Theo pulled to the curb.

“Keep an eye out,” I told Theo.

He nodded, and we climbed out and closed the doors.

Something felt just slightly off, like a painting hung just off center. It took me a moment to figure out why. Lights were on in a few of the buildings, but there were no voices, no sounds from screens showing late-night shows. There were no vehicles, no barking dogs, no traffic noise. Only dead silence.

“It’s too fucking quiet,” Theo murmured.

“There’s magic in the air. And not the Disney kind.”

He looked at me. “Can you tell the source?”

I shook my head. I’d never met a sympath and didn’t know what their inherent magic felt like. “I don’t think it’s manipulation, though.”

I turned my attention back to the woman. There was no mistaking the real and deep-set misery in her eyes, or the shadows beneath them, but the unease increased as we walked toward her.

“Rose?” Theo asked.

“Yeah.” She looked at each of us nervously. “You’re Theo and Elisa?”

“We are.” He pulled out his badge, offered it.

She nodded. “Roger said you’d be coming.” A car revved its engine somewhere behind us. “We need to get going. They’re probably driving around and looking for me.” But her voice didn’t waver. She sounded like a woman who’d faced hardship before. Possibly while grifting the vulnerable, I reminded myself.

I opened the back passenger door. “Their vehicle?” I asked.

“Red sport sedan,” she said, climbing in. “It’s fast. They stole it from a parking lot in the city.”

I gave the dark street one more look before closing her door and climbing into the front passenger seat.

Theo started the car, locked the doors, and we took off.

First thing, I sent a message to Roger, letting him know we’d picked up Rose and were headed back to Chicago, and there hadn’t been any issues. And apparently jinxed us, as an engine roared behind us less than a minute later.

I checked the side mirror. The vehicle wasn’t red, but it was a sport sedan. Bright purple with running board lights in the same color. Flashy for criminals.

Theo steadily accelerated, testing them. They kept pace and, in their glowing car, moved closer.

“Rose,” Theo said. “Do you recognize the car behind us?”

She turned back, the movement nervous and jerky, and swore. “That’s Pratt’s car.” She swore again, turned back. “I didn’t think they’d followed me to the bus stop.”

“They didn’t,” Theo said, gaze flicking between the rearview mirror and back window. “They pulled out after that last intersection. They’d been waiting.”

“Someone signaled them?”

“That would be my guess. This is probably the second team.” His voice was careful, controlled, but his hands tightened on the wheel.

Rose turned around again, looked at us imploringly. “Whatever happens, don’t stop. If you stop, they’ll kill all of us.”

“I don’t plan on stopping,” Theo said. “They won’t put another mark on you.”

While he drove and comforted, I leaned the screen out the window to get a photo of the vehicle and its plate, and sent a message to Roger: vehicle in pursuit.