Free Charmed and Dangerous by Toni McGee Causey Page A

into view above them all, and Bobbie Faye met Trevor’s grim expression.
    “Goddammit, lady, you owe me. Big.”
    He floored the truck, and Bobbie Faye bounced against the dash, slamming her wrist into it, and accidentally firedthe gun, blowing a hole in the floorboard. Instantly, before she had fully righted herself, bullets ripped into the tailgate, coming from somewhere behind them.
    “Not the
truck
! Sonofabitch. This is getting personal.”
    And then he did the thing that made her realize barging into his truck might not have been such a clever idea after all: he started shooting back at the yuppie guy running after them.
    “Stop doing that! You could hurt someone!”
    “
You
shot at
me,
” he reminded her.
    “Did not. I shot your
truck
.”
    She ignored his glare. He probably would have followed through on the threat to throw her out, except he was flying down side streets in the same general direction the Saab had taken. Contraband Days Festival banners were strung across the street from lamppost to lamppost. People had already turned out by the dozens, dressed up in pirate costumes with fake swords, beers and soft drinks in hand. Bobbie Faye yelped as Trevor wheeled around a curve and almost plowed into a batch of schoolkids crossing the street.
    Trevor spun the truck in a sharp right turn and she slammed up against him. (And damn, guys aren’t supposed to smell good in the middle of running for your life, are they?) Before she could sit up to see just where they were, his bicep tensed against her cheek. He nearly elbowed her to death as he spun the wheel, avoiding something she couldn’t see as he punched the gas. She gawked at the view out of the windshield as the truck suddenly angled up, going airborne, Trevor laying on the horn to scatter pedestrians.
    The truck landed. Hard. Inside something red. It was one of the parked parade floats waiting in the prep area.
    “We just landed in a crawfish,” she said helpfully.
    “Thank you. I noticed that.” He didn’t sound particularly appreciative.
    Two cop cars sped past, and she considered the red pincers around them and appreciated that they were camouflaged. But only briefly, because a helluva lot of pissed off Cajuns started emerging from various floats in the prep area,including the float they were straddling, searching around for someone’s ass to kick. Bobbie Faye scanned past the chaos, the cops, and the crazed pirate wannabes running around, past the roadblock created by the logjam of the first floats which had already begun traveling down the parade route.
    And then she saw it: the Saab, trying to extricate itself from the same unholy mess, just a few blocks away.
    “Hot
damn,
there they are. We’ve gotta hurry.”
    Trevor gaped at her as if she couldn’t be serious, and when he made no move to hurry, she hit the low-wheel-drive gear and stomped on Trevor’s accelerator.
    The truck dug down into the bed of the float, grabbing traction, and Trevor had to manhandle the steering wheel to keep control, all while blowing the horn to warn bystanders on the sidewalk to get the hell out of the way. The truck climbed off the float fast, dragging a good portion of the rest of the crawfish with them for a couple of blocks, causing everyone to stampede.
    Everyone except the cops, who tried to U-turn and get back to them, but who were slowed by the floats lumbering out of the giant crawfish-truck’s way. Bobbie Faye grabbed for the steering wheel when Trevor started turning away from the Saab. He wrestled it back, pointing to the passenger side.
    “You,” he seethed. “Stay over there.”
    “You don’t know what you’re doing!”
    From the fury radiating from him, she decided maybe sitting in the passenger seat wasn’t so bad an idea after all.
    He glared at her, muttering, “One quick shot to the head, no one would have been the wiser.”
    She pretended not to hear him, peered out the back window, and almost seizured when she saw just how many