Tires squealed. They pulled out. Isobel’s back slammed against her seat as they ripped down the street. He took the first right without so much as braking, the rear of the car fishtailing.
Isobel groped for her seat belt and slung it over her lap, fumbling to snap it into place. She saw his hand twist the stereo’s volume dial all the way, his face showing little more than the faintest scowl as the sound of rage pumped through the cab.
He took another turn. Isobel yelped.
They barreled down a city street, swerving out of the left lane into the right as the car ahead of them braked for the light. Yellow flick red. They shot beneath.
“Varen,” she said, making her voice as stern and loud over the music as she could. She gripped her seat. “Slow. Down.”
The engine growled. He sped up.
“Varen, stop! You’re scaring me!”
He ignored her, tires shrieking as he twisted around another sharp corner. Isobel groped for something else to grab hold of. There was nothing.
Buildings and lights streamed by in a blur. Street signs raced past. Isobel’s head whipped from side to side, though she couldn’t place their fleeting surroundings. Around them, the world bled into one long streak.
Someone screamed at them from the sidewalk. The car rumbled like a beast.
Between the music and the speed, Isobel felt as though her mind might either melt or shatter.
The crashing song fizzed and zipped as they rocketed through an underpass. The lights on the dashboard dimmed and guttered. Static washed over the music while the needle of the speedometer teased higher, then loosened to swing back and forth. A low, dry voice cut through the static of the radio, buried amid a chorus of whispers. Unintelligible, the murmuring grew into a collective hiss.
“Go away,” Varen growled between clenched teeth.
At his command, the static rippled, then cleared. The music blared full force once more, and the dashboard lights resumed their dim red glow.
Ice water replaced Isobel’s rushing blood. Her fear spiked, crawling its way up from her very depths, paralyzing her. Her eyes slid from the dashboard radio to Varen. Who was he talking to?
“Varen—?”
He turned again, cutting her off. Her shoulder slammed into the passenger-side door, and Isobel pressed a hand to the glass to brace herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and yelled,
“You’re going to get us killed!”
He wasn’t listening.
She felt the buzzing sensation of speed course through her seat and hum through her body. She hated this feeling, of being so totally out of control. This was exactly what she’d always hated about driving with—
Isobel opened her eyes. She slammed her hand on the Discman beside her, killing the meltdown music. “Would you stop?” she screamed. “You’re driving like Brad!”
She saw his hands clench on the wheel and had only an instant to regret these words before his foot slammed on the brakes. Tires screeched. The world of buildings, streets, cars, lights, and people gained on them, stuttering into focus as the car squealed and skittered to a stop.
Isobel pitched forward in her seat, then slammed back again, the impact knocking the breath out of her. Around them, horns blared. Cars swerved and went swooshing past, drivers yelling from their windows.
Silence.
She stared at him, her breath coming in heaves. White headlights pierced the rear window, casting as much shadow as stark light into the car. Black shapes, sharp and quick, slipped over him. They swept their way down his form, retreating to their corners and crevices as a car passed around them, the light vanishing with it. He stared forward, both hands still fixed on the wheel. They sat in silence again, the engine still rumbling, a tension pulsing between them so thick that Isobel thought she might never catch her breath.
He moved finally, leaning forward in his seat so that his forehead almost touched the top of the steering wheel. “Sorry,” he said, the word scarcely audible.
Isobel dropped her gaze to her lap. She stared at her still-quivering knees and found herself once more at a loss for words.
He sat back and shifted the car into gear, and they were moving again. He drove with total control, and suddenly Isobel recognized the overpass they turned onto. He was taking her home.
“Varen—”
“Don’t,” he said.
Isobel snapped her teeth together and set her jaw. Deep down, she knew that it would be better not to say anything. Not when she knew he had never meant for her to see. To know.
30
Projected
Isobel let her bag drop in the foyer as soon as she stepped through the door. She stood dazed, remembering the way the Cougar had shot off the second she’d shut the car door. Just like that, he’d left her standing there in front of her house without so much as a “See you tomorrow.” She couldn’t even think where he could be headed, but she was certain that he wouldn’t go home.
