17
I tugged at Mya. “Give me your car keys. Dagor and Catarina sped by.”
Mya turned on her heels and dashed for the door. “I’m driving. I’ve always wanted to be in a chase.”
“What about my chicken?” Muffin hollered as we flew through the door.
“We’ll be back,” Mya called.
“Oh, hell!” Muffin pouted as she barreled after us.
We piled into the car, and Mya peeled out of the parking lot.
“Where do I go?” she asked.
“Turn left and head straight down the road. You’ll have to speed to catch them. They had to be going at least fifteen over the speed limit.”
She pressed her fashionably heeled foot down on the accelerator. The speedometer read ten over and then fifteen. When she was swerving between cars at twenty over, I kept my eye out for the SUV. I wasn’t sure about Cat’s sedan, but I c
