Fang smiled wryly. "Smelled it. This nose has its downsides."

"Does that mean I can never fart around you?" Wren blurted. And instantly regretted it. When he tried to hide his face behind Steffie, his arms trembled under her weight.

"I would appreciate it if you did that elsewhere, but I won't hold it against you if you can't."

"Okay, shh. Shh. Let's change the subject," Wren said quickly. "Let's pretend I'm a perfect person who doesn't fart."

Fang snorted.

When Wren tried to climb out of the car, Fang scooped Steffie out of his arms.

"Sit," Fang said.

"But the diaper—"

"I know how to change diapers."

"You do?"

Fang gave a crooked smile. "I grew up in a pack, you know. There were several pups around. I helped to care for them."

A man like that... Surely several people wanted to be his mate. "Um. Why don't you have a mate?"

Fang's expression shuttered. "Let's save that for another day."

"Okay." Another subject change, then. Except Wren's entire body felt so heavy, and he couldn't help with Steffie at all. "But Steffie—"

"You should rest. You've done a lot today, and it's not even noon."

Wren sighed and sagged into the seat, his eyelids drooping.

He meant to watch as Fang did the diaper change. But he blinked, and suddenly Steffie was in his lap, in a fresh pair of diapers.

"Here." Fang leaned away. "Hold her for a bit while I get rid of our trash. Be right back."

Wren watched as he disappeared around the building, cuddling his little girl and breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. "I wish I was good enough for him," he whispered. "But I'm just me."

Steffie grabbed his hair and kicked happily. Wren spent the next few moments trying to ease off her iron grip.

"You okay there?" Fang asked when he got back. "It's time for Steffie to return to the car seat."

"I should spell the windows."

Fang frowned deeply. "You're exhausted."

"But—"

"Why don't we drape her backpack over her? That helps, right? Since you've already spelled it to hide her."

Wren tried not to think about Steffie kicking the backpack off. Her powers were only guaranteed to be invisible when she was completely sealed in the bag, but there wasn't enough space in it for her to kick and move. And they still had several more hours of driving to go.

"I guess you can use the backpack like a blanket," Wren said reluctantly.

Fang buckled Steffie into the car seat. Then they were driving again, and Wren slouched.

"Recline the seat. Get some sleep."

"I should stay awake in case I can help."

Fang covered Wren's hand with his own. "You used a lot of your strength today, Wren. Sleeping will help you regain some of it. I promise to wake you if we're in danger, all right? I do feel better with you backing me up."

Fang said all that sincerely, and it made something bright swell in Wren's chest. He blushed. "All right."

"Sleep," Fang said, turning the radio knob so it switched to classical music.

Wren was snoring before he even knew it.