A black Range Rover was keeping pace with them, just a few cars back.
Jenna's heart squeezed.
Brock. It had to be him.
But at the same moment, she hoped like hell it wasn't. It couldn't be--
he would be foolish to risk it. The sun was still a giant ball of fire in the cold westerly sky, at least two hours from setting. Driving in full daylight would be suicide for one of Brock's kind.
And yet, it was him.
When the sedan made another sidelong shift in the lane, Jenna checked the mirror again and saw the rigid set of his jaw across the traffic and distance that separated them. Although he wore dark wraparound sunglasses to protect his eyes, the opaque lenses weren't dense enough to mask the ember-bright glow of his eyes.
Brock was behind them, and he was deadly furious.
"Son of a bitch," Green muttered, peering over her head to look through the rear window of the vehicle. "We've got a tail."
"You sure?" Cho asked, taking the opportunity to pass another car as they neared the other end of the bridge.
"I'm sure," Green replied. A note of unease had crept into his otherwise unreadable face. "It's a vampire. One of the warriors."
Cho gunned the vehicle now. "Inform Master that we're almost to the location. Ask him how we should proceed."
Green nodded, and, still holding Jenna under the threat of his Glock, he retrieved a cell phone from his pocket and pressed a single digit. The call rang once over the speaker, then Dragos's voice came on the line.
"Status?"
"We're nearing the Brooklyn cargo docks, Master, as you instructed.
But we're not alone." Green spoke in a rush of words, as though he sensed the displeasure that would follow. "There's someone following us on the bridge. He is Breed. A warrior from the Order."
Jenna took no small amount of satisfaction at the violent curse that exploded over the cell phone speaker. As chilled as she was to hear the voice of the Order's hated enemy, it was gratifying to know that he feared the warriors. As well he should.
"Lose him," Dragos growled, pure venom.
"He's right behind us," Cho said, glancing nervously in the rearview mirror as they sped along a road that followed the waterfront toward an industrial area. "He's only one car behind us now and gaining. I don't think we can shake him at this point."
Another snarled oath from Dragos, more savage than before. "All right," he said in a low, even tone. "Then abort. Kill the bitch and get out of there. Dump her corpse off the docks or into the street, I could give a f**k.
But don't let that goddamn vampire get near either one of you. Understood?"
Green and Cho exchanged a brief look of acknowledgment. "Yes, Master," Green replied, ending the call.
Cho steered into a sharp left turn off the road and into a parking lot at the water. Large freight trailers and assorted box trucks dotted the ice-spotted, cracked pavement. And nearer to the river's edge were several warehouse buildings, which is where Cho seemed to be heading at breakneck speed.
Green leveled the gun on her, until she was staring down the barrel at the chambered bullet that would soon be unloaded into her head. She felt a surge of power flow into her veins--something far more intense than adrenaline--as the moment began to play out in slow motion.
Green's finger tightened on the trigger. There was a soft scrape of responding steel, mechanisms in the firearm clicking into action as though in the thick fog of a dream.
Jenna heard the bullet begin to explode from the chamber. She smelled the sharp tang of gunpowder and smoke. And she saw the quiver of energy rippling in the air as the weapon fired on her.
She ducked out of its way. She didn't know how she managed it, nor how it was possible for her to know just how to dodge the bullet as Green sent it blasting toward her. She knew only to listen to her instincts, preternatural as they seemed.
She came up behind Green's seat and wrenched his arm, snapping the bone in her bare hands. He screamed in agony. The gun went off again, this time a flailing, wild shot.
It struck Cho in the side of his skull, killing him instantly.
The sedan veered and rocked, accelerating with the dead weight of Cho's foot resting on the gas. They hit the corner of a rusted freight container, knocking the Crown Vic into a vicious sideways roll across the snow and ice.
Jenna hit the roof of the car as it flipped ass over teakettle, windows shattering, airbags deploying. Her whole world tumbled violently, over and over, before finally coming to a jarring halt upside down on the pavement.
Holy bloody hell.
Brock pulled in to the industrial lot and slammed on the brakes, watching with a mix of horror and rage as the Crown Victoria hit the side of a cargo trailer and pitched into a steel-crushing roll on the frozen pavement.
"Jenna!" he shouted, throwing the Rover into park and vaulting out the door.
The daylight had been a bitch to deal with inside the vehicle; outside it was beyond hellish. He could hardly see through the haze of blinding white light as he raced across ice and cracked asphalt to the overturned sedan. The car's wheels were still spinning, the engine whining, spewing smoke and steam into the frigid air.
As he neared, he heard Jenna grunting, struggling inside. Brock's first instinct was to grab hold of the vehicle and right it, but he couldn't be sure if flipping the car would cause more harm to her, and it was a chance he wasn't willing to take.
"Jenna, I'm here," he said, then reached out and tore the upside-down driver's-side door clean off its hinges. He tossed it to the ground and dropped to his haunches to look into the crushed interior.
Ah, Christ.
Blood and gore were everywhere, the stench of dead red cells combining with the sharp fumes of leaking oil and gasoline to pierce through the sun-scorched fog of his senses. He looked past the corpse of the driver, whose head was blown open by a close-range gunshot wound. All of Brock's focus was trained on Jenna.