CHAPTER 11

"Engine's hot, Madi. Just like you."

Ethan Harper didn't move from the matte black fender of the supercar. He just stood there, arms crossed over his chest, the heavy muscles of his biceps straining against the dark wool of his coat. His eyes didn't stay on her face. They traveled. They traced the silver line of her neck, dropped to the swell of her chest beneath the tight racing leather, and lingered on the curve of her hip.

Madison didn't give him the satisfaction of a blush. She didn't even look at him. She reached for the door handle of the Lykan Hypersport, the carbon fiber cool against her sweating palms.

"Check the tire pressure and shut up, Ethan," she snapped. Her voice was a low, jagged rasp. The wind on the Devil’s Hairpin was a physical weight now, biting through her gear, smelling of burnt rubber and ancient slate.

"Ouch. Feisty." Ethan straightened up, his height blocking out the flickering neon of the starting line. He stepped into her personal space, the scent of sandalwood and raw masculinity drowning out the gasoline fumes. He leaned down, his mouth inches from her ear. "You drive like you fight, and we’re going to have a very long night when this is over."

"If I wanted a cheerleader, I'd hire a professional," Madison muttered. She slid into the cockpit. The seat molded to her spine, a tight, claustrophobic embrace. She flicked the ignition toggle. The engine behind her head didn't just roar; it barked, a guttural, predatory sound that vibrated through her teeth.

Austin’s tuned Mustang pulled up beside her. He revved the engine, the sound tinny and desperate compared to the Lykan. He glared through the tinted glass, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Behind him, the starting girl raised a checkered flag.

Crack.

The flag dropped.

Madison’s head snapped back against the rest as the Hypersport launched. The world turned into a vertical blur of gray and black. Zero to sixty in under three seconds. The G-force pressed the air out of her lungs.

Austin was a frantic shadow in her peripheral vision. He wasn't racing for the line; he was racing for blood. As they hit the first hairpin turn—a narrow shelf of road hanging over a five hundred foot drop—he swung his steering wheel hard to the left.

The Mustang slammed into Madison’s passenger side.

Creeeeeak.

The sound of metal screaming against metal filled the cabin. Madison’s tires skidded toward the edge. Gravel sprayed into the abyss, the stones clicking against the underside of the car like rain.

"What the fuck, Austin!" she hissed.

She didn't slam the brakes. She didn't panic. Her pulse slowed, the adrenaline hitting her system and dilating her pupils until the world outside the windshield seemed to crawl. This was the wolf. The Celestial blood in her veins processed the visual data faster than any human computer. She saw the minute vibrations in Austin’s front tire. She saw the way his car leaned, the weight distribution off-balance.

He lunged again, his face a mask of sweating, jagged jealousy through the glass. He wanted her off the mountain. He wanted her dead so he wouldn't have to look at the queen he’d traded for a spy.

Madison didn't fight the shove. She leaned into it.

She waited until the rear of his Mustang clipped her fender. Then, she pulled the e-brake and flicked the wheel. The Lykan danced. It spun on a dime, the rear end swinging out until her back tires were hanging an inch over the empty air. Time slowed to a heartbeat. She saw the dust motes in the headlights. She saw the terror in Austin’s eyes as he realized she wasn't falling.

She slammed the gear into second and floored it. The car gripped the asphalt, snapping back onto the road with a violence that made her neck pop.

Austin zoomed past her, his Mustang fishtailing as he tried to regain control. He was headed straight for the long straightaway leading to the summit.

"Go on, Austin," she whispered, her eyes glowing a lethal, steady silver. "Run."

Something caught her eye. Underneath Austin’s chassis, a small, blinking red light pulsed against the dark metal. It wasn't a mechanical fault. It was a detonator.

Madison’s foot hovered over the gas, but she didn't push. She stayed back. She watched the Mustang’s exhaust flare.

"The locket..." she muttered.

She checked the rearview. Ethan was following in his own car, but he was keeping a wide berth. He knew.

Madison slammed her foot on the brakes. The Lykan’s tires shrieked, smoking as they bit into the road. She stopped a hundred yards back.

Austin reached the crest of the hill. He looked back through his mirror, a triumphant, ugly grin spreading across his face. He thought he’d won. He thought he was the Alpha.

A muffled pop echoed from beneath his car.

The Mustang didn't just crash. It disintegrated. A pillar of orange and black fire erupted from the engine bay, fueled by the racing high-octane. The car turned into a fireball, hurtling through the air like a dying star before it cleared the guardrail and vanished into the black mouth of the canyon.

Madison sat in the idling Lykan, the heat of the explosion washing over the windshield.

"Vanessa," she whispered.

Gregory’s wife hadn't been trying to help her son. She’d been cleaning house. The insurance money for a 'tragic racing accident' was worth more than a failure of a son who couldn't keep his pack together.

The silence on the mountain was absolute, broken only by the crackle of burning brush.

Madison unbuckled her harness. Her hands were steady. She stepped out into the cold night air just as Ethan’s car pulled up behind her. He got out, his face unreadable, his eyes fixed on the smoke rising from the abyss.

"He's gone," Ethan said.

"He was gone a long time ago," Madison replied. She turned to him, the silver light in her eyes fading into a hard, cold blue. "Vanessa just did the paperwork."

She walked toward the edge of the cliff, looking down at the flickering orange glow far below. The locket was gone. The past was cinders.

"Check the coordinates again, Ethan," she said, her voice like ice. "Because I’m not waiting for the Council anymore. I’m going to Vanessa’s front door tonight."