The Lighthouse Witches(71)

I

She slides the key back across the front desk and holds Clover’s hand firmly as she heads toward the street.

“Where are we going?” Clover asks.

Luna shushes Clover and keeps her gaze firmly ahead. A man appears in the corner of her eye, a name tag on his shirt indicating that he works at the hotel. She doesn’t stop. They have to head to the car. It’s too dangerous to stay here.

“But I’m starving,” Clover whines once they’re in the car. “Why was there glass in my pie?”

“We’ll find a fast-food place,” Luna says, turning the key in the ignition. In the rearview mirror, rain has transformed the windows into surrealist portraits of the streets. But she can make out a figure getting into a car, the lights flicking on as she pulls out.

“I thought you were taking me to see Mummy,” Clover wails in the back seat behind her. She grows more fractious with each second, kicking Luna’s seat with each word.

Luna tries to keep the car behind her in sight as she pulls out of the car park. She can see the headlights in her rearview mirror moving behind them. She heads quickly onto the coast road, pressing her foot against the accelerator.

The roads shine with rain, the windscreen affording only a staccato glimpse of road before a fresh deluge obscures her vision. Luna’s heart is racing. The road is empty, save her car and the one behind, the two headlights uncomfortably close. She presses a hand against her stomach. She should have called the police when she found the glass, she thinks. Driving was a bad idea. The person behind them seems to be following her.

The only option is to drive faster. Her heart beating in her throat, she accelerates to sixty, eighty miles an hour, desperate to throw off the car behind.

“You’re going too fast!” Clover yells. Luna grips the steering wheel and concentrates on the road ahead. There are small turns ahead, she thinks. A sharp turn might be the only way to lose him.

Clover is screaming in the back seat. At the side of the road ahead, Luna spies the glint of a metal gate leading to a field. A small opening, just big enough for her little car. But the glare of another set of headlights appears on the crest of the hill; she’ll have to pull in front of the other car if she’s to make it. She counts in her head, jerking the car left at the last second. There’s a terrifying moment when the car on the other side of the road is too close, within meters of them, and a horn blares loudly. With a bang, she brings the car to a stop against the grass verge.

There is a horrible stillness from the seat behind her.

Luna rubs her stomach in panicked circles. “Are you OK?” For a terrifying handful of seconds, the baby is still. Then he nudges, as if to say he’s still there.

“Clover?” she says. “Clover, are you all right?”

No reply. Luna can’t turn around far enough to see if she’s OK, so she quickly gets out of the car and steps into the rain, pulling the passenger door open. Clover has been rolled into the passenger footwell, curled up with her face in her knees.

“Clover?”

A whimper lets her know that she’s conscious.

“Are you hurt?”

“I hurt my knee.”

“Let me see.”

She looks over Clover, determining with relief that she’s fine, other than a few bumps from jerking forward. The seat belt caught her.

Suddenly, a bright light shines on them both. Luna turns to see a car heading straight for them, coming to a screeching halt at the side of the road. In seconds, a man has stepped out and is striding toward them.

He’s tall and rakish, with greasy black hair to his jaw, a tattoo of a panther on his neck, a missing front tooth. A grin.

“You’re Luna Stay?”

She frowns, confused by the shift to a smile. “Yes?”

He steps forward and eyes her coldly. “You’re supposed to be dead.”


II

Luna tries to conceal her terror. A stint in juvenile detention taught her this—you show fear, you give away your power.

“Brodie,” she says, reading his name badge. “Do I know you?”

He narrows his eyes. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Very modest of you to think I’m here for you,” she says. “Is that why you put broken glass in my food? So very brave of you.”

He spits on the ground. “Look, I’m not here to start a fight.”

“You could have fooled me,” she says, her nerves jangling. “Or maybe the car chase was meant to kill us outright.”

He steps forward, his hand raised, and she jumps back.

“Back off,” she says loudly. “Or I’ll scream.”

His face softens. “Look, I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

She laughs. It sounds insane. “No?”

He glances behind her. “They know you’re here. I came to warn you.”

She frowns. “Who knows I’m here?”

“All of them. As soon as you boarded that ferry, they were waiting for you.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t think to change your name?”

“What are you talking about?” she hisses. “Who was waiting for me?”

He looks at her up and down. “Are you really Luna? Saffy’s sister?”

The mention of Saffy feels like a slap. “What do you know about Saffy?”