Collide by Christine Fonseca Read Free Book Online Page A

leaving only an ever-present threat.
    She clenched her teeth, compelled to both retreat and move forward. The lights in the house blackened and Mari came outside. She hopped into her car and sped down the empty street. Whoever she’d been texting had certainly gotten her attention.
    The Architect turned the key and the sedan’s engine purred to life. She turned the car around and followed. The sky had blackened now, nothing but inky darkness punctuated with the yellow-orange glow of the street lights. This would be easier now that night had descended and the streets had emptied.
    The car sped up the hills behind Mari’s house, taking the turns faster and faster. The Architect followed, oblivious to her surroundings. She narrowed in on Mari. The Architect saw the inside of the car, the dark grey vinyl, Mari’s iPhone lodged in the cup-holder next to her, the music pounding from the old speakers. A deep sob escaped Mari’s throat as she blinked back an endless river of tears.
    I’ll end your misery , the Architect thought. She closed the gap between the cars, her thoughts never leaving Mari’s.
    The Architect pushed into Mari’s mind and watched the phone light up and vibrate. Mari focused on the road and the hairpin turn just ahead. The phone vibrated again. The Architect compelled Mari’s hand to grab the shaking metal. Mari resisted, her forehead wrinkling with the strain. Again the Architect pushed, and again Mari resisted.
    The Architect carved deeper into Mari’s thoughts, taking them as her own. Tears poured over Mari’s cheeks. “ No ” filled her mind as her arm shook.
    “I’m sorry,” the Architect said as she forced herself past Mari’s pain and urged her to again reach for her phone.
    The Architect pressed the accelerator, absorbing the power of her car as it caught up and hugged the Honda’s bumper. Mari continued to block the invasion, her arm cramping with the effort.
    The Architect doubled her efforts. “Grab the phone,” she screamed in the empty car while she pictured Mari’s hand on the phone. “Grab it now!”
    The Architect looked through Mari’s eyes, noting the turn coming too fast. Their hearts pounded in unison. She forced Mari’s head to the right. Mari’s skull squeezed around her and tightened from the attack. Controlling her arms at last, the Architect forced Mari to pick up the phone. Mari’s eyes focused away from the road as she fixated on the illuminated text.
    Mari’s head, arm, hand shook. Her heart beat faster and faster. Uneven breaths turned into fear-laced pants. She forced her will on the Architect, desperate to regain control. But it was no use. The Architect had trained for almost as many years as she had lived. She had too much experience, too many other victims she’d claimed for the Order.
    The Architect kept Mari’s gaze glued to the phone. The car plowed through the barricade and skidded across the low scrub brush and dirt.
    The Architect released her hold, an echo of Mari’s fear still lodged deep within her. Mari spun the steering wheel. Her sight filled with the image of the cliff just ahead. The Architect left Mari’s thoughts, slammed on the brakes of the black sedan and watched as the girl’s car careened off the cliff.
    The Architect’s car fishtailed to a stop. She opened the door and walked to the cliff’s edge. Sparks snapped to life as the car scrapped along the jagged rocks below. Flames quickly engulfed the car, casting an orange glow on the thick smoke rising into the air.
    She inhaled a ragged breath. A decade of tension began to leave her neck and shoulders. The end would be here soon. She would finish her tasks, prove herself to the Creator, and take her rightful position in the Order. Finally.
    Stretching hers arms and back, she walked to her car. Mari’s picture stared up at her. She clutched the weathered paper and rubbed her finger across the smiling face. “I’m sorry, Mari. There was nothing else that could be done.” The