A few minutes later.

The Kia screamed in protest as the dirt road narrowed, the rain pelting down so hard the windshield wipers gave up on life. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel, but Gregor was worse—his entire body radiated that dangerous, simmering heat. His eyes had gone molten gold, glowing even in the dimness of the storm.

And then—without warning—he moved.

Gregor threw the door open, launched himself out of the still-moving Kia, and mid-air his body shattered into ...