“Can’t do that, darlin’,” Lambert said with a slimy grin. “What’s yer name, sweetie?”
Cole, behind the wheel and about to look in the purse he’d seen on the passenger seat, snapped his eyes up to the rearview mirror. “Lay off,” he said. “We’re just getting what we need.”
“She likes me.”
“No I …don’t,” the girl muttered.
“She likes the bad boys,” Lambert said. “Gangsta types. That’s what she’s thinkin’.”
According to what Cole heard, Lambert had been locked up in G7 because he was a mind reader. Judging by the look on the girl’s face, he might have struck a nerve. Even so, he told Lambert, “Just watch her. The only time you need to touch her is if she makes a wrong move.”
Lambert met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “What do you think I’m gonna do to her? Just because I’m a—”
“Spare me the hurt feelings speech and just watch her!”
“What is that …thing?” the girl asked. “The thing that climbed into my car.”
Frank was nowhere in sight, but Cole assumed he’d return on his own, as he had before. Instead, he concerned himself with the purse. He took most of the cash as well as a debit card, left the credit cards, and kept digging until he found the girl’s cell phone. It was a newer model, wrapped up in a hot pink case with little fake jewels glued around the portrait of a Hollywood pretty boy who’d made a living playing even prettier vampires in a cable television series. “Great,” he sighed.
“Let me go,” she demanded.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” he assured her. Tossing the purse on the seat beside him, he put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road. “We just need the car, okay?”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. Lambert stayed on his side of the seat as the car picked up speed. Thanks to the DOOR AJAR light on the dash coming on, Cole knew exactly what the inmate was doing when he lunged across at her. After grabbing her arm, Lambert pulled her away from the door that now swung open. By the time Cole pulled over, Frank had run up close enough to the car to shut the door again. As soon as she saw him, the girl yelped and pressed herself against Lambert.
“See?” the inmate said. “Told ya she liked me.”
Cole twisted around and placed his arm across the back of the seat. “I know this is scary,” he said to the blonde. “We aren’t going to hurt you. Just bear with us and you’ll have a hell of a story to tell to your friends.”
“Or to the cops,” Lambert said. “Or the news. That’s what she’s thinkin’.”
“Could you always read people that easily?” Cole asked.
“Nope. Just when they ain’t guarding their brains. Young ones are easier too,” he added. “They think they’re so smart but …Ooooh! That’s nasty, girl!”
She scowled at him and grew pale. The combination of fear and excitement in her eyes was close to what Cole had seen on the faces of humans who’d frequented Steph’s Blood Parlor and paid for Nymar to feed on them. Apparently, being the food of supernatural predators was still what all the cool kids were doing.
“Hold on to her, Lam,” Cole said. “What’s your name, miss?”
“Brianne.”
“She don’t like bein’ called miss.”
“Yeah,” Cole said. “I figured. Okay, Brianne. Just sit tight and we’ll let you off the first place we can. Sound good?”
She didn’t say anything, but must have been thinking in some pretty colorful terms because Lambert chuckled and shook his head.
Cole kept driving south, simply because that was the easiest way to keep the prison behind them. On all sides there was nothing but flat land covered in dead grass. The air was getting crisper, as if blowing in straight from the top of the distant mountains. Frank bounded ahead of them, scouting for any policemen or roadblocks set up in response to the situation at the prison. Every so often the Squam would show up on the side of the road to wave them along. The next time he showed up, he pointed them toward another highway to avoid a pair of state troopers. Cole drove for another several miles until he caught sight of a billboard advertising a truck stop coming up. Pulling off to the side of the road, he asked, “Have you been able to read Frank?”
“Off and on,” Lambert replied. “That’s why Waylon forced me to stay so close to him for so long. He wanted to know where the rest of them lizard men were hiding.”
“Lizard men?” Brianne squeaked, as if she’d convinced herself the sight of her carjacker had been a bad dream. “Oh God.”
“Can he be trusted?”
Lambert screwed his face up into a distasteful frown, but shrugged and replied, “Hasn’t dicked us over yet.”
Since it had been a while since the last time he saw his scaly partner, Cole kept his eyes on the shoulder until the Squam bounded into view. He reached for the shotgun he’d tucked near his feet, making sure Brianne saw it as he stepped outside. “Stay put,” he told her.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the weapon as she nodded meekly.
“What’s wrong?” Frank asked as he approached the car. His eyes darted back and forth before focusing on a vehicle approaching from the other lane. He stood closer to Cole and lowered his head so anyone in that dark blue Camry couldn’t make out more than the shapes of two men standing beside the hatchback. “We can’t stop in plain sight like this.”
“I know,” Cole replied. “You’re taking this girl into those trees and keeping an eye on her.”
Frank’s brow furrowed. It would have been a menacing expression for anyone his size, but on a man covered in yellow scales with gill flaps along his nose, it was downright chilling. “I won’t kill her.”
“Damn right you won’t. I want you to keep her here while me and Lambert drive ahead to that truck stop. Give us about fifteen minutes to top off the tank and get some supplies and then point her toward the same place. It’s only about a mile walk so she should be able to make it.”
“And what if she doesn’t?” Frank asked. “A pretty girl on her own, walking on a stretch of road, she could get into trouble.”
Suddenly, Cole felt bad for bringing the shotgun along. Not only had Frank proven to be nothing but honorable this far, but he seemed more concerned for Brianne’s welfare than he himself did. “Then stick with her to make sure she gets there safely. You might want to stay out of sight, though. I think you freak her out.”
“I understand.”
Cole opened the car and settled behind the wheel. “Hand her off to Frank.”
Brianne looked outside and practically jumped into Lambert’s arms. “No. No! Please don’t!”
“Get out,” Cole demanded.
When she looked to him, Lambert said, “You heard the man, sweet stuff.”
Somehow, the endearing tone in Lambert’s voice seemed more of a motivator than the shotgun in Cole’s hands. She kicked the door open. Almost immediately Frank was there to take her hand and help her out. Resigned to her fate, Brianne sobbed to herself and shuffled away.
“How far away can you read someone?” Cole asked.
“Don’t know. Depends on if I know them or not.”
“What about her? Will you be able to read her from a mile or two down the road?”
“Hell yes. That girl’s scared shitless, and not too bright anyways. Makes for a good combo.”
“Just let me know if she gets hurt.” Grudgingly, Cole drove away. The next time he checked his rearview mirror, Frank and the blonde were already out of sight.
About two minutes later he pulled up to the farthest pump at the truck stop that had been advertised on the billboard. “Thank Christ,” Lambert said. “I gotta take a piss.”
“Hold it.”
“I can’t!”
“You’re dressed in a freaking gray jumpsuit. You know what that makes you look like? Someone who escaped from a prison!”
“Fine,” Lambert grunted as he unzipped the front of his jumpsuit and rolled down the top portion so it was gathered around his waist to reveal a sweat-stained wife beater similar to the one Frank wore. “Better?”