I don’t know how long we sit like this, but when I glance across the limo aisle, I see Nora’s parents watching us strangely. Gabriela, especially, seems fascinated. I frown at them and position Nora more comfortably at my side. I don’t like that they’re witnessing this. I don’t want them to know how much I depend on my pet, how desperately I need her.

At my glare, they both look away, and I resume stroking Nora’s hair as we get off the interstate onto a two-lane highway.

“How much longer until we get there?” Nora’s father asks a couple of minutes later. “We’re going to a private airport, right?”

“Right,” I confirm. “We’re not too far now, I believe. There’s no traffic, so we’ll be there in about twenty minutes. One of my men has gone ahead to prepare the plane, so as soon as we get there, we’ll be able to take off.”

“And we can depart like this? Without going through customs?” Nora’s mother asks. She still seems to be unusually interested in the way I’m embracing Nora. “Nobody will prevent us from re-entering the country or anything?”

“No,” I say. “I have a special arrangement with—” Before I can finish explaining, the car picks up speed. The acceleration is so sharp and sudden that I barely manage to remain upright and hold on to Nora, who gasps and clutches at my waist. Her parents aren’t so lucky; they fall onto their sides, nearly flying off the long limo seat.

The panel separating us from the driver rolls down, revealing Lucas’s grim face in the rearview mirror.

“We have a tail,” he says tersely. “They’re onto us, and they’re coming with everything they’ve got.”

33

Nora

My heart stops beating for a second; then adrenaline explodes in my veins.

Before I have a chance to react, Julian is already in motion. Unbuckling my seatbelt, he grabs my arm and drags me off the seat onto the limo floor.

“Stay there,” he barks, and I watch in shock as he lifts the seat, revealing an enormous stash of weapons.

“What—” my mom gasps, but at that moment, the limo swerves, knocking me against the side of the stuffed leather seat. My parents cry out, clutching desperately at each other, and Julian grabs the edge of the raised seat to prevent himself from falling.

And then I hear it.

The rat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire.

Somebody is shooting at us.

“Gabriela!” My dad’s face is stark white. “Hold on to me!”

The limo swerves again, causing my mom to let out a frightened scream. Somehow Julian remains upright, bending over the stash as the limo accelerates even more. From my position on the floor, all I can see through the windows are the tree tops flashing by. We must be flying down this highway at breakneck speed.

Another burst of gunfire, and the trees flash by faster, the greenery blurring in my vision. I can hear the drumming of my pulse; it almost drowns out the squeal of tires in the distance.