I hold Charlie tighter, slowly turning our bodies so that I’m between them and her. Bending down, I take her heart-shaped face in my hands. I press my lips to her honeysuckle mouth—
And then I push her back toward safety and explode toward the shadows.
Blue is there a second later, his fist connecting with Gage’s stomach.
I hit Salem once before the other three—Easton, Gage, and Lyra—are on me like cockroaches. I punch and kick and receive a burst of adrenaline when Charlie screams. One glance in her direction tells me Annabelle’s holding her in place, and though Charlie is fighting to get loose and help our cause, Annabelle is much stronger.
Thank Big Guy for that.
Agony detonates from all sides of my body as the four sirens throw their fists into my muscles, my bones. At some point I hear the crack of my cell phone in my pocket and know it’s DOA. Blue tries to help fight, but it isn’t enough. We’re two against four, and we’ll be lucky if we can get the three girls out of here unharmed.
Remembering Charlie’s life may be on the line, I ignore the pain and focus on one siren at a time. The first person I see is Lyra. I pause for only a beat before pulling my arm back, because I’m not above hitting a chick if she’s trying kill Charlie. But before my hand connects, Lyra gets laid out.
I mean, she gets—
Laid.
The.
Fuck.
Out.
Standing over her, causing everyone to stop and stare, is Aspen. With fury dancing in her green eyes, and a touch of red glowing against her dark clothing, she looks very much like a black widow ready to strike.
“Get that bitch,” Gage yells to Easton, and the way he says it, with such urgency, it’s like Aspen was their target all along.
Blue tries to stop him when he rushes by, but Easton’s suddenly Adrian Peterson, spinning like a ballerina and finding an opening. Before I can warn Aspen to get back, he’s on her.
And then he’s laid out, too.
Aspen’s hands are raised like she’s Bruce Lee, like she can’t wait to slaughter the next person who’s dumb enough to come at her. And all I’m thinking is, how is this chick able to fight better than I am?
While Salem is distracted, I throw a punch into his gut and bring him to the ground. He’s back on his feet in seconds, and now he and his brother, who has recovered, are on me. My back hits the concrete, and pebbles dig into my skin as Easton whips his leg into my ribs. From the ground, I see a silhouette over the brothers’ backs. It’s Aspen; she’s back for more.
She chops the side of her hand into Salem’s neck, and he drops like a fallen tree. Easton whirls around and goes for Aspen’s throat. No matter. She just spins her arms in and out, deflecting his hands and throwing her fist into his kidney.
“Hope you piss blood for a month,” she spits.
Next, she lands a kick on Lyra’s side before returning to Gage. She’s like a tornado, taking out everything in her path with controlled rage.
Blue pulls me to my feet. As soon as I’m up, I move to help Aspen, but he blocks me with his arm. “Look at her,” he says, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “She’s amazing.”
I hesitate, watching this girl with fingerless gloves among four sirens, beating them back with the same effort she might use to paint her nails. She doesn’t even need our help. And Blue’s right—she’s amazing.
Charlie finally gets away from Annabelle and races toward me. I meet her halfway and hold her back with even more strength than her best friend used.
“We’ve got to get you out of here,” I say, eyeing Annabelle, hoping she understands I mean for her to take Aspen’s car and go. “We’ll get Aspen and be right behind you.” Spinning around, I see Blue has joined the fight again, and adrenaline floods through me. “Go,” I tell Charlie, trying to push her back toward Annabelle.
“Like hell I will,” Charlie yells. Like a rabbit struggling against a coyote, she somehow breaks free and bounds toward Aspen.
“Charlie!” I charge after her until I hear the sound of a car approaching. I imagine it’s the owner of the diner, or the cops. How long have we been fighting the sirens? It feels like hours but has probably only been a couple of minutes.
A green 4Runner rips across the parking lot. Someone leaps out of the driver’s side.
Max!
Max gets to Charlie before I do. He reserves none of the gentleness I bestowed her before. Instead, he throws the tiny girl over his shoulder and rushes toward the SUV.
“No, wait,” I call out, relief rushing over me that he’s really here. My best friend is here. “Take Aspen’s car.”
He glances at the Ford Shelby. “Oh, damn,” he says before changing course and running toward the car. He corrals Charlie into the back, and Annabelle gets in the front.
“Blue,” Max calls out. “Get in the car.”
Blue looks at Max and then goes right back to pulling Lyra off Aspen.
“Blue, now!” Max thunders. His voice holds a ring of authority I’ve never heard before.
This time Blue listens. He jumps in the back with Charlie.
Now it’s my turn to get Aspen. I sprint toward her. After throwing one last right hook into Salem’s temple, she dashes away, yanking the keys out of her pocket and tossing them to me as she runs.
Aspen jumps into the back, and Max dives over Charlie’s, Aspen’s, and Blue’s laps. They groan from the weight as I start the engine and slam on the gas. In the rearview, I see the four sirens jogging behind the diner, probably headed to Gage’s BMW.
“What’s the plan, Max?” I ask. “We probably don’t have long.”
“Take the freeway east for six miles, exit at Lancaster, and take a right,” he instructs from the backseat. “There’s a plane waiting.”
I nod. “How the hell did you find us?”
“The tracker in your phone, duh.” Max giggles like a child from the backseat.
“My damn phone had a tracker?” I growl, glad it’s gone now. “Who did that?”
“Dude, seriously?”
And yeah, I guess he doesn’t need to say anything else. Valery is the one who insisted Charlie and I get phones, and that she’d buy them for us. I roll my eyes and decide to let it slide, considering Max just got us out of there safely.
I take the exit and pull into a small landing area. There’s only one small plane, painted creamy white with a maroon racing stripe. The side reads, buck’s plane corp.
I throw the muscle car into park and get out. Soon the six of us are loaded onto the plane, and Buck himself is zooming us down the runway. Aspen stares through a window at the car we’re ditching, and a ball of guilt bubbles in my chest. She’s left behind many things for us—her sister Sahara, her friend Lincoln, and a damn fine car. I’d like to seal her soul as a thank-you but decide to respect her wishes and let her be.
I turn to Charlie. She puts a hand on my leg, and I give a weak smile as the plane lifts from the tarmac and into the air. Behind us, Blue is drilling Aspen with questions. Where did she learn to fight? and Can she teach him those moves? And a bit quieter, Is she okay? Is she sure?
I focus on the ground rushing by beneath us and ponder the same questions. But more than anything, I wonder why the sirens fought Aspen like there was nothing more important than taking her down. I study Aspen, this girl that’s surprised me more than once.
Who are you?
Glancing back at the runway, I don’t see Gage’s car or any sight of the sirens. And for some reason, that bothers me more than if I did.
21 
Fade
Outside the window of the private plane, the clouds are even with the wings. It’s always my favorite part of a flight, where it looks like you could step outside and take a nap on spongy softness.