"We can follow." I agreed, not realizing that I'd refered to myself in a plural until I said it. But hte others just thoguht I meant them so I didn't fill them in on my continuing insanity.
                              
"So we're hunting down an echo of her twin that no one else can see, and hope it leads us in the right direction?" Luka demanded incredulously, the only one seeming to not just buy into the supernatural angle still. I couldn't keep fighting against it when I could literally feel my twin's humanity slip away.
                              
"What would you have us do Luka? Right now we need to get a move on, anything that goes bump in the night just heard a dinner bell as far as they're concerned." Andros grunted.
                              
"It can't be that bad." Luka scoffed, huffing a little as he had to carry my weight again. He's strong but never really thinks about fitness, and with the amount of crud I've seen him smoke, I knew his lungs were shotty.
                              
"For your sake, I hope you're right." Caleb muttered darkly, following Andros out as the tattooed man led the way with his gun. Caleb was hauling hte bags, letting Andros take point and Ixchel came along behind, locking the door.
                              
Ixchel directed Luka to settle me into the passenger seat. Whatever strange senses I had that let me track my brother's fading trail worked best if I could physically see where it lead. Luka, Caleb and Andros all piled into the back of Ixchel's van and we started to drive. Anyone following us had to wonder just what the hell we'd been drinking, the trail I had us follow weaved around and took random turns as Ixchel narrowed down the area Dante had passed through. Quickly we figured out that the center area was the hotel they'd stayed in, and the rest fanned out to entertainment locations and the airport. The clubs had a less strong feel to them, the ghost of my twin's passage was fainter.
                              
"They left Paris." I stated, voice weak. Caleb grunted, having already expected this, and Luka cursed. Andros just leaned forward in his seat and stroked a finger along my jaw, making me shiver as the Hunger bucked inside, held in place by the cuffs. His hand was knocked away from me as Caleb 'accidentally' shifted and thumped Andros into the side of the van. The new gang member chuckled in his chest, setteling into his seat. Ignoring the Hunger howling in my blood, I tried to figure out what the hell Andros was up to?
                              
Either he was interested in me and had no clue how to save it for private moments, or he was deliberately trying to provoke Caleb. And the gang leader was not the sort of guy you pissed off lightly. He radiated a confident violence, and I had seen him quell bigger men with a few quiet words, so if Andros was looking for a fight, he'd get one. I also didn't understand Caleb's.... possessiveness. He didn't want the others to know he'd finger banged me on my birthday, but he also wasn't gonig to let Andros court me. So did Caleb want me for his own and just hadn't made his move yet? Or was he being a collosal asshole and screwing with me because 'I was one of his?'
                              
"Valentine, you ok?" Ixchel asked me, pulling my thoguhts back to the now.
                              
"I'm handcuffed, in Paris, hunting my twin down and really really Hungry. Yes, I'm perfectly alright, how are you?" I replied sarcastically.
                              
Luka snorted. "Yep, she's fine." he muttered, knowing that I reverted to sarcasim as my usual approach to problems.
                              
"So do we head to the airport and try to figure out which flight he..." Andros was asking Ixchel when suddenly the van jolted to the side with a crunch of metal.
                              
The accident was over before I really understood what was happening. I could hear  the engine tick as it was cooling, and a slap of rubber where the wheel was turning aimlessly. I blinked, wondering why things looked wrong when it hit me, we were lying on our sides. The van had tipped and rolled, and when we landed, it was on the passenger side. The window next to me had broken, glass shattered and scattered, the cement a rough pillow just next to my face. I was held in place by the seatbelt, and grateful for the pain it caused across my chest and shoulder. Without it I would have been turned into paste.