enough to rest his fingers lightly on her knee.
His silent comfort meant more to her than any words could have. He knew that she needed to cry, and he knew that she needed to do so privately. The wind dried her tears, but she knew that the stains of those tears would remain behind.
The caravan wound down the roads toward the house that the Tribe had lived in ever since their arrival in New Orleans. Cara lifted her head, staring in shock at the blue lights flashing across the Garden District. The caravan turned off the road a block before the turn that would have led them to the house.
She shouted into Sebastian’s ear, “What is it? What is going on?”
“I don’t know!” Sebastian shouted back at her, but the words were snatched away by the wind.
Nico took the lead. Cara had no idea where they were going, only that he was telling them what route to take. They didn’t get very far before she began to recognize the streets; they were heading to the warehouse where the Tribe hid a great deal of their bootleg merchandise.
But before they got there, they suddenly turned off again, and Cara felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach: that place was not safe either.
They wound down the streets beyond the warehouse. She had time to look back briefly; cars and news vans surrounded the warehouse. Bright lights were flashing into the windows of the darkened warehouse.
What was going on?
Sebastian had tensed. She could feel his muscles bunching below his clothes and she knew how dangerous that was on the motorcycle. His aura was a dirty muddy color, telling her that he was confused and angry.
He pulled out from the middle of the caravan, dashing to the front. Cara clung to him and her seat. They drew abreast of Nico and Sebastian made a gesture with his hand. Nico nodded and Sebastian took the lead.
The streets of New Orleans never slept, this evening was no exception. Fortunately, large RVs were not an unusual sight. As long as they stayed out of the narrow, congested streets of the French Quarter and the Garden District, they would be okay. Sebastian led them toward the house of the Fallen, but as they approached, Cara felt a pulsing evil emanating from it.
“Don’t stop!” Her thighs tightened around his waist and her fingers dug into his rock hard abdomen.
Sebastian didn’t question her and she knew that he didn’t have to. The windows of the house were shattered, the lawn ripped and shredded, the grass marred by the tracks of heavy vehicles. Whatever was going on, it was widespread.
The night sky hung over them, the silver–white stars pricking the ebony fabric and sending down scant light as Nico once again took the lead, heading down a highway without looking back. They all followed him, Tribe and Fallen alike. There was nothing else to do and nowhere else to go. Whatever it was that Nico had in mind would have to be enough.
Cara watched the trees as they slipped past. The highway markers cast shimmering golden light across the dark ditches on either side of the road. Kudzu hung in long tangled strands from the treetops. On her bare skin and in her nose, the air was chilled and held a salty, fishy tang.
They went past the docks and beyond. The highway was impersonal, heavily laden with traffic. Cara wanted to believe that the traffic would help shield them, keep them safe. But she couldn’t let herself believe it. There was no such thing as safety, not for them.
CHAPTER 4
The cops had come down and they’d come down hard. Every club the Fallen and the Tribe owned had been shut down. DEA agents were crawling all over the houses; all the bank accounts had been closed. They had known that was happening but the scope of it was breathtaking. They had left nothing in their wake.
The cash that Nico had kept in stashes across the city was being unearthed. The people who’d known where the money was hidden had ended up either dead or in jail; it didn’t take long to figure out that the same
His silent comfort meant more to her than any words could have. He knew that she needed to cry, and he knew that she needed to do so privately. The wind dried her tears, but she knew that the stains of those tears would remain behind.
The caravan wound down the roads toward the house that the Tribe had lived in ever since their arrival in New Orleans. Cara lifted her head, staring in shock at the blue lights flashing across the Garden District. The caravan turned off the road a block before the turn that would have led them to the house.
She shouted into Sebastian’s ear, “What is it? What is going on?”
“I don’t know!” Sebastian shouted back at her, but the words were snatched away by the wind.
Nico took the lead. Cara had no idea where they were going, only that he was telling them what route to take. They didn’t get very far before she began to recognize the streets; they were heading to the warehouse where the Tribe hid a great deal of their bootleg merchandise.
But before they got there, they suddenly turned off again, and Cara felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach: that place was not safe either.
They wound down the streets beyond the warehouse. She had time to look back briefly; cars and news vans surrounded the warehouse. Bright lights were flashing into the windows of the darkened warehouse.
What was going on?
Sebastian had tensed. She could feel his muscles bunching below his clothes and she knew how dangerous that was on the motorcycle. His aura was a dirty muddy color, telling her that he was confused and angry.
He pulled out from the middle of the caravan, dashing to the front. Cara clung to him and her seat. They drew abreast of Nico and Sebastian made a gesture with his hand. Nico nodded and Sebastian took the lead.
The streets of New Orleans never slept, this evening was no exception. Fortunately, large RVs were not an unusual sight. As long as they stayed out of the narrow, congested streets of the French Quarter and the Garden District, they would be okay. Sebastian led them toward the house of the Fallen, but as they approached, Cara felt a pulsing evil emanating from it.
“Don’t stop!” Her thighs tightened around his waist and her fingers dug into his rock hard abdomen.
Sebastian didn’t question her and she knew that he didn’t have to. The windows of the house were shattered, the lawn ripped and shredded, the grass marred by the tracks of heavy vehicles. Whatever was going on, it was widespread.
The night sky hung over them, the silver–white stars pricking the ebony fabric and sending down scant light as Nico once again took the lead, heading down a highway without looking back. They all followed him, Tribe and Fallen alike. There was nothing else to do and nowhere else to go. Whatever it was that Nico had in mind would have to be enough.
Cara watched the trees as they slipped past. The highway markers cast shimmering golden light across the dark ditches on either side of the road. Kudzu hung in long tangled strands from the treetops. On her bare skin and in her nose, the air was chilled and held a salty, fishy tang.
They went past the docks and beyond. The highway was impersonal, heavily laden with traffic. Cara wanted to believe that the traffic would help shield them, keep them safe. But she couldn’t let herself believe it. There was no such thing as safety, not for them.
CHAPTER 4
The cops had come down and they’d come down hard. Every club the Fallen and the Tribe owned had been shut down. DEA agents were crawling all over the houses; all the bank accounts had been closed. They had known that was happening but the scope of it was breathtaking. They had left nothing in their wake.
The cash that Nico had kept in stashes across the city was being unearthed. The people who’d known where the money was hidden had ended up either dead or in jail; it didn’t take long to figure out that the same
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