Page 55 of Toxic Salvation
“Care to explain why?”
“Because we’re being followed. Have been for the last ten miles, at least.”
Pavel twists in his seat to peer over his shoulder, squinting through the rear windshield. “Are you sure?”
I shoot him a look. “I’m so glad I brought you along as my lookout. You’re really knocking it out of the park here, brother.”
“Always do. Are you talking about that little yellow Mini Cooper?”
“That’s the one.”
Pavel snorts so hard I’m worried he might paint my backseat with snot. “Come on, Kovan. No Mini Cooper driver in the history of the world has ever been involved in espionage. Of any kind.”
I take the U-turn and watch in my rearview mirror as the Mini Cooper slows down and continues straight. Pavel notices, too, and immediately gets that smug expression that makes me want to punch him.
“See?” he chuckles. “I told you. You’re losing it, man.”
“Did the driver seem familiar to you?”
“I dunno,” Pavel says, already fumbling around in the glove compartment for the box of pretzels he brought along for the ride. The man has the attention span of a goldfish. “The car was too far back to make out anything useful.”
“I could have sworn…”
“Listen, brother.” Pavel tears open his pretzel bag. “You’ve been overworking yourself lately. Late nights, barely any sleep, tracking Ihor’s every move twenty-four-seven. Not to mention keeping tabs on Nico and obsessing over Vesper’s security detail. You’re getting paranoid. Starting to see danger where there isn’t any.” He crunches loudly on a pretzel and continues yapping with his mouth full. “You know how I can tell? You thought we were being followed by a fucking Mini Cooper. A yellow one, for Christ’s sake. What’s next, a clown car? Is the Mystery Machine hot on our tail? Are Veronica Mars and the Hardy Boys hunting us down?”
I stopped listening to Pavel about thirty seconds ago. That’s because I can see the Mini Cooper again through my side mirror.
“Um, bro?” Pavel waves a hand in front of my face. “Are we doing this surveillance thing or what? We want to catch Damien while he’s still half-asleep and stupid. Dude’s a complete moron when he first wakes up. He’ll sing like a nightingale if we time this right.”
“That can wait.” My jaw clenches as I spot the yellow flash again. “We’re definitely being followed.”
Pavel throws his hands up, scattering pretzel crumbs across my leather interior. “How many times do I have to tell you?—”
I see it. So does Pav.
A flash of yellow.
My brother’s pretzel-munching stops abruptly. “… Shit.”
“Run the license plate number for me.”
Pavel fumbles with his phone, suddenly all business. “Let me see…” His fingers fly across the screen. “Hm.”
“What?”
“License plate is registered to a rental car company called Drive Line. Based pretty close to our house, actually. That’s weird.”
Every alarm bell in my head starts going off at once. A rental car. Close to home. Following us with just enough skill to be dangerous but not quite enough to stay invisible.
“I think I know who’s following us.” My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Get Oley on the phone.”
“Vesper’s guard?”
“Do it now. Put it on speaker.”
“Okay, okay.” Pavel dials quickly, and Oley’s gruff voice fills the car.
“Hey, boss. What’s up?”
