Get ready to drive, Kaya, she tells me, and then she is striding back down the street. Breaking into a jog.
Cassie leans through the gap between the passenger seat and the driver seat. She says, Who is that ? And what is she going to do ?
I don’t know.
It doesn’t take more than one minute to find out.
I hear the crack of a gunshot down the block. The sound of a man screaming.
In the rearview mirror, I see Veah running back.
Quick ! Cassie says. Didn’t she say to get ready to drive ?
Shit, I say, fumbling to unbuckle my seat belt and crawling into the driver’s seat. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Veah opens the car door, breathing hard, and says, You said you wanted to drive ? Drive.
I slam down on the gas pedal.
Feel free to go over the speed limit, Veah adds. There are going to be cops chasing us at any moment, and you probably wouldn’t want to add breaking out of prison to your list of crimes.
Someone please tell me what’s going on ! Cassie says, as my grip on the steering wheel turns white-knuckled.
Which one of us ? I ask, making sure I’m not about to run anyone over.
Cassie throws her hands in the air. Anyone !
Veah says, Where should I start ?
With whatever you just did to our stepdad !
I broke his arm. Calm. Casual.
And the gunshot ?
He fired at me. I crushed the bones in his right hand. Now he’ll be lucky to pick up a spoon, much less shoot a gun.
Breathless, Cassie says something that surprises me-she says, Good.
Um, where am I driving us to, exactly ? I say, as we weave through downtown Louisiana traffic.
Small detour, says Veah. New Orleans.
New Orleans ? What the hell is in New Orleans ?
Veah’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.
Storm and slate. Danger-there is pure, calculating danger there.
The Underground, Veah says. I’m assuming you’ve heard of it ?
I want to ask why she thinks I have any clue what the hell the Underground is. But I keep my mouth shutCassie is in the backseat, and her face is buried in her palms.
Cassie ? I call back, flicking my eyes through the rearview mirror. You . . . are you alright ?
Of course I’m not alright ! she shrieks. You just told Gavin you were in the Mafia, you have a gun, and we’re in the car with someone who talks about breaking bones as easily as the weather report !
My name is Veah, if that helps.
It doesn’t help ! my sister says, and she screams into her cupped palms.
Veah lets out a low chuckle, and it’s so endearing I almost crash into the car in front of us.
Idiot. I almost got into a car accident for a cute girl.
I need to snap out of it. She’s not just a cute girlshe’s the lethal ex-Yakuza boss who got me into this mess.
Cassie looks up, like something just occurred to her. Veah what ? What’s your last name ?
My gaze drifts sideways. Good question.
What is Veah’s last name ?
Heaven Tanaka, Veah says, almost reluctantly. My full name.
It’s almost like she’s expecting us to . . . recognize it.
But I don’tso I only shake my head, focusing back on the road.
It’s going to be a long drive to New Orleans.
Are you sure this is it ?
I glance up at the old, run-down apartment building. We are currently standing in a cold alleyway. Shadows skitter across the brick like insects, and my arms prickle with the feeling of being watched.
Veah doesn’t answershe just opens the door.
I don’t think you’re allowed to trespass into
Kaya, shut up, Cassie whispers.
I hear the ghostlike echo of Veah’s laughter, and I scowl.
Following rules is good, I say, following Veah and Cassie into the dark apartment building. Following rules keeps the order.
There is a receptionist standing behind the corner of a sleek black desk.
How may I help you ? she says, and she looks . . . professional. Polished. Like she should be working in a five-star hotel and not thiswhatever this is.
Veah doesn’t say a word.
Recognition dawns bright on the receptionist’s face.
Miss Tanaka, I’ll inform the Alpha that the Cais are here for a meeting right away
I’m not here with the Cais.