Chapter 44: Piers

Piers's capable hands grip the wheel as he drives toward the border. I perch behind him and Sage, wedging myself between the front seats. Sage has calmed somewhat, but his hostility for Piers wafts toward me like a flower's aroma and I know having my sorcerer friend here is triggering the wolf in Sage far more than anything else has.

There is only one explanation. My love's wolf feels Piers's affection for me and sees him as a threat. But I can't bring myself to ask Piers to leave.

"So," the handsome young Southway says in his cheerful voices, "where are we heading besides Austria?"

"California," I say. He glances sideways at me, a little surprised.

"Why California? Ah!" He answers his own question before I can respond. "Caine and his pack."

"They are revenants, I'm sure of it." I lower my head, mind whirling. "But they are different, Piers. Controlled, somehow. And they must have access to power, because they haven't devolved into emptiness and insanity."

"Controlled," he says. "Like your people were when the Black Souls created them," Piers nods. "You think sorcerers have been trying to make new werewolves." He shrugs at my tilted head. "I caught most of that when you were talking to Syd. So you think the answer to Sage's problem," as though it's just a minor inconvenience or something, "resides in California."

"Caine bit him." I know it in my heart. Piers shoots me another look, but doesn't argue or ask for proof while Sage hisses. "Caine's from California. And Sage is nothing like the revenants I've had dealings with. He's totally different, even from Caine and his pack."

"How different?" Piers pulls to a halt behind a thin line of cars. We've reached the border. I'm nervous suddenly, digging for our passports, handing them to my sorcerer friend while I wait for Enforcers to swoop in and take us at any moment. But Piers shows no sign of worry so I can only believe we aren't at risk.

"He feels more like a real werewolf." It's the first time I've said it out loud. I catch Sage's narrowed stare.

"I hate to keep reminding you," he says, voice mellow despite his glare, "but I am present and accounted for. You really need to stop talking about me like I'm not."

I reach forward and take his hand in mine. He relaxes instantly, though I catch the glance Piers gives our connection and worry about how he's feeling. If it's hurting him, he doesn't show it.

"So you think Sage is a successful revenant, whatever these sorcerers were trying to achieve." We move forward one car length.

"I do," I say. "Which means they will be looking for him," I meet Sage's eyes, "for us, too, won't they?" Another truth I haven't allowed myself to speak until now.

Piers nods abruptly. "Good thing I'm with you after all," he says. He shakes the steering wheel with a surge of anger. "Damn it, if only I could just take you directly there. But Femke's requested my mother and the Steam Union be on the search for you, too. I know Mum is keeping a close eye on me."

"You being here could put us at risk." Sage has never sounded so empty.

I squeeze his hand again, this time in denial while Piers sighs.

"Possibly," he says, pulling up at last to the border station with our passports in one hand and a smile on his face for the agent. "But until that's proven to me, I'm not going anywhere but with you two."

I wait for the guard to have us arrested, certain Iosif has failed me, that this is some grand scheme to capture Sage again. But when the smiling guard hands the passports back and Piers drives off into Austria, I finally allow myself to release the anxiety keeping my body tense.

"We need to reach a major center," Piers says. "And fly to the States."

I nod. "But far from Ukraine," I say. "How far?"

Piers releases one hand from the steering wheel and runs it over his blond ponytail, the end of it brushing over my free hand. The silk strands tickle.

"I'm thinking we're tourists," he says, bright and vapid. "Seeing Spain for the first time. But we need to get home for school, don't we?" His British accent vanishes as he turns to Sage. "Right, bro?"

Sage frowns. "I'm not your bro."

I poke my love and wink, schooling my own accent to General American. "It's been fun and all," I say, "but yeah. Time to go home to the good old US of A."

Piers laughs. "Perfect."

We're barely ten miles from the border when I feel them. I've only just sat back to try to close my eyes for a while, when the pressure of Enforcer magic wakes me and drives me forward in my seat.

Piers hisses and nods without speaking. He's felt them, too. We pull over abruptly, Piers slamming open the driver's door while I scramble out the back, helping Sage with our bags as Piers gestures for us to hurry.

We slip into the woods on the steep road and run for cover. I glance back, see the car revert to the state we'd stolen it in, knowing that will alert the Enforcers they are on our trail. Lights in the distance pull us forward, to civilization in the form of another small town.

"We need a new ride." Piers leaves me with Sage who pants like a dog. Not out of breath, but from intensity and worry. I grip his hand tightly, not daring to risk a touch of power to help him pull himself down from the brink of his wolf. He's recovered enough when Piers pulls up a moment later in a shiny red sports car.

"Get in."

I don't care where it's come from, or if it still looks like the one Piers actually stole. All I care about is Sage and escape. The touch of the Enforcers is still there, but focused on something, most likely the car we abandoned. I slip into the back, the tiny space barely big enough for Sage, let alone the two of us, and hold on as Piers hits the gas and peels away.

"They must have tracked the car," Piers says, tension in his voice. "We should be okay, now."

I'm perched in Sage's lap, the bags squished beside us, my head pressed to the roof. He's hot, his temperature running higher than normal, and he lets out a sharp hiss when I try to adjust my position. I brush my lips over his cheek as an apology, resisting the sudden urge to kiss him, if only to spare Piers the sight of us making out in the back seat while he drives us to safety.

I settle as best I can, flexing muscles when my foot tries to go to sleep. It's not long before I feel them again, the Enforcers. They might not have our scent, but they know we are close and they are gaining on us.

Piers swears in three different languages before pulling over in another town. Some kind of festival is happening, streamers and balloons everywhere. We abandon the car in the back of a petrol station and hurry into the morning's crowd of celebrants.

"Now what?" Sage's voice is a deep growl.

"We keep running," Piers says. "I just need to get us away from here."

The mass of people must do the trick, because the press of Enforcer magic bypasses us and moves on. I pull on Sage, tugging him after Piers, and, within a few minutes, we're driving again, this time in a small family van my sorcerer friend has liberated.

"Made the mistake of using sorcery to disguise the car last time," he says as I drive after taking the keys from his hands. "This should do it."

Sage is in the back with our bags, leaning forward between the seats as I'd done. "Or," he says in cold monotone, "you being with us is attracting them."

I don't want to believe it, but Sage might be right. "You said your mother would know," I say.

"She can't be watching me that carefully." The denial in Piers's voice turns to regret. "Damn her, she's treating me like a lure." He reaches for the wheel, jerks it hard to the side of the road. I slam on the brakes, pull over even as he opens the door, ready to leap out though the van is only just coming to a stop. "I'm sorry," he says. "I thought I was helping. Be safe, get to an airport." He takes the scarf from around my neck. Pauses and kisses me abruptly. Sage snarls, but Piers is already moving again, leaning in the back to liberate one of Sage's gloves. "I'll lead them away, make them think you're with me. Should give you time to get away. Dump this van, get on a train. The speed will confuse them if I fail." Piers pauses one moment, anguish showing. "I'll see you in California."

He slams the door, waving me on. I glance back, seeing his tall body retreat in the rearview just before a tunnel of black opens.

Charlotte, he sends. Maybe I was wrong about Wilhelm.

And then, he's gone.



***