Scorched Ice (Fire and Ice #3)(54)

“Then what would he be doing at the track?” Luther asked.

Julian frowned as he stared at the strip of road they drove down. “I think he was killing time.”

“Until what?” Dani inquired.

“This place we’re trying to find, it’s also used as a meeting place for The Commission. Maybe Herb arrived early a couple of times and decided to watch the races.”

“Or maybe he liked watching the horses and came early on purpose,” Quinn suggested.

“I think he did like watching them,” Julian murmured.

“Are we stopping at the track?” Luther asked as they approached the entrance for it.

“No, keep going. That was Herb’s own private thing. The Commission is something else entirely.”

Dani walked down to perch precariously on the end of the couch as Chris released a loud snore, muttered something, and rolled over.

Julian returned to stand beside Quinn and handed her his phone. “Can you tell them where to go while I try to figure it out?”

“Yes.” She took the phone from him and typed in directions to the large group message while he guided them onward.

When she finally lifted her head from the phone again, blackness and jagged rock formations surrounded them as the RV made a steady ascent through the night. The headlights bouncing over the asphalt revealed the smooth road twisting throughout the mountain passageway before them. The unsettling sensation that the rest of the world had ceased to exist descended over her as the only sound was Chris’s occasional snore and the hum of the tires on the road.

No other cars came toward them, and she refused to look too closely at the side of the road as she was pretty sure it fell away into nothing. The metal guardrail gleamed in the headlights; its yellow reflectors appeared every few feet. She seriously doubted the rail’s ability to keep the RV from plummeting over the edge if Luther ever lost control of the lumbering vehicle. She may be immortal, but the prospect of smashing off of rocks all the way to the bottom of the mountain was as pleasing to her as having her fingernails ripped out. She’d actually rather have her fingernails ripped out.

She saw no lights following behind them in the mirrors of the RV, but the road was winding…

Rising to her feet, she kept Julian’s phone in hand as she walked to the back of the RV. She knelt on the bed there to pull the curtain aside. Blackness swallowed the road behind the vehicle. The red taillights barely pierced the dark as the RV made its way forward. The hair on her nape rose, and a tremor went through her fingers.

Had the vampires abandoned them? Had they set them up to go forward to their deaths at the hands of The Commission?

Many of the vamps believed in the prophecy, in her. She’d seen that in the awe on their faces when she’d shown them what she could do, but that didn’t mean they were willing to fight and die for her. In many ways, death was more frightening for an immortal than a mortal. After so long a life, and many of those lives entailing brutal acts, few immortals believed they would be received by clouds and angels when they met their end. She certainly didn’t expect to be welcomed into heaven, if there was one.

She really hoped the vamps were back there somewhere, following her directions instead of sitting at the track placing bets and drinking beers. This was supposed to be a beginning and an end. The beginning of a new and stronger relationship between vampires, Hunters, and Guardians. The end of an enemy she’d never encountered before Herb and his Hunter, but an enemy that she’d feared since birth.

If the vampires abandoned them tonight, and they somehow managed to survive going after The Commission, she knew Julian would ruthlessly hunt down and slaughter every vampire who had betrayed them.

“What is it?” She turned to find Julian standing in the doorway, watching her.

“It’s like we’re all alone up here,” she whispered.

“Like it’s the end of the world and we’re the only ones left?”

“Yes.”

“They’re back there,” he said.

“How do you know?”

“Because they know it will mean their deaths if they’re not.”

Quinn gulped. “Julian…” Her voice trailed off when his arctic eyes landed on her.

Then his gaze went beyond her. She turned to watch as a dim splash of light illuminated the road behind them a second before the RV slid around another curve. Julian’s phone vibrated in her hand, and she glanced down at it.

“What does it say?” he inquired.

“Behind you. It’s from Vern.”

“Good.” Julian turned away from her and made his way back to the front of the RV.

Quinn leaned against the wall. If she’d still been human, she’d be taking deep breaths in order to calm herself. Now all she could do was tell herself over and over again that it would be okay. They would get through this. She wasn’t sure she believed it though.

***

Julian directed Luther off of the twisting mountain road and onto another road that cut a pathway up the mountain. Sparks shot from the passenger side mirror when the RV scraped against the rock walls surrounding them.

“The Commission wouldn’t set this up as a one way in and out,” Luther murmured.

“No, they wouldn’t,” Julian agreed. “The Commission may be the most vicious bastards I’ve ever come across, and from me, that’s saying a lot, but they’re also some of the most cunning.”