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causing her pain, or becoming an undead and causing her a pain of another kind. Does Ivy know? I
asked. About the auras?
He nodded, his eyes lighting briefly upon my stitches. Of course.
Peter, this is& is I said, bewildered. Why are you hiding this from everyone?
He ran a hand over his face, the angry gesture so reminiscent of Nick that it shocked me. Would you
have let Ivy take your blood if you knew she was taking your aura, the light from your soul? he asked
suddenly, his eyes fixing on mine vehemently.
I glanced from the road, blurting, Yes. Yes, I would have. Peter, it s beautiful. It brings something right
to it.
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His expression went from anger to surprise, and he said, Ivy is a very lucky woman.
Feeling my chest clench, I blinked rapidly. I wouldn t cry. I was frustrated and confused. I was going to
kill Peter in less than three miles. I was on a train I couldn t stop. I didn t need to cry, I needed to
understand.
Not everyone sees it like that, he said, the shadows of the passing girders falling on him. You re truly
odd, Rachel Morgan. I don t understand you at all. I wish I had time to. Maybe after I m dead. I ll take
you dancing and we can talk. I promise I won t bite you.
I can t do this. I m turning the lights on. Jaw clenched, I leaned to reach the knob. He wasn t done yet.
There was more for him to learn. More he could tell me before he dropped his thread of consciousness
forever.
Peter didn t move as I pulled the knob. I leaned into the seat, my face going cold when the dash
remained dark. I pushed the knob in and pulled it back out. They aren t working, I said as a car
passed us. I pushed it in and tried again. Why aren t they working, damn it!
I asked Jenks to disengage them.
Son of a bitch! I shouted, hitting the dash and hurting my hand through the pain amulet. That damn
son of a bitch! Tears started leaking out, and I twisted in the seat, desperate to stop this.
Peter took my shoulder, pinching me. Rachel! he exclaimed, his guilt-ridden expression looking at me
from Nick s face tearing at me. Please, he begged. I wanted to end it this way because it would help
someone. I m hoping that because I m helping you, God will take me even without my soul.
Please don t stop.
I was crying now. I couldn t help it. I kept my foot on the accelerator, maintaining that same fifteen feet
between me and the next car. He wanted to die, and I was going to help him whether I agreed with it or
not. It doesn t work that way, Peter, I said, my voice high. They did a study on it. Without the mind to
chaperone it, the soul has nothing to hold it together and it falls apart. Peter, there will be nothing left. It
will be as if you never existed
He looked down the road. His face paled in the amber glow. Oh God. There he is.
I took a breath, holding it. Peter, I said, desperate. I couldn t turn back. I couldn t slow down. I had
to do this. The shadows from the girders seemed to flash faster. Peter!
I m scared.
I looked over the cars to the white truck heading for us. I could see Nick, Peter s doppelganger disguise
gone and the legal one in place. Hand fumbling, I found Peter s. It was damp with sweat, and he clutched
it with the strength of a frightened child. I ll be here, I said, breathless and unable to look from the
looming truck.What was I doing?
Please don t let me burn when the tanks explode? Please, Rachel?
My head hurt. I couldn t breathe. I won t let you burn, I said, tears making my face cold. I ll stay
with you, Peter. I promise. I ll hold your hand. I ll stay until you go, I ll be there when you leave so you
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won t be forgotten. I was babbling. I didn t care. I won t forget you, Peter. I ll remember you.
Tell Audrey that I love her, even if I don t remember why.
The last car between us was gone. I took a breath and held it. My eyes were fixed on the truck s tires.
They shifted. Peter!
It happened fast.
The truck veered across the temporary line. My feet slammed into the breaks, self-preservation taking
control. I stiffened my arm, clenching the wheel and Peter s hand both.
Nick s truck swerved. It loomed before us, the flat panel of the side taking up the entire world. He was
trying to get entirely across the lane and miss me. I spun the wheel, teeth gritted and terrified. He was
trying to miss me. He was trying to hit the passenger side only.
The truck smashed into us like a wrecking ball. My head jerked forward, and I gasped before the
inertia-dampening curse took hold. I couldn t breathe as the air bag hit my face like a wet pillow, hurting.
Relief filled me, then guilt that I was safe while Peter.Oh God, Peter&
Heart pounding, I felt as if I was wrapped in muzzy cotton. I couldn t move. I couldn t see. But I could
hear. The sound of squealing tires was swallowed by the terrifying shriek of twisting metal. I managed a
breath, a ragged gasp in my throat. My stomach lurched, and the world spun as the momentum swung us
around.
Pushing at the oil-scented plastic, I forced it away. We were still spinning, and terror shocked through
me as the Mack truck plowed into the temporary guardrail and into the empty northbound lanes. Our
vehicle shook as we hit something and came to a spine-wrenching halt.
I pushed the bag down, fighting it, shaking, blinking in the sound of nothing. It was smeared with red,
and I looked at my hands. They were red. I was bleeding. Blood slicked them where my nails had cut
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