Many years later, as they faced the congested capillaries of a project gone on far too long

  together,

  always together,

  and together forevermore,

  Opal and Dante kept themselves busy cussing out whatever nearby cars were ready and willing to take it as they sat in the sweltering heat of a classic San Diego traffic jam. On their own, Dante and Opal were fine enough drivers and stand-up citizens, but if you put them in a car together expect all hell to break loose and toss in a couple breath mints for Opal’s sake. You must forgive our dear lovebirds, it’s just that sitting stagnant in cars was a deeply rooted fear for the both of them.

  In fact, 83% of all Dante and Opal adventures begin with them sitting stagnant in a car. And of the 74% of those Dante was the one at the wheel, but Opal, bless her heart, she takes care not to mention that bit, and so they stand, together and united against whatever evils may be lurking in the cars that beep and honk around them. Now, I’ll be honest with you, Dante and Opal did most certainly have a good few nasty run-ins early on in their adventuring careers, enough in frequency and ghastliness to warrant their absolute hatred for sitting still in traffic, but they do kind of go a little overboard with the road rage, and unbeknownst to either of them, over the course of their lifetime a good 78% of these car related escapades were caused by their very own rudeness.

  In fact, that’s how Dr. Lichter, many months after having been resurrected, came to notice them in the hot San Diego traffic that day. Their front windows down with three middle fingers emerging from each as they raged against a suspicious looking white van. Awestruck by the sight and upon closer inspection remembered their transgression, Dr. Lichter declared he would one day see his vengeance, and place butterscotch sweets on each of their graves. He always failed, and it’d be many years more before he too would be sitting at a famous Williams’ family cookout, revealing to our lovebirds as they sat curled up in beach chair beneath the sun, how he first came to hate them on that hot San Diego summer day. Opal and Dante laughed as he finished his retelling, blaming their road rage on the heat. Dr. Lichter would take out a handkerchief and dab at a too moist forehead before looking up at the sky, ultimately agreeing that the sun was a most nefarious instigator indeed.

  And so Dante and Opal didn’t realize just how good they had it as they inched closer and closer together in the backseat of Opal’s All Black Escapade, with the ever dutiful Varin at the wheel, as the cooling downpour was now upon them, and Dante saw through muddied windows the ominous glow of a world he’d done all too good a job of ignoring. The immense joys and miseries to be found within Jaxon City. Every building was alight, and cars, those still on the ground, moved about with a steady quickness, like the drive itself was this perfect symphony and each vehicle was a note carefully arranged on the sheet, playing their part before departing and being replaced by someone new. Dante wondered how many of the cars, flying or not, held a crew that was as strange as theirs. And he couldn’t help but wonder how many of those strange crews were out wanting their blood.

  Dante leaned his head against the back of his seat, and let out a long breath, trying not to drown himself in the sea of lights around him, nor fizzle out with the hum of hovercraft zipping through the air above them. With his eyes still closed he leaned his face over to Opal, quietly asking, “So, where are we going from here?”

  Opal, though excited to be giving the tour to Dante, still saw the anxious rigidity of his face, and tried to continue easing him into things. She pulled out her phone, and pulled up a map of Jaxon City, zooming into long stretching strands of grey that would combine and congest themselves into a a great big ball Opal called Spaghetti Junction. She pointed at a thick band of highway that continued just past the major ball.

  “We’re here.” She flicked her finger across the screen, moving them across the map as she stole glances at Dante’s face, perfectly illuminated in the glow of her phone. She tapped her finger twice on their destination, “We need to go here. Archbishop Voltaire lives here, and we need to tell him about our engagement as soon as possible.”

  Dante furrowed his brows, “So are we married or are we engaged?”

  “Ay cabron! What’s it matter?”

  Opal shook her head, “It’s complicated. We’re essentially married, but we haven’t had our ceremony yet. Ceasefires are always held until the wedding is over. So, yes. But also we’re kind of engaged. There’s another step we have to do. And once the Archbishop knows of our engagement, we’ll all be safe. At least until the wedding is over.”

  “And after the wedding is over?”

  Opal looked out the window, a lump in her throat grew so big you’d have to call it Adam, and she forced the gulp down. She stretched her face into the best smile she could manage, looked over at Dante and said, “We’ll have our next move figured out by then.”

  Dante, not wanting to give away just how terrified Opal’s face was making him right now, simply nodded his head and asked Varin if he could put some music on. Varin nodded, and started clicking away at the radio, completely unaware of what buttons did what.

  Opal took a lock of hair and replaced it behind her ear, returning to her presentation before she’d been so rudely interrupted, “The fastest way to get there is what we’re doing now. Going by car. Should be a sure thing.”

  Dante leaned forward, placing a hand on the back of Varin’s headrest, “What’re the odds that your buddy already told this Archbishop? We might already be safe.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Varin shook his head, “Doubt it. Them walking into the room and not immediately going to town was the last favor we’ll probably share between the two of us. To do anything more than that would be bona fide treason. Opal’s surviving family is hunkered down in secret locations, we have no contacts, none that we could trust not to lie to us about the Archbishop’s knowledge of the proposal. The smart move here is to inform the Archbishop ourselves.”

  Dante relaxed a bit. To him, they were just a car ride away from salvation, and they’d have all the time in the world before the wedding to figure this out.

  Opal’s eyebrows scrunched up a bit, “Varin? How safe do you think we are taking the car?”

  Varin looked up into the rearview mirror, meeting Opal’s eye, before returning. After a few moments longer he shrugged. “What else would be safer? If they find us on foot, they find us on foot. If they find us in a car, we’re in a fucking car.”

  “True.” Opal sat back and tried to let her mind rest a bit. The nap earlier had been nice, but it wasn’t anything filling. The moment the Archbishop was informed it wouldn't be all that unlikely for her to pass out right then and there, but there was something that was tugging at her mind. Like there was something that she meant to say, or something that she had forgotten to bring. She couldn’t for the hell of her figure out what it was, and all she knew was that there was something she was missing.

  Dante, feeling right as rain with a hot babe by his hip and a badass vampire assassin at the wheel, he asked Opal what she could possibly be worrying about now. She shook her head, claiming it was nothing and swept away Dante’s teasing her to tell him. Instead, she looked out the window, hoping the passing sights would be enough to distract her. Jaxon City was a city of distractions. Whether you’re walking, driving, and/or flying, very important people have determined that, that is the prime time to tell you about all the products you should be buying. Opal propped an arm up on the windowsill and rested her face against the cool glass as she watched the murky radiance of the advertisements through the rain. Even better, were the designs of cars passing in the left lanes.

  Long ago, many Jaxonians came together and argued, that if the powers that be got to wave their shiny lights around at the people all day, and they were making fuckwack of money while they did it, the people should at least be able to shine little lights of their own. And, after some lobbying, and a few violent protests out by City Hall, the people eventually got their way, and they were free to decorate their cars as they desired. And the descendants of these car art enthusiasts wore their heritage with pride as they blinded everyone on the commute home from work. Most of the less flamboyant drivers of Jaxon City soon got over the languor of their new freedom, and tired of the never ending displays, but not Opal. She still enjoyed them, some were really creative. She once saw a light design that made a flying Jericho 3000 look like a flying carpet as it zipped through the air.

  None of the cars around her looked that cool though, these were typical. Fancy to maybe Dante, but to a well-seasoned car art connoisseur, this was light work. Nothing worth turning a head to. One of the cars had a neat, zombified Hello Kitty display that covered its passenger side and was kind of interesting. But that was about it. In fact, the lights made the more typical cars stand out even more, and that’s when Opal first noticed them.

  That scratch that was in the back of her head blazed into a full blown itch powder melt down. She thought back on the day. This one very unusual day, and tried to hide the quiver in her voice as she urged it to say the next words as clear as possible, “Varin, how did they know I was taking that exam? How did they know we were at Dante’s apartment?”

  Varin looked back for a moment, the gears of his own mind beginning to turn, as he took a quick glance around at the surrounding traffic, looking for any signs of danger.

  He saw none, because the danger was still half a mile behind them, and catching up fast. Twin stokes of exhaust shat out a duo of flames as a Ventura X-Deluxe was weaving in and out of traffic. The hands at the wheel, belonging to a Jakob Rivera. His knuckles bore white against the leather of his steering wheel, and the twin set of dice he had hanging from his mirror he ripped down and threw in the passenger seat, not wanting anything to obscure his view. His eyes went down to the tracker that he had placed on Opal’s car a week or so before shit started hitting the fan. And, if he’d heard correctly, Opal Sanchez was officially engaged, which gave him prime opportunity to go ahead and off the bitch. Something he’d been wanting to do for years now. He, regrettably, cannot say that he properly hated her from the start. It wasn’t until his father, excuse me, His Dutiful (ugh) first proposed that he and Opal should get married that he wanted to hurry up and get rid of her.

  Without need for more detail, Jakob had no intentions of marrying Opal Sanchez, and each day he grew older, His Dutiful became more and more bothersome about his marriage proposal. Jakob, almost lost in the recollection, swerved to dodge an upcoming car as he remembered the time his father actually went over him and sent Opal’s family the proposal. In retrospect, Jakob couldn’t be too mad at his old man, when asked he said all the things he thought his old man had expected him to. Opal was beautiful, even he could see that. And she was smart. Which is why she was sent away to college, and his days were filled with simply trying not to fuck up his father’s business, and few days came easier than others.

  This would be a good day, Jakob thought as he kept pushing his way through traffic, getting ever closer to his target, as he smiled, wicked and crazed, ready to be done with his Opal problem once and for all. But even that upset him, he knew that as soon as Opal was no longer on the menu, it was only a matter of time until His Dutiful would have a nice runner up picked out, and then Jakob would have to focus on getting rid of them too. Now, Jakob ain’t the smartest tool in the shed, but even he knows better than to tackle a problem that ain’t there yet. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he bolstered himself, ensuring he was dead set on completing the task at hand, and making sure the name Opal Sanchez was never paired with his own ever again.

  The car that held Opal, Dante, and our oh so professional Varin was now supremely suspicious. Every car around them was a suspect, and the Hello Kitty one wasn’t doing itself any favors. For whatever reason, it felt compelled to start practicing highly evasive maneuvers in the traffic. Varin didn’t want to slow down, and postpone their meeting with the Archbishop any longer, but this Hello Kitty motherfucker was really starting to piss him off, and he didn’t want to speed and risk getting pulled over by the cops.

  Opal’s family, and the family of Jakob both had stakes in the Jaxon City Police Department. Now, they didn’t have the entire precinct eating out of their hands, but they had quite a few officers who showed up hungry every now and then. To get pulled over was to essentially sign their fate over to a roll of the dice, and if there was one thing that Varin hated, it was gambling. He kept his speed steady, hoping that the chaos of other drivers would maybe help take the attention off of them, for whoever may be watching.

  Chapter Thirteen: A Jaxon City Traffic Jam