Riders (Riders, #1)(60)

I launched myself and crashed into a stack of boxes. Daryn hit the gas, and Marcus and I went toppling to the back as we peeled out of there.

Burning, but alive.





CHAPTER 36

As we sped away from that cargo plane, I wanted to find a hangar where we could hide out and wait until Sebastian and Shadow turned up. There was no way that was going to happen, though.

The side of the van was still on fire. It was night. We were impossible to miss.

We had no choice but to keep going.

I didn’t see Samrael or any of the other Kindred chasing us, but we’d picked up human law enforcement. Two Italian cop cars. Daryn lost one with her insane driving skills. We lost the other pulling onto the autostrada when it made a sudden turn that took it squirreling off the road.

Marcus was in the back, watching the car through the rear windows. He sat down, slumping against the door. When I saw his stunned face, I knew he’d used his ability. He’d hit whoever had been behind the wheel with a massive dose of fear, causing the driver to panic and jerk the wheel.

“Where was that three minutes ago?” I yelled.

“I tried!”

“You used it on the Kindred?”

“That’s what I said, man. I tried, but it didn’t work.”

“Shit.” I fell back against my seat.

“You think they got Sebastian?” Marcus asked after a moment. “I didn’t see what happened to him.”

I said nothing. I was too pissed to respond. Bas was gone. And our abilities didn’t even work on the enemy. What use were they? The only good news at the moment was that the fire on the van had almost burned out.

“Gideon,” Daryn said. “Bas got away. It was chaos back there, but I’m almost sure he did. We’ll get Conquest, and then we’ll come back and find him.”

I pulled my radio out of my backpack, my fingers fumbling on the device. I couldn’t believe we’d just left him. The blood roared in my ears and my face felt like it’d been torched. “Where are we going, Daryn? Where’s Conquest?”

“Vatican City.”

No surprise there. “It’s ten p.m. local time. Are we supposed to go there now?”

She looked at me.

“Daryn. Are we supposed to go now?”

“Yes. As soon as possible.”

“Because our buddy, Samrael, is probably headed there too, right? Why is it they’re always two steps ahead of us? What is it you aren’t saying? It’s like you’re trying to make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Marcus said.

I should have controlled the situation. That’s what was wrong with me. We’d lost Sebastian, Marcus had been shot, and I’d taken a mental beating again because I hadn’t organized and controlled the situation. I had the most training. I should’ve marshaled them into order. I should’ve established a rally point in case we got separated. But I hadn’t done any of that and now we were down a horseman.

I’d grown used to getting signals from the cuff, telling me whenever Sebastian or Marcus were in the same vicinity. Now with Sebastian missing, I actually felt him missing. All I sensed was Marcus. Not good.

I pulled up the directions to Vatican City on my radio’s GPS, handed it to Daryn, and climbed into the back. “Let me see your wound.”

Marcus looked at me like he was doing me a favor, then pulled his sweatshirt off and yanked up his shirt.

Death had won the lottery in terms of gunshot wounds. The round had gone through his deltoid, cutting clean through muscle tissue. I saw an entry and exit point, and it wasn’t bleeding too much anymore. I pulled the first-aid kit out of my backpack and sprayed the wound with antiseptic, then taped it up. “Keep pressure on it.”

Marcus pulled his shirt down and settled against the back of the van again. I stared into his ungrateful eyes, debating opening the back doors and tossing him out. He was disrespectful, negative, contrary, selfish. Everything I hated.

I moved back to the passenger seat and tried to figure out where Sebastian would have gone. The Pantheon? The Spanish Steps? Would he be at the Vatican? Or would the Kindred get to him first?

“Gideon, you need to calm down,” Daryn said.

I was trying. I wanted to hit something and I hadn’t yet. I felt good about that.

Using the GPS, I guided her through the streets to a church—a huge Gothic structure decorated with spires and angelic statues—and it hit me, finally, where I was. I’d always expected that my first time off US soil would come during my first deployment, but here I was. Italy.

“This isn’t the Vatican,” Daryn said.

“We’re ditching the van.”

We grabbed our packs and swapped the van for a dumpy-looking Fiat. I broke a window, pried up the plastic under the steering wheel with my bowie knife, and twisted some wires together. Off we went. If our mission depended on lifting cars, we’d have had it made.

Thirty minutes later, I parked on Via della Conciliazione directly across the street from Saint Peter’s Square. I knew from the travel guide that the Vatican enclave was enclosed by a stone wall, and this would be our best entry point. Just ahead of us I saw the famous obelisk at the center of the expansive paved piazza. At the far end, I could see the Basilica of Saint Peter, the row of marble sculpted saints illuminated across the top. It was an impressive place, steeped in history and art, with an air of sacredness you could feel on your skin. I focused on the security.