“Are you new to the area?”

“Yes, we just moved in.”

Søren could see the other man trying to work things out. “Well, it’s mighty kind of you to look after your dad.”

Her eyes widened, and she pressed up against Søren’s side. “Oh, he’s not my father.”

The salesman let that pass, but from the look he gave Søren, he was wondering how many magic pills it took for him to keep his new bride happy. “Why don’t you tell me what your price range is, and I’ll show you what I’ve got in the ballpark.” He paused and then added, “You know if you like that Prizm, I do offer weekly financing. No banks-”

“No credit,” Søren snapped in his best crotchety voice. “I don’t hold with it-never have, never will.”

Beside him he felt Mia stiffen in astonishment. He flushed with pride, even though it was a basic skill. As he’d told her previously, any competent voice actor could develop different tones for different roles.

Though they hadn’t discussed it, she said smoothly, “We really can’t spend more than five hundred dollars.”

The salesman scowled. “You should be in a junkyard, not on my lot.”

Mia gazed at him through her lashes, and he saw the other man melt. God knew he’d been on the receiving end of her doe eyes. Good thing this guy didn’t know how much of a shark she was.

“Well, if you’re sure there’s absolutely nothing…” She turned as if to lead Søren away.

“Wait.” Before they’d gotten ten feet, the dealer broke. “I guess I could make you a deal on that Toyota.”

“What year is it?” Søren asked.

“1994.”

“That was a good year,” he mused. “My old dog Kip was still alive then. By gum, that hound could hunt. Honey, did I tell you-”

“Yes, dear.” She fielded the “senior” non sequitur without missing a beat. “I know about Kip. The dog ran into a blind and brought out two ducks, and he hadn’t even shot them,” she added in explanation to the salesman, who looked bemused.

“That’s some hound,” the salesman agreed eventually.

Mia pretended to study the Toyota for the first time. “Hm. It has damage on the fender… and the bumper. There are rust spots at the bottom of the passenger doors. And this headlight is cracked.”

“Minor,” the salesman snapped. “If you want full disclosure, the air conditioner don’t work, and neither does the cigarette lighter. But the car runs, and for what you’re willing to pay, you won’t do better.”

Hard to argue that.

Mia said, “Well, we like the fresh air and neither of us smoke. That Toyota would be perfect, and you’re the sweetest man ever to work with us like this.”

In short order, they bought the car for cash and drove away. Mia took the wheel until they’d gone a few blocks. At Søren’s request, she pulled into a shopping center and paused while he scanned the cars.

She regarded him quizzically. “What now?”

In answer he peeled the temporary plate card out of the back window and popped a plate from a vehicle of identical make and model, but different production year. It would attract less attention. He knew from experience, cops took note of thirty-day dealer cards.

As he straightened, he found himself very close to Mia. Her skin glowed bronze in the morning light, so warm and lovely he couldn’t resist running a fingertip down her cheek. She reacted with a little shiver, and her response went through him like a blade.

“You were amazing back there,” he said.

“Right back at you. Shall we press on?”

He nodded; there was no real alternative. Søren climbed into the car and drove.

His eyes felt gritty now. The coffee and sugar from breakfast were starting to wear off, siphoned by the use of his ability at the dealership. Rest would be helpful-and with Mia nearby he might even sleep-but they had to push on. Getting to safety was the first priority, and then they had to lay their own plans: a trap for the unwary.

Running could only take you so far.

It was afternoon, and Mia thought her kidneys might vibrate out of her body.

Breaks at various service stations had carried them from Kentucky into Tennessee. Søren had stopped to fill the trunk with provisions. She didn’t ask his plans because he seemed to prefer doling them out in tiny nibbles. But if his enemies took her, she couldn’t reveal what he hadn’t confided. Pragmatic to the point of painful, no doubt, but that was the world she lived in now.

At times it felt as if she’d passed through the magic glass, and she’d wound up on the other side with Alice, warding off “drink me” bottles and perpetually late rabbits.

Enormous trees patterned the pavement with jade-tinged light. They were high in the mountains, winding along a road that was a little too narrow for her peace of mind. When they turned off said road, she thought Søren might have gone crazy. It was touch and go for a while; she thought the Toyota might not make it over the ruts and overgrown weeds.

Then they came to the cabin at the end, an actual log cabin.

She’d never seen such a thing outside of pictures. Never imagined she’d stay in one. If his “cabin” in Virginia had been tourist-rustic, this was for-real rustic, like someone’s grandfather had built it with the sweat of his brow, maybe after a barn raising.

Søren followed the faint path around to the back. Once he turned off the engine, it continued to tick over, a mechanical cicada protesting the silence. Out here, Mia could hear the birds calling in the trees with perfect clarity, which was somewhat horrifying.

“It used to belong to my parents,” he said quietly. “My real parents.”

“Used to.”

“Yes.”

She let that pass for now, as she really wanted out of the damn car. Her ass was both numb and vibrating, a particularly unsettling combination. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for decades.”

“I doubt they have. My parents are getting on in years, and my sisters aren’t much for the mountains.”

Mia climbed out of the Corolla with a moan. “Are you positive the new owner won’t mind us being here?”

“Positive.”

As they unloaded the trunk, she asked, “How can you be sure?”

“Because it’s mine. I used to come up here with Lexie and-”

“Your wife?”

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze leaden like a sky promising rain. “Yes. She came a few times, but she didn’t like it much. She didn’t enjoy the silence or the isolation.”

God, it hurt, knowing he had been married. Presumably he’d loved this other woman with all the fire and devotion she sensed in him, now tamped beneath layers of loss and heartbreak.

“Did you love her?” The question felt like it carried barbs, but she had to know.

“I thought so at the time. Now I think I just wanted to not be alone.”

There was no point in asking; he wouldn’t tell her. And yet she couldn’t resist. His mysteries were endless and alluring. “What was she like?”

But he surprised her.

“Sad,” he said at length.

“In what way?”

“Because her whole life was a lie, and I think on some level, she sensed it.”

“She didn’t know you, then.”

“No,” he said quietly. “Nobody ever did, until you.”

That gave her pause, arms laden with bags. “Not even your parents?”

“When I was a child, perhaps. But as I got older, my gift started affecting them, too.” He answered the unspoken question in her eyes. “No, they don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Where do they think you are? Living here like a hermit?”

“Not exactly.” His icy eyes went queer and distant, gazing over distant treetops as if into the past. “They think I died in that car accident. Everyone expected me to-”

“And your gift supplied the illusion,” she said in horror. “They couldn’t see you. But how did that work? You were hurt, and the staff thought you were dead…?”

“They simply stopped tending me. I left. My scars wouldn’t be so bad if I’d completed the course of treatment.”