Chapter 23

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The bedroom door slammed open, the abrupt interruption jogging me from sleep.

"Rise and shine." Penelope cackled. "It's time to see your boyfriends." Her lips curved condescendingly.

I rubbed my face, still acclimating to being awakened suddenly.

"I'd apologize for scaring you, but I'm not."

She grabbed my arm forcefully and pulled me up. Her mood had darkened, my fear of her officially growing. She pulled me into the living area, grabbed her dagger, and continued pulling me out of the apartment. The position of the sun told me it was probably around nine in the morning, and by the looks of the scenery, we were still somewhere around the lake. It made sense that Zander would live near Sandpoint. The Hunters moved here nine years ago, which would be around the same time Zander was turned, but it was still unbelievable that one of them would do that. Wes had described the transition from human to immortal, and it sounded awful for both involved. There was more to the story, and if I could figure it out, then maybe Penelope would stop all this.

"Get in," she snapped.

She drove a newer model Mazda Miata. I slid in and got my leg out of the way just before she slammed the door closed. She revved the engine and swung out of the apartment complex. Daring a glance over, I could see her jaw clenching. I needed to get her talking again.

"Fancy car." I smoothed my hand along the pristine dashboard, pretending to admire it.

"I have friends, too," she answered smartly.

I shuddered to think what friends she kept. Working at the bistro would definitely not pay for this. Of course, now I knew that was just a ruse so she could keep tabs on us.

"Where are we going?"

"To a remote location for a little family reunion." She chuckled lowly, sending chills down my spine.

Her dagger was within reach, tucked into her belt, but judging from the other night when she tried to grab me before Elijah showed up, she was fast. I wondered if speed was her gift.

"What's your gift?" she asked me abruptly, as if reading my thoughts.

"What makes you think I have one?"

She picked up speed on the freeway. Traffic was light in between rush hours, but there were still enough cars on the road to alert how fast we were going.

"Don't play games with me. The Order doesn't want just anybody. I've only ever brought back Specials."

I sank in my seat, not exactly sure how much I should tell her. I didn't want to tell her anything, but she was angry, and who knew what she would do if I pushed her too far?

"It's stupid." I tried to blow it off.

"No gift is worthless."

I chewed on my finger nervously. "I have good instincts."

"That's a pretty impressive gift," she admired.

"How so?"

"Instincts are primal. Ancestral. Ingrained in your DNA. Most people are too self-centered to connect with their instincts, and those that aren't usually ignore them because they are selfish. But if someone were able to harness their instincts—to become one with their true nature and tap into their ancestry—their power is limitless. You're not just a Special, Abigail. You're a Chosen, which makes you invaluable."

My stomach turned. I had just given her more ammunition. How could I be such an idiot? So much for great instincts. "What's the difference?" I pressed for more information. She was the first person to go into detail.

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