I tighten my grip around his neck and choke the air from his lungs. Just when he starts to go blue, Ithrow him back onto the snow. He gasps for breath as I turn and leave him behind me.
I swing up into the jeep next to Willow, then tap the side. “Let’s get the f**k out of here.”
Gaiman floors the gas pedal, the engine roars to life, and we rip away down the mountain pass.
The moment we’re free and clear of the Mikhailov men, I turn to the beautiful new problem sitting onthe seat next to me.
Willow slowly turns to face me. Anger burns in her eyes, but it isn’t the firecracker it used to be,burning hot and fast. Looking in her blue eyes now is like looking into the mouth of a volcano. Theheat is steady and controlled, but deep. Unending.
“Your child,” she smirks. “Fun
