Page 148 of Coveted

As the car glides through town, packs of masked teenagers chase each other in the street and set off fireworks. Cormac jerks the steering wheel hard to avoid one. The sedan hits the curb with a sickening crunch and two bangs, bringing us to a sharp stop.

The teens scatter like ants, whooping and cheering and leaving behind drifts of pungent smoke.

We climb from the car to survey the damage. Cormac circles the vehicle once, then crouches to look underneath.

“Two blown tires.” He grimaces. “And the suspension took a hit. I’ve got one tire in the back, but we’re not going anywhere without a second.”

I point up the street. “There’s a garage over here.”

Thanks to my avid watching of Sadie for the better part of a year, I know her town like the back of my hand.

“They’ll be closed though,” says Cormac. “It’s near midnight.”

“The garage is old-style, attached to a house. I’d bet the mechanic’s upstairs.”

“Ah,” says the driver, understanding my meaning.

I carry cash for situations like this.

“How much should I offer, do you think?” I ask Cormac, who has a better grasp on everyday economics than I do.

He shifts his weight between his feet. “Er⁠—”

I squint. “Thirty grand?”

He gives a small cough. “That’ll do it, sir.”

After I fetch some bundles from a compartment in the back of the car, we walk to the garage.

Ten minutes later, the bleary-eyed mechanic is cheerily raising the sedan to look at the damage.

“Yeah.” He scratches his disheveled hair. “I can replace the tires, no problem, and I’ll patch up your suspension. It’ll get you to Ember Falls for tonight, but I wouldn’t push it.”

“How long do you need?” I ask.

“Give me half an hour and you’ll be on your way.” He points his thumb at the house. “Want me to wake my wife to make some coffee?”

“No. And thank you for doing this.”

“Ain’t like we’ve slept much anyway.” The mechanic chuckles. “Halloween’s not the restful type of night, you know?”

“I do.”

Cormac pulls up a seat in the garage while I head into the backyard, unable to relax.

I’ve felt off all day, wired and tense. I try to convince myself that it’s just the usual strange Halloween atmosphere, but my damn subconscious mind won’t stop nagging at me that something’s wrong.

With superhuman self-control, I resist the urge to pass the time by checking on Sadie’s whereabouts with the tracking app.

I’ve no reason to do it. None at all.

Madox messaged me from a satellite phone at the mansion to say she was fine. He also said she was sad, which cuts up my heart, but she’s perfectly unharmed.

I distract myself by pacing instead.

The mechanic’s backyard is more like a graveyard, except for cars. They’re packed in like sardines. Some are newer, missing panels or seats, while others are rusted skeletons with long grass growing through their bones.

The air smells like pine sap and cold earth. Ravens startle suddenly from trees, taking off into the cloudy sky with melancholy caws. The sound does nothing for my jagged nerves.