Page 58 of These Witches Don't Burn
“Look out!”
A large SUV pulls up alongside us, the windows tinted too dark to see the driver inside. They swerve, smashing into the side of our car. We slam into the concrete-and-metal guardrail lining the bridge. Gemma’s door caves in, and she screams, a bone-chilling sound that wraps around the base of my spine. Her window implodes, and there’s a screech of tires. The SUV backs up, crossing two lanes of traffic, then jerks forward, gathering speed and slamming into us again.
They’re going to crush us. They’re going to kill us.
I reach for the bits of earth energy in the concrete barrier. I push with every ounce of my adrenaline-fueled magic.
Break. Please break.
At first there’s nothing but Gemma’s screams and the prickles of pain along my skin and the revving of the SUV’s engine in my ears.
And then finally, an explosion of dust and debris as the concrete barrier gives way. Our car rushes through the gap and plummets into the frigid water below.
16
A SHOCK OF PAINslams against my chest as the car lands in the river. Water pours through the broken window, the cold numbing my feet, my calves, my thighs. Gemma’s screams fill my head, leaving room for only one other thought.
I don’t want to die.
Magic surges beneath my skin, and I don’t care if this sends me to the Council. I don’t care if I lose my power. I’m not ready to die. I’m not ready to lose my best friend, especially not to a Witch Hunter. I reach a hand across the front seat and press against the broken window with my magic. The water moves fast, too fast, and I can’t get a grip on its energy. Panic rises with the waves, the frigid water reaching my belly button, then my ribs.
“Hannah,” Gemma says, her screams turning into sobs. “I don’t want to die.”
“I know,” I say, pushing harder and finally,finallyfinding a hold in the river’s power. “Just stay calm.” I push with all my strength and the water stops rushing in through the window, rolling over the broken glass and continuing along the length of the car as we sink farther and farther beneath the surface.
Gemma leans away from the scene of my magic. “What’s happening? How—” She turns to me, eyes wide, cheeks streaked with tears and mascara. “Is that you? How are you doing that?”
“You’re hallucinating,” I lie. “From the shock.” I stare throughmy unbroken window, looking for a way out of this that protects my secret. I can’t raise the car out of the water. I don’t have that kind of power, and even if I did, there would be too many witnesses. The magic would be too obvious.
I unbuckle my seat belt and reach for the lever under my seat, pushing my chair as far back as it will go. We’ll have to swim. Or at least make it look like we’re swimming. I should have enough strength to pull us to the surface and back to shore.
If we can get out of this sinking car.
“What are you doing?” Gemma asks, her arms trembling from cold and fear and adrenaline.
“I’m making sure we don’t drown.” I reach into the water and unbuckle her seat belt. “Can you get out through your window?”
Gem tries to pull herself up, but she cries out and falls back, squeezing her eyes shut. “It hurts. Holy fuck it hurts.”
“Where?” I reach my hands into the water, trying to feel for what might be wrong.
“My leg.” Her hands disappear under the water. For a moment, she’s silent. Then the tears start again. “It’s trapped by the door.” Sobs choke her, and she reaches for my arm. “What if it’s broken? What if I can’t dance?”
My panic rises to meet hers, and a thin stream of water breaks through my barrier. I force the worry away and throw more magic at the shattered window. I have to keep out as much of the water as I can until I have a plan. “Look at me, Gemma. Look. We’re going to get out of this. I need you to hold as still as you can, okay?”
She nods, and I close my eyes, slipping my awareness into the water that’s already past my elbows and halfway to my shoulders. The thread of magic slides along her legs, and my stomachclenches when I touch exposed bone. Jagged metal has torn through skin and muscle. I force my attention on the broken door, on the thin stream of water separating it from Gemma’s body, and then Ipush.
Her screams pierce the small, cramped space between us, but the water’s pressure bows the door back out, freeing her leg. The water turns pink. Then red.
“No, no, no, no.” That’s too much blood. Way too much blood. Gemma’s eyes go glassy. Her words slur as she tries to speak, and then her head lolls back against the headrest. We have to go. We have to get back to the surface.
I can’t climb over Gem without hurting her more, so I reach for the handle and shove my shoulder into the door. The pressure of the water rushing past keeps it closed. I scream, shoving harder and pushing the water inside the car against the metal, forcing it open. The entire door rips off at the hinges, floating away on the current. Water rushes into the car, faster than before, but it doesn’t matter now. We have to go.
“Come on, Gem.” I thread my arms under hers. “Deep breath.” I inhale a lungful of air and tug us out of the car and into the current.
The water buffets us up and down, spinning us until it’s hard to tell which way is up. Only the car’s descent helps me find my bearings. I pull on my magic one more time, begging the water to carry us to the surface. Pain floods my body, screaming through bone and flesh and blood, but my magic obeys.
We burst above the waves, and I gasp for air, shivering and crying and afraid my toes are going to fall off from the cold. I pull one of Gemma’s arms over my shoulders, and her head knocks against mine.
