The drive to New Orleans felt like forever. Six hours of watching Smith's hands shake on the steering wheel. Six hours of seeing his eyes flash silver in the mirror. Six hours of the mate bond pulling tighter and tighter in Tamara's chest.
They stopped twice for gas. Both times, Smith stayed in the car.
"I'm fine," he said when she asked. But sweat was running down his face even with the AC blasting.
Jeremy called from the other car. "You guys okay back there?"
"Fine," Tamara lied. "Just tired."
Miles passed. Towns blurred together. The farther south they went, the heavier the air felt. Not just humid. Heavy with magic. Old magic. The kind that soaked into the ground over hundreds of years.
Smith's eyes flashed silver again near Baton Rouge. This time, Tamara saw his hands change for
