Cadeon had reluctantly agreed to meet Rydstrom at their customary place north of New Orleans with the payment in tow, but Rydstrom still had half an hour to reach him. There was plenty of time for Cadeon to back out-if he hadn't already.

At that thought, Rydstrom floored the gas, surging to one hundred and sixty miles per hour. Not fast enough. He would give his right hand to be able to trace once more. Yet Omort had bound that teleportation power in him and in Cadeon. Rydstrom had never felt as frus­trated by that curse as right now. So much at stake.

Yes, Cadeon had already found the prize. But he would not be keen to give it up.

He'll run. Rydstrom had to get to him before he could. Long moments passed with him deep in thought over his brother. Knowing Cadeon would let him down, he accelerated even more. One seventy . . .

Rydstrom would die for his people. Why wouldn't Cadeon-

Eyes stared back at him in the headlights. Not an animal, a woman.

He slammed on the brakes and swerved, the vehicle skidding out of control.

* * *

The screech of tires peeled out into the night as the demon's sports car began to spin wildly. But somehow he was righting it.

"He's pulling it back." Lanthe sounded impressed. Sabine raised her hands and muttered, "I don't think so, demon." Just when he appeared to gain control, she shifted the vision of the road, obscuring the bridge abutment to his sight. He sped directly into it.

An explosion of sound erupted-the groaning of metal, the shattering of glass. Smoke tendrils snaked upward, and gaskets hissed. The previously shining black car was totaled.