“Not much of a stretch,” she muttered, throwing him a dirty look.
His lips twitched. Again. For what seemed like the thousandth time.
About to boil over, Cate lowered the temperature on her temper. Maiming him would only add to her problems… and piss him off. And an angry Shadow Walker on top of worrying about Rannock was more than she could handle right now.
Tossing the rag onto the metal cart, she asked, “Got the keys?”
Dillinger blinked. “It’s fixed?”
“Pretty much.” She shrugged, acting nonchalant, feeing about ready to explode. Fingers crossed the Chevy cooperated and decided to turn over. The sooner she finished, the quicker Dillinger would keep his word and take the explosive out of her head. “A few minor adjustments, maybe, but she should run now.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“For real?”
She scowled at him.
“Okay,” he murmured, tone full skepticism. Here one second, gone the next. Eagerness pushed doubt out the way, lighting up his features. A weird shimmer entered his eyes. His I’m-too-cool-for-you slouch disappeared as his shoulder popped off the side of the column. He yanked the keys out of his pocket. “You wanna—”
“Your truck, your key to turn. Fire her up,” she said, trying not to laugh at his expression. But man, it was hard. He looked like a kid at Christmas, all but dancing as he waited to find out what Santa had brought him during the night. “Let’s see how she sparks.”
Cloudflyer runners squeaking against polished concrete, Dillinger palmed the door handle. The lock popped. Freshly greased hinges opened on a soundless swing. A spring in his step, he hopped into the cab. She lost sight of him behind the raised hood, but heard him crank the window down. The ignition clicked. He hesitated, then turned the key.
The big V-8 caught.
A low growl filled the garage.
Dillinger laughed. “Brilliant, Cate! Absolutely brilliant.”
She smiled, pleasure streaming through her. He said brilliant. She thought perfect. And it was. Absolute, pure, unadulterated happiness. No question about it. Nothing made satisfaction hum through her more than watching a beautiful, previously undrivable truck become road-worthy.
“Give it some gas,” she yelled, watching the engine shimmy.
The smell of exhaust fumes in the air, Dillinger revved the engine.
Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head and listened. Gorgeous snarl. Perfect timing. Just the right pitch. Clearing away the tools, cage light, and fender pads, she unhooked the lift bar and lowered the hood. Fingers holding the edge, she hesitated a second, then let the heavy piece of steel go.
The latch caught. The hood settled back into place. Dillinger grinned at her through the windshield.
Sharing his elation, she gave him two thumbs up. “You should take her for a drive.”
He nodded, then cut the engine. Quiet returned to the garage. “I’ll take it for a spin later. But first…”
Cate tensed as he opened the door and exited the cab.
Green eyes boring into hers, he flicked his wrist. The driver’s-side door slammed closed. “A deal’s a deal.”
“Ah.” Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Cate watched him approach. She backed up a step, then another. Her joy at getting the old truck running died a quick death. Unease replaced it as Dillinger rounded the front bumper. Cate retreated to the other side of the truck. She wanted the pod out of her head, no question, but…
All of a sudden, having Dillinger get close enough to touch her seemed like a terrible idea. One that might end with her in a coma. Or worse—dead.
Shuffling backward, Cate swallowed. “I think maybe we should wait for Rannock.”
His brows popped skyward. “Don’t trust me?”
“If you were me, would you trust you?”
He snorted.
“Seriously, Dillinger—would you?”
“Not gonna hurt you, woman,” he said, deep voice full of impatience. Or hurt. She couldn’t tell which. “We made a deal. The truck’s running. You want the pod out of your head. Fair exchange, so just relax and—”
He jolted as his body seized. Air exited his lungs on a rasp. A second later, his knees hit the concrete floor.
Surprise tightened her chest. Cate froze beside the truck.
“Fuck,” he growled as though in terrible pain. “The TriHexe. It’s close, and I’m… I’m… Shit.”
“What is it?” Watching him twitch, not knowing what to do, she took a step toward him. “What’s wrong?”
Head bowed, one hand planted on the floor, the other quaking, he shook his head. “Cate, you need to… You’ve gotta—”
“What?”
“Get away from me.”
A low snarl left his throat as he raised his head. Glowing green eyes collided with hers. His body contorted. Bones snapped. He groaned as he started changing into something monstrous. He looked like an enormous lion with gold-and-black fur… at first. But as he sprouted wings, then grew antlers and razor-sharp claws, Cate reconsidered. Dillinger wasn’t turning into a lion, but an amalgamation of several different animals.
“Dillinger?”
The tip of the monster’s tail swung around to face her. Fur morphed into scales as a huge snake head grew from the end.
On the floor, writhing in pain, Dillinger flashed blood-red fangs at her. “Run!”
Frozen in place, Cate flinched.
He roared at her again.
Her feet came unglued.
Boot soles sliding against smooth concrete, she lunged toward the rear of the truck, then sprinted behind a row of parked cars. Lungs pumping, she sped toward the stairs as her mind rejected the situation. Everything about it felt unreal. She was in a regular garage, surrounded by beautiful cars. Part of a normal, everyday scene. Nothing out of place—except for the Shadow Walker turning into a monster behind her.
Running flat out, she glanced back.
Slit eyes riveted to her, the snake hissed. Saliva dripped from long, needle-like fangs, splattering onto the floor.
Adrenaline hit her like rocket fuel.
Terror did the rest, propelling her around the last car in the row.
Heart hammering, arms and legs pumping, Cate focused on the stairs. She needed to make up the first flight, onto the landing, then around the corner where the stairwell narrowed. The tight stretch of staircase might buy her more time, the added seconds necessary for her to reach the upper hallway and scream for help.
She heard the creature’s claw scrape across concrete and chanced another look back.
God help her. The monster was on its feet. Huge antlers swung around as it snapped its head toward her. The thing bared its fangs, unfolding black-and-gold wings.
A snarl rippled across the garage.
Air rasped against the back of her throat.
She wasn’t going to make it. Forget about a future with Rannock. Never mind Scotland and building a new life far from the turmoil her father left in his wake.
As the monster took flight, Cate knew her fate was sealed. The certainty of it set. No more deals could be struck. Instinct told her the thing breathing down her neck wouldn’t play let’s-make-a-deal. Dillinger was gone, and she was about to be eaten alive.
21