Changing Beauty (Book 2) (The Deadly Beauties Live On)

by C. M. Owens

  “Where the hell are we? And why can’t I see much?”

  I feel a chill surround the air suddenly, and an even bigger chill crawls up my spine. He grows silent for a second. In fact, he’s so quiet, that I start wondering if he’s just left me here.

  “This is my plane,” he finally says, but it’s so quiet that I barely hear it.

  “We can’t create planes,” I groggily counter.

  “You’d be surprised at what you can do when you’re living in a darker hell than most can imagine. Your body might not be able to escape, but your mind can. It can retreat, and you can do a lot when you learn how to do that.”

  I try to look up, working hard to focus, but all I see are the sparkling colors that are spinning and moving, tilting as though this is a carnival ride. It’s really doing a number on my stomach and my head.

  “So you create a fun house?”

  My sarcasm seems to be wasted because he doesn’t even acknowledge it.

  “I created a getaway plane. We used this plane to escape them once we were freed. It wasn’t smart for them to follow us through a plane I had created. My rules are all that matter in here.”

  “You mean after my family and I freed you; the same people who you attacked tonight.”

  He snorts derisively, even though it sounds like he’s everywhere at once. It’s giving me a headache to try and find him in this madhouse.

  “I technically didn’t attack them. They attacked me. And my people and I held back. I thought it was rather generous of me, to be honest.”

  Arrogant. Great. He’s also arrogant.

  Then again, I’d feel a little cocky if I had created an entire plane that only responded to my rules.

  “What are you going to do with me? Keep me prisoner here?”

  A hand on my face startles me, but all I feel is the warmth. There’s no sight of him to go with it. It’s as though he’s invisible.

  “I’d never lock someone up, Princess. I’d kill them and be done with it instead of risking their vengeance. I was just letting you lose your murderous side before returning you home.”

  The feel of his hand vanishes, and a pang of unbidden disappointment prickles throughout me.

  “Why?” I ask, trying and failing to move.

  “Why let you live? It’s not because I’m a good guy, Princess. It’s because you have a part to play. If I don’t live long enough to stop them, you’ll have to takeover. And I’ll be damned if I let them win after all they’ve done to me.”

  I start to question that, when suddenly my breath is leaving in a rush. I’m falling too fast, and I wince before my body crashes to the firm, still, unmoving earth below me. Clawing at the dirt, still feeling the effects of the dizziness, I force myself to stand up and look around.

  We’re back in the woods—the same spot we were when I was trying to save Roslyn… Fuck! I never even asked him what he wanted with Roslyn. She was a slave too, since she’s apparently the fucking werewolf/witch hybrid. Why is he so desperate to kill her instead of helping her?

  As I dematerialize, ready to start trying to rush back before everyone has a mini stroke, I also wonder about where in the hell her slave marks are.

  Chapter 16

  ROSLYN

  My poor, pitiful head.

  Immediately my mind snaps to attention, recalling all the crazy, and I bolt upright in my bed, headache forgotten. But… holy shit. Where the hell am I?

  Looking around, I take in the peeling paint on the dingy walls, the dirty carpet stained with who knows what, and what the hell does that writing say? Did someone really write about a girl giving good head? I thought you had to be an adult to rent a motel room. And this is definitely a motel room.

  Slowly, all the crazy pieces start fitting together. I must have passed out at the party last night when that Amy chick pissed me off. I knew I was getting mad; I felt the anger coming on. I must have passed out then dreamt up the elaborate events up until I saw Thad get hit by… whatever the hell that was.

  Oh shit. I seriously need a shrink. This shit is much bigger than a simple blood pressure problem. I just lived a crazy dream that seemed to go on all day, and now I’m naked in a motel room.

  Creeping to the window, I stay on my tiptoes, not willing to touch the disgusting floor more than necessary. After barely pulling back the curtain, I find myself squinting into the blinding sun of the morning, but finally finding a sign.

  Edgebrook Motel.

  And Jenny’s car is parked just below, meaning I actually did steal her car in my sleep just like my dream. After passing out, I’m usually dreaming about chasing daisies and end up naked in a field full of them. This is definitely a first.

  Shit. I seriously need therapy. It’s possible that I need a padded room.

  My eyes dart around the room again, searching uselessly for a dress that’s not here. No such luck. And I doubt I paid for this room, considering I don’t see them handing keys over to a naked girl without calling the cops.

  How am I going to get out of here without giving the motel an even bigger show than they’ve probably already seen?

  Oh no! How many people saw me streak up here? And it is up, considering this is the second floor. Which means stairs. And I don’t see any stairs within view, so that means…

  Yep. Someone definitely saw me naked last night.

  Great.

  Deciding my options are fairly limited, I pull the sheet off the bed, deciding to fashion something I can wear out of here. No one else is getting a look at all my lady parts if I can help it.

  It takes a lot of creative tying and tucking, but I finally get it wrapped around me. After all, Greek goddesses are portrayed to have worn something similar, so it can’t be too bad.

  One look in the mirror completely obliterates that last thought as my reflection actually mocks me.

  How did Greek goddesses make this look hot? I look like a train wreck preparing to take a walk of shame.

  I really hope the keys are in the car, otherwise… Well, I’ll be walking. No way in hell am I hitchhiking, and I can’t call Jenny to come get me, since I sort of stole her car. And Thad… hell no. He’d see how completely crazy I am if he saw me right now.

  What am I supposed to say? I don’t even know what I might have said to him after I passed out. I’ve been known to say creepy things before when I blacked out.

  Please don’t let me have been creepy.

  Poking my head through the crack I make in the door, I look around, hoping that no one sees me make my great escape. I doubt housekeeping ever actually cleans this room, so I’m not worried about them.

  After making sure it’s clear, I sprint out of the room, holding the bottom half of my hideous Greek goddess attire. A faded, chipped sign points in the direction of the stairs, and I don’t slow down while barreling down them. Well, not until a woman screams and drops two bags of ice in front of me.

  She grabs her necklace, holding it out until I see it’s rosemary beads and a crucifix. Or at least I think that’s what it is. Her eyes are wide and fearful as she backs up and starts speaking rapidly in Spanish.

  I’m actually glad I don’t know Spanish, because I’m fairly sure she’s probably calling me a few names I don’t want to hear.

  I practically race by her, ignoring her as she gets louder. One word is spoken in English. One word.

  Demon.

  I turn around as she narrows her eyes at me, and then I turn back to run to Jenny’s car. Maybe it just sounded like demon. She might have still been speaking in Spanish.

  All I know is that I need to get the hell out of here.

  The keys are still dangling in the ignition, and I don’t pause long enough to be thankful for that. Instead, I crank it up and speed away. It’s not until I see the gas gauge that I realize I have to make a stop.

  Searching the car, I find my purse. I really did grab it just like my dream.

  Twenty bucks is all I find. I usually don’t keep more than that on me—another r
eason I know I didn’t pay for that room last night. But in my dream, I was planning on running away. A lot of good that twenty would have done me.

  I groan when I see the gas station ahead, especially when I see the sign stating that it’s the last one until Pine Shore. No way will I make it back home with this small amount of gas.

  That’s not why I’m groaning, though. There are cars everywhere. I swear I’ve never seen a gas station so crowded.

  And I’m wearing a sheet.

  Hesitantly, I take my spot in line for a pump, waiting impatiently as several leering eyes find their way toward me. Adjusting the sheet, I do well to avoid the prying eyes of the morning assholes.

  Letting my hair veil my face, I slowly pull up to the pump as the other car pulls away. I really wish I had a credit card or debit card of some kind. But no. I’m that weirdo that keeps all her money in her sock drawer.

  I try summoning my courage to go inside, considering there’s a prepay demand. Maybe I could talk someone into going in for me.

  Peeking up, I realize there are a lot of eyes on me. Is it that obvious that I’m wearing this? I’m in a car. Surely they can’t tell.

  Well, they’re about to get a show, so I might as well get it over with.

  With all the dread in the world, I force myself out of the car, noticing how the squeaky door draws even more unwanted attention my way. One woman drops her bag as she walks out of the store, staring at me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

  I pad across the hot pavement of the parking lot, moving by the stunned woman as though she’s not there. Holy shit, this pavement is burning my toes.

  Several snickers emerge, and a few catcalls find my ears. This is so humiliating.

  My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls right now, and I’m dying of thirst. Once inside, all eyes turn to me, and my desert mouth gets even drier. Even the cashier seems to be momentarily stunned by me as her hand stays suspended in the air and forgotten with some guy’s change.

  “Long night,” I mumble awkwardly while moving away from them and toward the back where the coolers are.

  Might as well spend some of my twenty on my parched throat. That line is going to take a while to get through, and I don’t feel like breathing fire when I try to talk again.

  After walking by the endless rows of beer, I finally find the water, and I twist the cap off before guzzling it. She can ring up an empty bottle. Judging by the length of that line, she will be doing just that. Hell, I could probably drink two.

  “Mornin’, Darlin’,” a male voice says close to my ear. “Need some assistance?”

  I jump, sputtering water in the process before clutching the top of my sheet to make sure it’s still secure. Turning around, I see a short, bald guy in a suit as he eyes me with too much interest.

  After clocking his wedding band, I roll my eyes. Not only is this guy sleazy; he’s married and sleazy. “I’m fine.”

  “Really?” he asks with a creepy, I’m-peeling-off-your-sheet-with-my-eyes look. “Because I was just thinking that—”

  A hand clamps down on his shoulder, interrupting him, and my eyes dart up to widen in disbelief at the familiar face smirking at me.

  Zee—Thad’s friend. Oh no. Could this get any worse?

  “He was just thinking he needs to get on to work so that he can support his wife and… two or three kids?”

  He eyes the guy expectantly, who seems to tremble as he meets Zee’s gaze.

  “Two,” the guy whispers before practically sprinting away.

  “You’re a hard one to find,” Zee says, still seeming all too amused as he glances down at my strange morning attire.

  Nope. Can’t get any worse.

  “You got this?” Zee asks, looking over my shoulder, and my blood runs a little cold.

  “Oh, I definitely got this,” an overly familiar voice drawls, sounding equally amused from behind me.

  I was wrong. It just got worse. A lot worse.

  Slowly, with even more dread than I had before coming into the store, I turn to face the taunting grin of Thad. And of course he looks amazing. And I’m still in a sheet with fucked-up hair and no makeup. Oh, and I’m on my tiptoes because I’m barefoot and this floor is gross.

  His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the coolers, watching me and waiting expectantly. How am I supposed to explain this?

  “Nice toga, sweet girl,” he says with that same cocky grin, as though this is all so completely normal.

  My crazy is exposed, people are still staring, and I’m on the verge of tears because this is so mortifying.

  “I… um… How did you…”

  I give up. I can’t formulate a good sentence right now, and every word spoken puts me closer to a tear falling.

  “I got worried after you took off on me. What happened?”

  I notice the way he tenses, and I look around, still acutely aware of how everyone’s gaze is curiously searching me.

  “Can we not do this here?”

  He nods before looking over and down the aisle where Zee has wandered off to.

  “Take her car, and pay for her drink. We’re out.”

  He takes the bottle of water from my hand and tosses it to Zee, who catches it without even looking. Then he takes my hand, guiding us out of the store. I hiss out a breath when my feet hit the hot pavement, but Thad is suddenly scooping me up, careful to keep my sheet firmly wrapped around me.

  The eyes don’t bother me so much when he kisses my forehead, moving us toward a black Hummer. I don’t even ask whose car it is before he gingerly places me in the passenger seat.

  As soon as he’s behind the wheel, the engine roars to life, and he drives us away from all the prying eyes of the public.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, wishing I could remember what really happened instead of the insanity that my dreams have put in my head.

  “For?” he asks, even though he seems as tense as I feel.

  “I guess… I must have passed out at the party last night… when that Amy chick pissed me off. I… sometimes… well, it’s embarrassing, but people have told me it’s like I’m still there, but I’m suddenly freaky. So… yeah. I don’t remember anything after that part.”

  At least anything that isn’t lined with total and complete craziness.

  “The party? Last night?” he asks, confused.

  “Yeah… So whatever I said… Look, I don’t know how to explain it, and I completely get it if this is too weird for you. But I passed out, had crazy dreams, and woke up naked in a motel room.”

  I cover my face, but the sound of a soft, rumbling chuckle has me looking back up to see Thad looking thoroughly amused.

  He reaches over and pulls my hand into his, kissing the back of it so softly.

  “Sweet girl, that party was two nights ago. You don’t remember anything?”

  Two nights? Holy shit.

  “I… Well… No. Nothing that won’t sound crazy, anyway. It happens… crazy dreams, I mean. This is certainly the longest it’s ever gone on.”

  He continues running those amazing lips up and down my hand, distracting me completely. “I see. Well, it’s a good thing I found you. You took off, and I’ve been searching all night.”

  He searched all night for me? Now I feel even worse.

  But I thought I was missing for two nights—the night of the party and then last night. Before I can say anything, he blows out a heavy breath that leaves a knot tightening in my stomach.

  He’s met his limit of crazy. I can see it in the tense way he’s stayed. I can’t blame him either. I just hope he doesn’t say it aloud before we get closer to my house. I’d hate to cry in front of him just to ice the pathetic cake.

  “Does the name Reese ring any bells?” he asks randomly, confusing me.

  “No. Why?”

  He shrugs, keeping my hand against his lips as he continues driving. “No reason. Just curious. How long have you been blacking out?”

  Frowning, I try to think
back. “For as long as I can remember, I guess.”

  “What happened these past two years? You sort of went off grid?”

  What’s with the third degree? Obviously I don’t ask that aloud. He’s the one tracking down the crazy girl wrapped in a sheet. I can answer a few random questions.

  “I traveled. I never got to travel before, so I finally traveled. I guess… I felt compelled to travel. Life sort of pushed me in that direction, even though I really wanted to go to college.”

  “Where’d you travel?”

  Leaning back, I take in his profile as he continues to strum those soft lips over my hand. Every time he speaks, I felt the heat of his breath and the vibrations of his voice against my skin. It’s relaxing me, even though I wouldn’t have thought it possible to relax after my bizarre morning.

  “Italy. Rome. France. Ireland. Australia… A little bit of everywhere all over the world.”

  “Oh?” he asks, still seeming lost in thought. “How did the food taste there?”

  I frown as I try to recall a memory, finding nothing but images in my mind instead of any mouthwatering memories. That’s weird.

  “I… can’t remember.”

  He nods as though he was expecting that answer. “Any smells that you can recall? I know in Italy, I love smelling a true pizzeria. I also love the smell of the air in Ireland. It’s fresh—fresher than anything I’ve ever experienced anywhere else. I almost didn’t leave when I went to visit.”

  Squirming in my seat, I once again find the absence of any sensory memories. Taste, touch, smell, sounds… All I have are random images popping into my mind—blurry memories at best.

  “I… I can’t remember,” I echo, slowly feeling deflated. Why can’t I remember?

  “So visuals only?” he asks, acting as though he’s solving a puzzle.

  I don’t speak, mostly because I never thought of it until he pointed it out. Now I feel like I’m missing something. The memories I once held in high regard seem less convincing. Everything in my memories is much too perfect. There was never even a bad storm, or a stumble. Hell, there wasn’t even a missed step.

  “What about when you were little? Did you ever see anything odd? Like maybe a wolf hanging around? Possibly a black wolf?”