Golden Anidae (A Blushing Death Novel) by Suzanne M. Sabol

side of the truck’s cab.
    “My name’s Dahlia, by the way,” I said as he closed his own door and fired up the engine.
    He shifted the old truck into drive with a grind of worn gears and hit the gas.
    “Yes, Ma’am, I know. Every supernatural in this city knows who you are,” he said with a quick glance my way.
    “Perfect,” I said, sliding down in the seat and crossing my arms. So much for going unnoticed. “I’m staying on the west side of town,” I huffed.
    “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Ma’am,” he said, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
    I turned full toward him and leaned my back against the door. “Look,” I snapped. “That’s the second time in an hour that someone’s called me ‘ma’am’. I don’t like it.”
    “Well, Ma—” Raiden started but never managed to finish. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Sabin. For some of us, it’s an old habit to break.”
    “I bet,” I snapped. The onramp for I-15 N loomed ahead and I bristled at the thought of disappearing into the desert with this guy. Everybody knew there were plenty of holes in the desert and I didn’t want to be in one of them.
    Where the hell is he taking me?
    “So,” I started in a more compliant, softer and less aggressive, tone. I did not want to be taken out into the desert. No way, no how. “When you said that it wasn’t a good idea, what did you mean?” I pushed myself as far up against the door panel as my body would allow and slid my hand behind me. Reaching for the door handle at my back, I clutched the cold metal in my grasp. I didn’t particularly want to jump from a moving vehicle at speeds of 65 miles an hour or more but I would if I had to.
    “Those two boys are still following us. I didn’t think you wanted to lead them back to your house. Jarvis and his like can’t get in but those two servants can,” he said. His voice was flat and sure as he peered out into the darkness beyond the windshield, the city and its lights disappearing behind us.
    “Where are you taking me?” I asked with my hand still clutching the door handle.
    His eyes darted over at me with an expression in his gaze that made me feel like a frightened animal boxed into a canyon. I swallowed hard and gripped the handle tighter, making my knuckles ache. The metal gave just a bit under my fingers and my strength.
    “Someplace they can’t follow,” he answered, returning his eyes to the road. Tapping his index fingers absently on the steering wheel, he drove. Tension percolated in the cab of the truck as the air became static and charged with my desire to run, to get the hell out.
    “I’m not going to hurt you but jumping from a moving vehicle might, Ms. Sabin. Relax. We’ll be there soon enough.”
    “Where’s there?” I asked.
    “Moapa River Indian Reservation,” he answered. “We’ll be there in about an hour. Relax and enjoy the ride.”
    I backed away from the door panel and eased into the bench seat. Fastening my seatbelt, I relaxed. Raiden was right. I was pretty sure I could take him one on one but the damage done from jumping might be too much, even for me.
    The desert stretched out in front of us, around us, and behind us in an endless sea of nothingness as far as the eyes could see. The rattling hum of the engine lulled me into a fuzzy dreariness. The soft rumble felt soothing with its constant rhythm and the knock in the engine every ten seconds.
    I tried to keep my eyes open, knowing it was dangerous to close them. No matter what I did, the quiet in the cab and the rough sound of the engine made my eyes heavy. I tried to convince my brain that I was in danger, but couldn’t convince myself, or the soft familiar voice in my head as her warmth filled my body. I closed my eyes only for a second.
    His hands were so warm against my skin. Nearly covering the whole side of my face, he brushed a salty tear from my cheek.
    “I missed you,” his deep baritone whispered in my ear as