He roars, teeth bared. Punches his fingers deep into the leather cushions on either side of my hips, down to the metal bars that bolt the seats to the floor. Holds tight, stopping himself. He growls with the effort, eyes pinned to mine, body nearly vertical, feet to the sky. “Stay—in the—”

“What?!” I screech, heart pounding.

Lark nods once, firm—and lets go.

As he flies upward, he smacks a button beside the steering wheel. The opaque privacy shield between the front seat and the back snaps shut with a whoosh. The back windshield and left and right windows follow. The hissing sound of suction. I’m sealed in. Trapped in the murky dark of an armored cabin that is barely illuminated by dim emergency lights along the floor and ceiling.

Then, whatever is holding the car lets go—and the car tips forward faster than it tilted back.

Thousands of pounds of metal and steel hit the road with a bone-shattering boom. We’re back on four wheels.

I shove my shoulder against the rear driver’s side door. “Lark!” I slap at the door controls, trying to get something to open. The privacy shield, the windows—anything. They don’t budge.

“Lark!” I kick at the front seats, but they’re immovable. Outside there’s a muffled shout, a growl—BAM!

The car tilts again. I go tumbling. Sideways and to the right this time. Like someone kicked the left side so hard that the Beast floats up on its right.

The car hovers on two wheels. Metal creaks.

For half a second, the passenger side door is nearly beneath my feet.

Then, gravity. We fall back.

The car lands on all fours again with another deep whomp. I hit the floor shoulder-first. Pain shoots across my chest.

BAM! Another kick to the rear driver’s side door dents the metal a few inches from my head.

This time the Beast flips up and all the way over.

I’m tossed like a doll. The hood meets the ground, my back hits the ceiling.

The car lies still, but my breath is gone—knocked from my lungs.

Can’t breathe.

Can’t breathe.

Can’t—

I writhe in pain, ears ringing, tears burning my eyes, willing my lungs to work—

Abruptly, air punches back into my chest, leaving me gasping, staring at the car seats overhead.

From outside, a muffled roar rips through the air.

I can’t tell if it’s from Lark or the demons he’s fighting. Because it must be demons. Nothing else could lift this car like that, nothing—

A battle cry—Lark.

I twist myself around until my feet rest against the door closest to Lark’s screams. Pull my legs back as far as I can. Kick the door.

White-hot pain rockets up my shins to my knees. I scream, grit my teeth—and kick again. This time the metal bends beneath Arthur’s strength.

Again.

Again!