Page 62 of The Vigilante's Lover
I hold on to the belt with both hands. “Are we going to go that fast?”
“Not in this car, sadly. No jets. But don’t worry, we are in no hurry to get you to the safe house.” She presses several buttons and a screen blips on. It reads “Eight miles to rendezvous with clone identity.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. I want to learn it all. Maybe I can convince this Colette person to keep me on. I wouldn’t lose Jax then.
“I attached my identification to another person so I could meet Jax without the network knowing,” she says. “He’s not exactly on their good side at the moment.”
“How is it that you can defeat their security so easily?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s not easy, that’s for sure,” she says. “But Jax was a director, in line to take over the entire American syndicate. That got him some very high-level assistance, people like Sam, who can circumvent the very technology he invented.”
“And you? Are you special too?” I ask.
“Not particularly,” she says. “But I can do this.” She veers off the highway and we’re in the forest. Somehow she dodges trees, swervingright and left. Small branches whip against the windshield.
Then we hit a clearing and a small pond. She aims right for it.
I stifle a squeal but the car keeps going.
Right across the pond.
“Jesus,” I say.
“Literally,” she adds merrily, still concentrating. Ahead is an outcropping that erupts from the ground with enormous jagged rocks.
She slams the brakes and stops the car inches from it.
“How did you do that?” I turn around to look at the water, thinking it must be a mirage.
“All our cars are amphibious,” she says.
I place my hands against the dash. “Can this one fly?”
“Ah, you are excited by the possibilities, no?” Colette lets out another of her infectious laughs. “A Vigilante never reveals all her tricks!”
“How long have you been a Vigilante?” I ask.
“Since I was fourteen,” she says. She presses another button and after a moment, another car comes from behind the rocks. The driver waves to her.
On the dash, her screen says, “Identity reinstated.”
“I’m me again!” she says. She backs away from the cliff and circles the pond this time. “I stole a military tank when I turned twelve and drove it up the Champs-Élysées — a very important street in Paris.”
We head back through the trees, more leisurely this time. “Mymamanknew I had a fantastic career ahead of me as a Vigilante driver. Both my parents were in the network.”
“How did you end up in America?” I ask.
“Jax recruited me. He likes the idea of crossing the networks,” she says.
“Is that why Klaus was German?”
She frowns. “Yes. Klaus was very thorough, very good. He had a level of focus that isn’t as easy to come by in the States. Security was his strength.”
“I’m sorry that he’s dead.”
We bump back onto the road.
“Well, we must learn what happened to him.” She gives me a wan smile. “And for that, we must get back to your home. Find the clues.”
