Zara hovered above the fiery remains of Finn’s car. “She’s checking out the explosion. Maybe she’ll think some of us were in the car. . . .” My words trailed off.

The copter smoothly rotated in a controlled circle, like a roulette wheel. Where she stops, nobody knows.

Carousel. Roulette. Tourniquet.

Symbols. Waypoints . . .

The copter stopped swiveling, the creepy nose pointing straight at us. “Floor it!” I cried. “They’ve seen us.” The nose dipped down as the copter accelerated.

Gabriel’s black wings twitched. “What’s that sound?”

I blinked, disbelieving my eyes. “She’s fired a missile!”

“Hold on, sievā.” Aric’s intent look scared the hell out of me.

I faced forward. “Cars, Aric.” A pair of wrecks were too close to each other—no way he could squeeze through that tight opening. Yet he accelerated as he headed right for them. His expression was cold focus, his jaw clenched.

Oh. Shit.

“Out of me way!” Joules cried, scrambling for the door.

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Falcon in his arms, Finn dove for the back.

Joules lengthened a javelin. Before I could warn him, he’d cracked open the back door and tried to lob a bolt—

Metal on metal shrieked. Side mirrors tore away. A shower of sparks lit the night, and the door slammed shut on Joules; his javelin recoiled and jabbed Gabriel’s wing.

Zara’s missile struck the wreck on the left, sending pieces high in the sky. Aric dodged a plummeting wheel. An axle.

From the third-row seat, Finn said, “Sick driving, dude!”

Joules sputtered, “You tryin’ to get me killed?” He collapsed his spear. “Gabe, you all right?”

“I will be fine anon.”

“Shut up and make yourself useful,” Aric told Joules. “What’s your range?”

Shoulders back, he replied, “Far enough.”

“Whatever it is, they’ll know the distance from your previous attacks—so she’ll never fly within that range. If she fires again, you’re going to have to hit the missile.” Aric pushed a button on the dash, and the extended moon roof opened above us. “Let it get close before you strike it.”

“Feck me, you want me to nail a speeding target? From a speeding target?”

Aric sighed. “Do try to get the javelin out of the vehicle this time.”

Joules’s eyes went wide, his face sparking with rage. “Oh, you bloody—”

“Tower, let us remain on point,” Gabriel interrupted.

Aric glanced back at Joules. “Give some to the Archangel.”

“Nobody but me can throw these and make them go boom.”

I said, “Actually . . .”

Joules shrugged and tossed Gabriel a couple of batons; then he popped up through the moon roof. “That’s right—give the Lord o’ Lightnin’ some room.” He created another javelin, then rolled his head on his neck.

Aric said, “Archangel, blast cars. Often. We need other heat targets.”

With a nod, Gabriel stood up in the backseat beside Joules, his furled wings fluttering.

When the copter jerked and smoke puffed from the bottom, I said, “I think she just—”

“—fired another!” Gabriel finished.

“Jaysus, incoming!”

Gabriel and Joules bombed every car we passed, but the missile was still on our ass and closing fast.

“Take it out, Tower,” Gabriel said. “Now!”

Joules hurled a javelin . . . it zoomed away . . . An explosion behind us! “Pegged that fecker!”

Even Aric appeared surprised.

Joules cackled with delight. “And I’ve still got time to moon her. You think me arse’ll show up on her infrared?” The streetwise bruiser was back.

“Missile!” Gabriel said.

Joules hurled another javelin . . . and took that one out as well! “I can do this all night, Fortune!”

If we could stay alive long enough, we might get her to blow her entire arsenal.

“Conserve some power,” Aric said. “She might send two next time.”

By the light of the fires, I could see the copter falling back. “Why’s she slowing down?”

“To give her missiles time to accelerate. The Tower won’t be able to hit them at full speed.” Aric caught my gaze. “When I give a signal, I want you to leap from this car.”

“No! If you go out, I go too. That was the deal. Tell Joules how to do that lightning field.”

Joules ducked down. “What lightning field?”

Aric gritted his teeth. “And when he wields that power against us?”

“Kick the can down the road, Aric! We’ll deal with that later.”

“Roll before you hit,” he told me. “Then run for water.”

“What are you talking about—”

He reached over me to yank open my door.

A vine shot out from my forefinger, and I lashed myself to the oh-shit handle. “Don’t even think about it!”

He slammed the door. “Stubborn woman!” He made a sound of frustration, then asked Joules, “Can you throw two javelins with accuracy?”

“In me sleep.”

“Throw a pair to land at the exact same time, about a hundred feet apart. Lightning will combust between them. If you are as accurate as you say.”

“No shite?” Joules got into position.

“You can do this,” Gabriel told him. “You must.”

The Tower took several rapid breaths, then lobbed a pair of javelins at the same time. . . . The bolts landed, but nothing unusual happened.