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Chapter 85

They caught up with the silver convertible at the crossing in front of Kanla Park. Ruban tried to overtake the car, push it off the road, but the vehicle was far more powerful than their old sedan and it revved past them, gaining speed as it swerved and manoeuvred to dodge the other vehicles on the road. It was like some bizarre, real-life parody of Need for Speed, and it was all Ruban could do not to lose the car in the afternoon-rush. His hands itched to reach for his gun, but the place was too crowded for him to do anything but try and keep up with the convertible, biding his time.

Pressing down hard on the brake to avoid crashing into a truck trying to overtake them, the Hunter snarled. “Goddamn it! We’ll never catch up to them like this.”

Looking up from the GPS on his phone, Ashwin said with the same uncharacteristic calm he had worn like a cloak all day, “It’s alright. Just focus on not losing her for now. I think I know where she’s headed.”

“Where?” Ruban demanded impatiently, swerving to the right to avoid ramming into a lethargic biker who insisted on driving at a snail’s pace right in front of him. It was as if the whole damned city was conspiring with Reivaa to throw him off her trail.

“Zikyang forest. It’s around fifty miles north of Select City Walk and the area is almost completely deserted. I’d say it’s as good a hiding place as any for an Aeriel harbouring a human hostage. Just keep driving; she’ll have to stop somewhere.”

Traffic thinned the further up the city they drove. By the time they had reached the vicinity of Zikyang forest in the northernmost fringes of Ragah, one or two bullock-carts every couple of miles was all that crossed their path. The paved road disappeared into cobbled, uneven pathways too narrow for comfortable driving and the sedan jerked and heaved as it struggled to keep up with the slick, fast convertible.

“Uh…I don’t mean to impose or anything,” gasped Ashwin between one bout of violent, lurching turbulence and the next, his head banging loudly against the padded headrest of his seat. “But I think you should do something about this…um…problem now. There isn’t any more traffic here so, you know, feel free to do your thing.”

“You know what? I think you’re bang on about that. Take the wheel.” And with that Ruban leapt up onto his seat and leaning out of the window, his feet planted on the leather upholstery, pointed his gun at the convertible a few feet ahead of them and pulled the trigger. Two shots rang out through the forest in quick succession, even as a flabbergasted Ashwin threw himself onto Ruban’s abandoned seat to take control of the steering wheel.

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“A little warning next time wouldn’t kill you, you know,” he shouted over the din of gunfire with ill-concealed annoyance. “Seriously, you’ll kill yourself one of these days.”

The convertible lurched and shook as the stench of singed leather filled the air. Both the back wheels of the vehicle had been hit. It kept moving for a few more seconds, driven by sheer momentum, then came to a screeching, wailing halt, leaning precariously to its right. It looked almost ready to topple over.

Ruban threw his door open and leapt out of the car, ready to dart across to the bullet-ridden convertible even as Ashwin stepped out the other side of the sedan. Before they could advance any further towards the ruined vehicle, though, the front door of the Volkswagen – and Ruban could see now that it was indeed a Volkswagen – fell open with a metallic clang.

Out of the silver vehicle emerged a tall, light-skinned young woman with straight, reddish-brown hair that reached down to her hips. Her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and her full lips quirked upward on one side in a mockery of a smile. Before her she held a young girl in a white-and-red school uniform, one hand resting on her shoulder and the other wrapped almost gently around her throat, stroking the delicate skin just below the jawline. The girl stood stock-still; short, caramel curls sticking to her tear-streaked face, her clear brown eyes wide with terror. “Baan,” she breathed, the word barely audible as she stared up at the Hunter. “Help me.”

The woman laughed as Ruban lunged at her, held back only by Ashwin’s hands gripping his arms from behind. He snarled, fighting to free himself, his eyes fixed on the woman whose melodic laughter echoed through the forest. He burned with a hatred so raw in its unfiltered intensity that it staggered him. He hadn’t felt this way in years…in almost eight whole years. “Let me go,” he growled, trying to shake the Zainian off him. “I’ll kill her.”

“If you do anything now, she’ll kill Hiya,” Ashwin snapped behind him, pulling him back beside himself with one last forceful jerk. “This is not the time for a fight. We have to get Hiya out of here. She could kill her with less than a thought.”

“I really could, you know,” the woman said, her tone amused. “And I would too. Snap her little neck like a twig, if I didn’t have strict orders to bring her back in one piece. She’s a pretty little girl, isn’t she? Would make a pretty little corpse.”

A guttural sound, barely human, escaped Ruban’s lips; every fibre of his being strained to lunge at the enemy, to tear her to pieces. At the moment, he would gladly have traded his soul for a chance to tear into the Aeriel’s flesh with his bare hands.

Ashwin’s cool voice, measured and deliberate, cut through the crimson haze clouding his mind and vision, forcing him to focus. “Orders from whom?” the Zainian asked, tilting his head as if he were asking the Aeriel if she took milk with her coffee. “Tauheen? What does she want with the girl anyway? What has a child got to do with the sifblade formula?”

Reivaa laughed again, the sound ringing through the forest like a dark melody, harsh and caustic, but still beautiful. “Just as naïve as ever, aren’t you, my little prince? Always so curious, so inquisitive about every little thing, sniffing around where you had no business to be. I see your sister hasn’t been able to beat any more discipline into you since we last met.”