Led to the Slaughter

[Auro Syrdash]

Requiring the willing suspension of her disbelief though it did, Austin watched through her rear-view mirror as the Nowhere Bar & Grill vanished from the very clearing they were now speeding away from. Moments ago, she had felt magickal energy from the car surging through her as it drove itself. Now, she had full control of the wheel, the gas, and therefore their destination. There seemed little choice but to return to Priest Brothers’ Meat Packing. After all, Erica Fisher's company car remained in the parking lot, and Austin knew her employer would be very cross if she abandoned it.

In the front passenger seat, Melissa sulked. She hadn't exactly been on board with the plan to ditch Henry Atlas at the Nowhere Bar & Grill, but who could blame her? It's not like anyone had asked for her opinion. Sure, she had left the bar to wait at the car when she heard the word “magick” one too many times, but was it necessary to ditch their strongest, most capable ally on some half-baked whim? Was she the only one sane here? She knew that answer, and she didn't like it one bit. She had no interest in some magickal joyride, she was there for Kira. She didn't have to remind herself.

Seated in the middle of the backseat and thus sandwiched between Al and Kira, Marla turned around and craned her neck to stare at the night sky through the broad rear window. Being on the outskirts of L.A. afforded her the opportunity to see far more stars than usual. There was something both comforting and heart-wrenching about that, but Marla couldn't look away; she didn't want to. Pain wasn't the worst thing one could experience. Seeing the bright pinpricks dotting the firmament gave her hope that all was not lost. Maybe she would finally find what she was looking for.

As they sped down the dark road, Kira couldn't help but feel her heart still racing. The others couldn't have ditched Henry Atlas without her. She had distracted him long enough for Marla to create a diversion. She had every right to be proud of herself, and she knew it. The others needed her. Tobin Meyers had told her she was special, and now she knew what he had meant. Still, she couldn't shake the visions from her head. There was the golden calf beneath a shady tree, the bleeding Hollywood sign, and two giant angels singing about "special orders." What did it all mean?

Also in the backseat, Al had wedged himself into his corner behind the passenger seat. In one of his fingerless-gloved hands, he held his little Coke bottle filled with whiskey. It had been his idea to boost Fido, and despite his apparent intoxication, he’d managed to explain why. None of the four ladies he accompanied could help but wonder what was really up with Al. True, he was nice enough (for an alcoholic). And he knew his stuff. And he had a cat, a nice cat. He couldn’t be too evil or dangerous if he had such a great cat. Mr. Kitty purred in his lap as Al stared vacantly into space.