“I know they’re gone!” I shouted. “I just saw it in 3-D in my brain! They took off in a black car, a brown Jeep, and an El Camino with a broken taillight going south! I think they’re headed for the train station in Maysville. From there, they can fan out everywhere.” We had to do something. If the mystics got out of Cincinnati, I’d never survive the lawsuits.
“Maysville?” David muttered. “There’s nothing in Maysville.”
“There’s a train depot.” Trent’s brow was furrowed, gaze distant. “The trains don’t usually stop there, but since the Cincinnati depot is under quarantine, they’ve adjusted the schedule.” His eyes met mine. “They’re taking them out of Cincinnati by train.”
My gut hurt. Landon and Ayer had fought among themselves. The survivors took the mystics and left. “Where does the Maysville line go?”
Trent’s lips pressed tightly and he looked at his watch. “Chicago.”
Better and better.
Ivy listened to her cell phone, lips parting. “Oh.” She ended the call. “Scott, will you get the door?”
The rolling sound of the door echoed, and I flinched when a bunch of mystics pulled from me with a stretchy feeling to play in the sound wave. The door slid open to show Edden standing in the dark in a bulletproof vest with an ACG breaker under it. He was tucking his own phone away, and his cross expression melted into concern upon seeing the three vampires, David, Trent, and myself. Taking his FIB hat off, he threw it into the ditch.
“Get in,” Ivy said tartly, but Edden was still looking us over, eyes widening when Trent gave him a businesslike nod.
David gestured impatiently. “In or out!” he exclaimed, looking at his watch. “Rachel says they’re trying to catch the Maysville train.”
“Maysville?” Edden echoed as he scrambled in, then his confusion vanished. “That’s right. It stops there now.”
Ivy was already putting the van into drive as Scott slammed the door shut. Sitting down, the squat man’s eyes lit up at Nina’s arsenal; clearly he wanted to play with the grenades. Jenks’s kids arrowed in as we accelerated back onto the road, but no Jenks or Bis. One pixy had a walnut, and I watched him wedge it between the roof and a visor.
I hung my head as the images of cars on the expressway suddenly began to make sense, blinking when Edden touched my knee. “Rachel, are you okay? You look like crap.”
“I feel like crap.” I took a deep breath and sat up. “I’m fine. Just channeling the home world a little too much.”
Trent was on the phone, one finger in his ear to block out the noise. If anyone knew the train schedule, it would be Trent. He owned most of the lines that ran through Cincinnati.
“Where am I going?” Ivy called out as we picked up speed.
“North,” Trent said as he closed his phone. “They’re already on the train. It will pass through Cincinnati in about fifteen minutes, and from there they hit Chicago, but I doubt that’s their final destination.”
“But where am I going?” she asked again, stress showing in her voice, and he got to his feet, balance shifting as he made his way up to the front. He gave David a look, and the man eased out of the front seat to take the open spot beside me.
“This is kind of unusual for you, Rachel. A group thing?” Edden said as he gave a respectful nod to Scott across from him. The vampire was clearly uneasy with the FIB captain joining our joyride, the man years older and tons more sedentary than everyone else in the van.
“Tell me about it,” I grumped. Everyone wanted to help. Damn it, I felt like Frodo being chaperoned to Mordor, and like Frodo, I was beginning to wonder why I couldn’t have just taken the eagles and flown out there by myself and saved everyone a lot of grief. But I suppose everyone wanted to help save the world.
“What happened?” David asked, open phone in hand. “My sources are coming up empty.”
Edden brought his gaze back from Nina’s weaponry. “The intel was wrong. We moved early and found the place empty.”
The intel was wrong? Maybe the I.S. was lying to Edden as well and had thrown their own private party before inviting him. “That’s not what I saw,” I said, remembering what the mystics had shown me. “There was a fight. At least three singulars, I mean people, died.”
Edden hesitated, feet spread wide to balance himself as we swayed and leaned. “Then they cleaned up after themselves, because it looks clean.” His mustache bunched. “Too clean,” Edden muttered, coming to the same conclusion. “Seems as if Landon and Ayer had a difference in opinion.”
In a rush of wings, Jenks flew in with Bis, the pixy clearly drafting off Bis, the stronger flier. “Thanks for waiting for us, blood bag,” he snarled, panting as he landed on the rearview mirror. “We got everyone?” he asked, and a chorus of tiny, high-pitched yes’s came back.
David closed his phone with a snap. Swerving, we tore through an intersection, the traffic lights black and the road empty. “It wasn’t my people,” David said as he tucked it away. “But I do have reports of a, and I quote, ‘weird feeling’ about sunset.”