by Eva Chase
After one more burst of speed, the incubus slammed on the brake and cut the engine. “They’re not going to find us here for at least a little while. Now we just have to figure out where we’re taking off to next.”
We’d stopped in a laneway so tight I could barely squeeze out of the SUV. Good thing the shadowkind, especially Thorn, didn’t have to bother with the doors. The backs of brick buildings loomed on either side of us; the glint of streetlamps shone only faintly in the far distance. I had no idea where we’d ended up, but it definitely didn’t look like an easy spot to stumble on.
“We’ll want another vehicle.” Thorn motioned to Ruse. “Why don’t you slink around and see what you can turn up that couldn’t be easily linked to us? I’ll patrol the area to ensure our enemies haven’t followed us too closely.” He glanced at me and Snap. “You two get ready to flee if we need to, but stay here for now in case we don’t find another vehicle in time. I won’t be long. Ruse had better not be either.”
“I can take a hint,” the incubus said. They both slipped away into the darkness, leaving Snap and I in silence.
In the tight space that was as much as I could open the door, I picked my purse off the floor and gave Pickle a comforting pat through the fabric. He murmured his displeasure.
Snap flitted into the shadows and out again by the back of the SUV. I leaned against the trunk at the opposite end from him, giving him the space I hadn’t been able to offer in the car. Snap gazed down the lane toward that distant haze of artificial light. In the dimness, I thought I could tell his cheeks had flushed, but a glance at his nether regions showed that he was no longer, er, standing at attention.
We stood there in silence for a few minutes. Then words spilled out of me before I could second-guess the impulse. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, you know. It’s a totally natural reaction that anyone could have in close contact like that. Just a little friction, stirring things up.”
His head swiveled with its serpentine grace to consider me. “Just a little friction,” he repeated, in a tone I couldn’t read. “Is that all it means to you?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again, abruptly unsure how to respond. “Not always,” I said finally. “But I can look at it that way if that’s what you’d prefer.”
He looked away from me with a flick of his tongue over his lips. “I don’t know. I—” He paused, apparently grappling with his words as much as I had. “It’s not a sensation I’m used to. It was… unexpected. As it was happening, I wanted very much for it to be over with, but I also wanted more. I’m not sure which preference was stronger.”
I found myself wetting my lips too. I sure as hell wasn’t going to push him, but— “Well, if you end up deciding on more, just let me know.”
He shifted against the trunk with an audible inhalation, but before either of us could say anything else, Ruse appeared in front of us. He jabbed his thumb toward the end of the lane. “I’ve got a cab waiting that-a-way, with a very agreeable driver who won’t mark down the pick-up. Where’s the lunk?”
“Right here.” Thorn stepped out of the shadows just as the incubus finished speaking. “Our pursuers haven’t made it this far yet, but we should move on with all haste. We can’t shelter for the night in one of those taxis.”
An idea clicked in my head, so fitting I could have laughed if tension hadn’t still been knotted through my chest. “I know the perfect place for us to go.”
23
Sorsha
Even though there was no denying Ruse’s seductive charms, we had the taxi drop us off a five-minute walk from our actual destination. The incubus gave the driver a jaunty salute and said in a cajoling tone, “Thank you, my friend. You’ll drive back downtown and forget you ever came out here.”
As the cab pulled away, Thorn glanced at me. “What is this spot you wanted us to come to?”
I started walking, pointing to the glowing motel sign ahead of us, the letters distorted where half of the bulbs had burnt out. “This is a place people go to specifically when they don’t want anyone to know where they’ve gone.”
Every time Vivi had driven us to the outlet stores farther down this strip, we’d passed the motel with its weather-worn sign offering hourly rates. It’d become a running joke, making up stories about who would be so desperate for anonymity they’d take a room in a place that looked straight out of a slasher flick. A dude having an affair with his wife’s sister—who was also his kid’s teacher and his brother’s girlfriend. A mafia foot-soldier on the run from both the mob and the cops after a catastrophic incident involving a thrown plate of cannelloni. And so on.
Now I was getting to experience that desperation firsthand. Lucky me.
The sign also declared that the management only accepted payment in cash, because they were just that classy. My hand settled on my purse as we approached the front office, but Ruse waved his hand at me dismissively. “I’ve got this.”
In the last few days, my criminal activities had multiplied like rabbits. After yet another tight escape and looking up at the dingy shingles lining the motel’s roof, I couldn’t quite bring myself to care about this latest con. “Be my guest.”
As we’d agreed in hushed discussion in the cab, Snap and Thorn lurked in the shadows while Ruse and I went in. I took one look at the sputtering fluorescent light mounted on the ceiling, the board of nails dangling tarnished keys with numbered fobs, and the faded floral curtains that must have been at least a few decades old, and swallowed a slightly hysterical giggle. I was standing in the middle of a real live cliché. The only thing missing was getting murdered in my sleep, but who knew—there was still time for that.
Ruse strolled up to the reception desk with its patchy varnish and shot one of his smooth grins at the woman there, who had bags under her eyes big enough to hold spare change. “Hello there, darling,” he said in the same voice he’d used on the cab driver.
The woman gave us a look of utter boredom, but as Ruse drew out the companionable chitchat, a friendly warmth came into her eyes. By the time he asked her for “two rooms, side-by-side, with an adjoining door if you’ve got that,” she was so happy to help that she handed him two keys off the wall without the slightest hint of skepticism about a young couple asking for completely separate rooms.
“We could have made do with one,” I said to him after we’d stepped back outside. “It’s not as if the three of you need beds.”
Ruse clucked his tongue at me. “I was respecting your privacy. Besides, I need to get my fix of late night cable TV, and I wouldn’t want to keep you up.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but the truth was, I did feel better having a little space that the shadowkind weren’t invading. And even if the incubus and I were on better terms now, I wasn’t interested in doing anything other than sleeping tonight. As we reached our rooms, a yawn stretched my jaw.
“Let’s have a look at them before I decide which is mine,” I said.
There wasn’t exactly much to choose between. Both boasted similar flower-print curtains that were more gray than any other color now, moth-bitten carpets, and bed covers dappled with faint stains bleach hadn’t quite eliminated. A chlorine-y scent clung to them, but at least that meant they should be somewhat sanitary if not pretty to look at.
The first room had a slightly larger TV, so I left that one to Ruse and set my bags down on the bed in the other room. Thorn followed me in through the adjoining doorway. He closed the door and studied the knob.
“We should leave this unlocked on both sides,” he said. “None of us will disturb you unless there’s urgent need—but if we should have to escape in a rush…”
“No argument here.” I sat down on the end of the bed and eased open my purse. Pickle sprang out with a distressed but ineffectual flapping of his clipped wings. He shot a steely glare at the purse, as if it were to blame for his troubles, and bounded into the bathroom to put as much distance between it and him as he could.
Thorn prowled through the
room, eyeing every wall, corner, and piece of furniture for signs of danger, going as far as swatting at a spiderweb so tattered I suspected the spider had abandoned it months ago.
“I’m pretty sure there aren’t any actual serial killers hiding under the bed,” I teased, but that only prompted him to actually check under the bed just in case.
While he occupied himself with that, I slid the deadbolt on the outer door into place and went into the bathroom to fill up a glass of water for Pickle. The little dragon took a sip, allowed me to stroke his neck a few times, and then tugged one of the towels into the tub to make a fuzzy nest for himself.
When I came back out, Thorn was still there, now standing near the door between our rooms. As I flopped down where I’d been sitting before, he stayed in place, his pose oddly hesitant.
“M’lady,” he said, and paused. When I lifted my head to meet his gaze, he cleared his throat and glanced briefly at the floor before continuing.
“When we first came to you, I intended to keep you out of danger. I didn’t anticipate that our presence would propel you so much further into it. You have lost your home, most of your belongings, been drugged once and nearly captured twice in a span of three days…”
“I do remember all that,” I said when he trailed off. “I was there.”
He made a frustrated sound, his hands clenching. His voice came out even gruffer than usual. “I’m trying to say that I apologize for misjudging the threat—and that you may have been right to wish us gone in the beginning. I can’t make up for what’s already come to pass, but I can avoid dragging you into further peril. We’re closing in on Omen’s captors even as they attempt to close in on us. You’ve assisted us far beyond what I ever would have asked, so I can’t possibly ask for more. When we continue on Meriden’s trail tomorrow, you can go your own way, apart from us.”
Understanding sunk in slowly and then hit me in its final burst like a slap to the face. “What?” I sputtered. “You’re telling me to take off?”
Thorn grimaced. “We would see to it you have everything we can provide that you might need—Ruse should be able to supply you with money and perhaps other resources—and we would ensure that we draw our enemies’ attention to us to give you time to make a clean escape. If that isn’t enough—”
“It’s not about whether it’s enough.” I pushed myself off the bed to face him on my feet, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “Are you fucking kidding me? I lost my apartment, yeah, and lied to my only friends and now have run all over this city with bad guys at my heels, and you think after all that I’m going to throw in the towel and say it was all for nothing?”
The warrior’s expression turned puzzled. “You never intended to find yourself in such treacherous waters.”
“Maybe I didn’t expect exactly this, but I knew there were risks. I saw what happened to Luna because of these sword-star assholes. So what if things have gotten ‘treacherous’? When exactly did I give you the impression that I’m the type to run off with my tail between my legs when the going gets hard?”
Thorn was silent for a moment. “You’re offended,” he said. “You’re angry with me.”
“Yes, I’m fucking angry.” Was there anything nearby I could throw at his somberly stoic face? The lumpy pillow wouldn’t be at all satisfying. “I committed to finding out what the hell is going on, and I’m going to see that through. It isn’t just for you, you blockhead. It’s because of these pricks that Luna is dead. They might have killed my parents too. Who knows how many other people and shadowkind they’ve hurt before then and since? And you really think I’d take the chance to shrug it off and walk away?”
I’d obviously rubbed him the wrong way now and then—it wasn’t as if his attitude hadn’t irritated me often enough too—but I would have thought that by this point he’d believe they could count on me just a little. I’d run when the hunters came for Luna, when it was too late to help her anyway, and it’d killed me doing that. No way in hell was I letting the bastards off the hook now that we had them in our sights.
But he’d really thought I’d accept his offer that I leave. Possibly even expected me to be grateful for it. My teeth gritted.
“That wasn’t how I saw it,” the warrior said stiffly. “I merely was concerned for your well-being and the strain we’ve put on it.”
Since I couldn’t throw anything at him, I set my hands on my hips instead. “Stuff your concern up your ass. I’m not looking the other way while someone’s out there still sticking beings like you in cages and who knows what other horrors, so you can just forget about keeping me out of it. I have helped, and a lot, haven’t I, as inconvenient as this mortal body might be to you all?”
“I would never deny that. We would not have accomplished anywhere near as much in our quest without your assistance.”
“All right. Then assume I’m going to keep assisting, and keep your ideas about what kind of ‘strain’ I can handle to yourself unless I ask for your opinion. Agreed?”
Thorn bowed his head. When he raised it, his lips were twisted at a more pained angle than before. “M’lady,” he said, and seemed to struggle before adding my name. “Sorsha. I apologize. I promise I didn’t intend to insult you, although I see now how insulting my proposition was. I hope you will accept that my misstep was made out of lack of consideration and not contempt for your courage and resilience.”
The flare of my anger simmered down, although I couldn’t tell how much he meant those words and how much he was simply placating me. It was hard to read that ever-solemn voice.
“All right then,” I said. “Apology accepted. And listen, I can promise you this—once we find Omen and whatever other shadowkind these assholes have trapped, I’m going to burn everything that belongs to them to the ground just like I did your collector’s house. That’s the least they’ll deserve.”
The corner of Thorn’s mouth quirked up, just for a second, into what might have almost been a smile. “I look forward to that day,” he said in the same sober tone. “I’ll take my leave of you so you can rest and prepare for tomorrow’s plans.”
“You do that,” I said, but my grumble was half-hearted. He stepped out, closing the door behind him with a click. I sank down on the bed, my heart suddenly heavy.
I was in this ‘til the end. I hadn’t the slightest doubt about that. The only question was how much of my life from before would end up in tatters before this mission was over—if I was left with any life at all.
24
Snap
Thorn came striding into our room from Sorsha’s looking oddly irritated and invigorated at the same time. His jaw was tightly set, his eyes as dark as ever, but he moved with an almost eager purposefulness.
Ruse looked up from the sagging armchair where he was mashing buttons on the little box that controlled the bigger box of the TV and raised his eyebrows at our companion.
“Have a nice chat?” he asked, managing with the lilt of his voice to imply that they might have engaged in all sorts of intimacies other than talking. I supposed that was part of his particular talent. It made me want to squirm where I’d been sitting on the edge of the bed, even though he hadn’t directed it at me.
Thorn glowered at him. “We did, actually. And someone had to confirm her room contained no hazards. We’ve brought enough woe down on her head already.”
“But you have to admit she’s handled herself just fine.”
Thorn paused for a moment. “Yes. She has.” He swiveled on his heel abruptly. “I’m going to keep up a patrol of the nearby streets until we can leave in the morning. Stay alert and ready to defend yourselves and the mortal one if need be. And you, figure out how we can safely follow Meriden without our former vehicle.”
That last bit was clearly aimed at Ruse. If I’d had more experience with the mortal realm, perhaps I could have helped more with making plans, but as it was, I wouldn’t be of much use to any of them until we were right at the scene.
That was all ri
ght. I’d contributed my share, just as Omen had expected I would. I hoped when we found him he was in well enough condition to be pleased with his choices.
It did mean that at the moment I was left with little to do but stew in my thoughts. After Ruse had given Thorn a coy wave good-bye, the incubus’s gaze traveled to me. Another itch traveled over my skin. He was an expert in all things to do with bodily pleasure. Had he already picked up on a change in the energies between me and Sorsha?
I’d rather not give him time to notice if he hadn’t yet. I got up from the bed, shaking out my limbs as if stiff from staying in place too long, and said, “I think I’ll retire to the shadows.”
Ruse shrugged. “Up to you, but you’re about to miss some very excellent TV.” He gestured at it. “Late at night is when you get to observe all the things mortals think no one will want to see but feel the need to put on the air anyway.”
True or not, there was something I wanted to observe more. Or rather, someone. The strange vibe with which Thorn had left Sorsha’s room niggled at me. He’d been hard on her before—he was hard in general. Had his spirits been lifted because this time he’d managed to affect her with his criticisms?
I slipped into the shadows that lay here and there across the room, but then I hesitated. I’d gotten more of an eyeful than I’d been looking for the last time I’d peeked in on our mortal companion. But I knew where my two colleagues were now. I could retreat in an instant if need be.
With a tingle through my being, I leapt from the foot of the bed to the darkness that framed the adjoining door. Then I was peering from that space into Sorsha’s room, so much like ours.
She was lying on her back on the bed on top of the covers, one hand behind her head and the other resting on her stomach. Her coppery eyes were open, contemplating the ceiling with that haze I’d come to recognize meant a person was thinking of something farther away. She didn’t look upset, at least, only thoughtful. A crease had formed between her eyebrows.