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itself, the ground kaleidoscopeing in all directions. Her body jerked painfully, and agony speared her skull.
    The car slid on its roof to a stop, but her body still felt like it was rolling. Muffled curses echoed through her brain. Warm liquid leaked into her eyes and blurred her vision. Where was Mace? Had he jumped out of the car, hoping the crash would kill her?
    “Cora?” Mason’s voice sounded from outside. The passenger side door creaked open and then was nearly ripped from its hinges.
    She closed her eyes, expecting the final blow of death.
    “Cora, are you alright? Can you move?”
    “Mace, I don’t want to die.”
    “I know, sweetheart. Tell me, can you move your arms and legs?”
    “I think so.”
    “I’m going to cut the seatbelt and pull you out. I’m sorry if I hurt you.” He didn’t wait for a response, and she tried not to cry out when he extracted her from the vehicle and laid her on the gravel. “Someone rammed us off the road,” he explained, looking around. “They kept driving, but they could be back any minute. Are you okay to walk?”
    “I think gas leaked all over me,” she said instead of answering. She lifted her arm and wiped along her forehead. When she pulled her arm away, red coated her sleeve. She couldn’t make sense of it. Red gasoline? “Oh, goddess.”
    “ Shh. It’s not as bad as you think,” he said, but his eyes went tight with worry.
    Something like a giggle escaped her. “Lies could get us both killed,” she mocked, then laughed harder. She stopped when pain and dizziness cut into her brain. The harsh bite of exhaust and burning rubber tortured her lungs, and she coughed violently.
    Her vision wavered.
     
     
    “Damn, you’re out of it.” Mace helped her sit up.
    He cinched one arm under her legs, the other around her back, then carried her from the crash site, laying her back down a few yards away.
    Kneeling next to her, he retrieved his phone from his pocket and tapped Trent’s name under his contacts. The line rang once, and then Trent answered, “You miss me already?”
    “We have a problem.”
    Trent went silent and waited for him to continue.
    “Someone just side-swiped us off the road, a black SUV, tinted windows.”
    “License plate?”
    “I didn’t get a chance to write it down while I was death-rolling,” Mace snapped.
    “Alright, untwist your panties. Is the girl okay?”
    He glanced down at Cora. Her face was locked in a grimace, and blood gushed from her head wound. The sweet scent of it had his fangs descending; a purely unintentional, primal response.
    “She’s alive , for now.”
    Cora’s eyes shot wide, and he cursed her inherent fear of his kind. The way her voice had sounded when she’d told him she didn’t want to die made him realize she’d assumed that was why he had returned to the car. Not to help her, but to end her.
    “I need to get her somewhere safe,” he said, loud enough for her benefit. “Our attackers could be doubling back to check their work.”
    “I can have someone there in twenty minutes?”
    “Not soon enough.”
    The roar of a motorcycle drew his gaze. The biker slowed and eased off the road toward them, looking concerned. Blessed good Samaritans.
    “Besides, my ride just showed up. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up.
    “You guys need help?” The biker zeroed in on Cora’s wound. “I have some EMT training.” He dropped the kickstand with his foot and lumbered off the bike.
    “Thanks, man.” Mace locked eyes with him. “ But I’ll be taking the bike.”
    The compulsion went to work instantly. The biker’s pupils expanded, eating away the brown of his irises. “Okay.”
    “You’ll walk to the nearest town and call a cab to get you where you’re going. After four days, you’ll report the bike stolen, not before.”
    “Okay,” the biker repeated. As soon as Mason released his stare, he strolled away.
    Mace turned back to Cora and lifted her off the ground.
    She made a sound of complaint,