Free Thunder Road (Rain Chaser Book 1) by Sierra Dean

near the Wyoming border, I think mostly because he was getting sick of me fidgeting in the seat next to him. The second I got into the driver’s seat I popped a cassette into the deck before he could stop me. Bon Jovi started to sing “Livin’ on a Prayer.” I could tell he wanted to argue, but when I pulled my hand back from the tape deck, he didn’t eject it.
    I’d take my victories where I found them. I knew there was a reason I kept tapes in my purse in case my adapter crapped out.
    Just over the Colorado border, our good luck ran out.
    I should have known it was only a matter of time, considering who my copilot was, but I thought perhaps we might get a pass on the bad tidings since he wasn’t actively working a job.
    A flat tire was the first sign the tides were shifting in an unfortunate way.
    That we got the flat on a barren strip of highway, miles from any assistance, was the next sign of ill tidings.
    I pulled the car over to the side of the road, and we got out, assessing the damage. We’d been driving for over fourteen hours, and the mounting stress of our situation was starting to wear on both of us. At least that’s what I told myself when Cade took one look at the flat tire and snarled.
    He didn’t use actual words to express his annoyance, but as he went to the trunk and started rifling around—I assumed for the spare tire—he kept making irritated grunting noises, like the English language didn’t have any sufficient turns of phrase to get his point across.
    When he returned with the donut spare and a jack, I moved to take the tire from him, but he elbowed me out of the way a little too roughly, sending me staggering back a few steps to the guardrail.
    That was the last straw.
    “ Hey .” I came back up to his side, where he was now crouched next to the flat, setting up the jack. He pretended not to hear me and continued working, his entire focus fixated on the car. “Dude, drop the macho act. It’s not impressing anyone.”
    He was on his feet in a flash, suddenly mere inches from me, breathing hard.
    Oops.
    “This is not an act . This is not me trying to impress you.” His voice was low and vaguely threatening, but something deep inside my body went tight, and goose bumps erupted on my arms in spite of the sticky-hot night air. He was much, much too close to me.
    “Sorry.”
    Cade gave me a hard stare, and we stood there for a moment, neither daring to move an inch, sharing the same breath as we struggled to decide exactly what this standoff was meant to prove. Finally he yielded with a frustrated snort and went back to the jack.
    “Hand me the tire iron.” He held out his hand.
    As far as I could tell, this was the closest thing I was going to get to friendliness, so I collected the tire iron from the trunk. I was about to return to him when the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
    Whatever it was I was sensing, I wasn’t the only one. Cade froze, his hands on the jack but not moving, as though he was worried any minor adjustment might make him lose what he was listening for.
    “Do you feel that?” he asked, turning his attention to me. His voice was so quiet it almost carried away on the breeze before reaching my ears.
    I nodded, my grip tightening on the tire iron. The sun was hanging low, dipping behind the tree line, creating a moody, cool light. Still miles off, a line of clouds had begun to build, marring the previously clear sky. They weren’t a sign of Seth’s arrival, just normal clouds, yet their presence soothed me slightly.
    If something was coming for us, it would help to have a source for me to draw power from. I really didn’t want to channel lightning again so soon, not after two such intense encounters yesterday. My body wasn’t a machine. I needed rest and recuperation. If I maintained this pace, I was going to shave twenty years off my life expectancy before we reached Louisiana.
    Cade was standing again, coming towards me. When he was by my side, I