The Shadow Circle

Chapter- 17

The drive back to Chicago was tense and surprisingly uneventful. It was the kind of surprise I liked. While I was all for spontaneity, I was learning that sometimes you can expect the worst and the universe will still find a way to screw that up.

You know, like when you're helping a criminal prince take down an empire, you think you've hit rock bottom. Then you receive divine interference from your country in the form of an FBI agent who makes you a deal that you can't refuse.

Not to mention that if I get caught, I die. Either at Kai's hands or the Circle's, not that his highness would want to get his hands dirty with my blood. He'd probably leave me alone with Dean Cavilleri and that should do the trick.

Yay life.

"Julian! How much longer?!" I yelled. I hated sitting still in one place for more than a few seconds. This car ride was a medieval torture.

"I told you five minutes back!" He said.

Five minutes? That was progress.

"Shut up," Kai mumbled. Right, I should probably bring you up to speed.

Julian was driving. Elizaveta was chatting with him. Kai had fallen asleep.

I was bored.

"Hi, Elizaveta!" I said.

"Please shut up," she said.

"Julian how much longer?!" I demanded.

"Kestrel! I'm trying to drive here!"

"Hurry up!" I yelled at him. "My grandma drives better than you!"

"Your Grandma drives?" Elizaveta asked curiously.

"Yeah, she drove a tank when she was with the IDF," I said.

"Oh god," Julian sighed.

"Okay, but how much longer?" I asked.

"Julian, I can't tolerate her. How much longer?" Elizaveta whined and pointed at me. I stuck my tongue out.

Elizaveta was dressed in a black shirt and yoga pants that hugged every curve.

Kai woke up. He didn't even stretch, yawn or blink like a normal person, it was as if his biological switch had flipped to 'awake.'

But I left him alone.

"How much longer?!" I demanded.

"I told you. Two hours!" He said. "Go to sleep."

"Are you just saying that so I stop talking?"

"Yes!" Elizaveta, Kai and Julian said in unison.

Kai ran his fingers through his hair.

I decided to shut up and it was probably one of the smartest decision I'd made so far.

Something was different about him now, though. He looked a lot more serious and stoic. His playful nature had vanished. Even his clothes were different. He was dressed entirely in black, black shirt, black pants, black combat boots. The collar of his leather jacket was turned up and he wore black leather gloves too. The only part of him visible was his face and the flash of the pale skin of his throat as he moved. His hair was still messy, spilling carelessly over his forehead.

The idea of talking to him was a bit daunting. The all black get-up didn't help either.

He looked like a killer.

I'd seen him kill before, it shouldn't have been surprising. But now, there was no mistaking him for a friendly guy. I was almost scared of him. If he found out about chat with the FBI...Nice guy or not: if he found out, I really was dead.