Page 3 of Defy Me

A shiver that she enjoyed a little too much snuck across the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

Or maybe that was the touch of snow beginning to fall.

Must be the snow.

The other wallet had only a couple of euros, but it had a Eurail pass that would sure come in handy. After a good night sleep and something to eat... mmm pastries and wiessbier, she was getting the hell out of here. This town was done for her and she hadn't found any clues or answers anyway. Calling themselves the luck town was like false advertising. It was just plain dumb to stick around any longer.

Now to find a place to stay tonight. She walked a little faster putting more distance between her and the bar brawl. The crisp night air felt good whipping through her hair, like she was running in a wide open field. Not that she spent a lot of time running. Well, not the jogging kind anyway. Only the away and hiding kind of running. She shouldn't be out in the open like this right now anyway. She’d had that sickening feeling of being watched for far too long to ignore it.

"Hey - you. Come back here you little thief."

She didn't wait to see if it was the two men she'd been running from already or the man she'd kissed. Either party was going to be pissed. Time to go. Again.

She bolted off the main square and down a maze of cobbled streets. She couldn't run for long before she'd run out of steam so she needed to find a place to duck into and hide in the next twenty seconds. She headed toward an area advertising hostels and gasthauses. Since it wasn't tourist season, most of them should have a private room vacant for her. She passed two hostels that looked a bit too run down for her to feel secure staying there and then spotted one she didn't remember seeing before. It had one of those old-school wooden signs swinging above the doorway. A big dragon was carved into the wood and painted with at least twenty brilliant colors.

A quick glance over her shoulder and she didn't see her pursuer anywhere. Good, she was already holding her side and gulping in air. A dark shadow blipped through the corner of her peripheral vision. But not on the street or by one of the buildings. It had been up on the rooftop. Must be some kind of a bird, although a big one. An owl or a bat.

Her shoulders involuntarily shook. Whatever it was, it gave her the creeps. She needed to get inside immediately if not sooner.

"Well, don't stand out there all night, sugar. Come in and get warm. I've got gluhwein on the stove." The most beautiful woman Yvaine had ever seen smiled and held open the door to the little inn and waved her inside.

Hmm. The woman was too friendly by half. More than the normal business hawker. Why? What did she want from Yvaine besides her money? Everyone out here in the real world always wanted something from her.

This small inn did feel safer than any other place to stay on the block. She wasn't sure why. She trusted her instincts and so far they had kept her from being taken advantage of. But she was getting really mixed signals here. Safety, weirdness, calm vibes, but also the sense of someone who was ready for a fight. Which was extra strange, because this woman was soft and curvy with long mother-nature with flowing hair and a soft smile. Not exactly the warrior type.

A tall, very handsome man, who reminded her of Jason Momoa, but with a prosthetic arm stuck his head out the door and over the woman's shoulder. "Ooh, you found her."

Yvaine took a big ole step back. Uh-oh. She'd gotten really good at hiding these past few months. She did not want to be found by anyone. Who were these people? Who was looking for her? She narrowed her eyes at the couple and opened her mouth to tell them thanks but no thanks.

Instead of words coming out, she burped. Holy hell. There was that beer she'd downed back to haunt her. It wasn't just that though. A gurgle sounded from her belly and nausea roiled.

The woman rolled her eyes and waved the guy off. "Don't mind my mate. He means I found a paying customer. It's been a slow week."

Mate? She must mean husband. Right? Yvaine's vision went a little fuzzy and she couldn't quite think straight. Husband. That was a weird word. Huzz. Band.

The woman wrapped her arm around Yvaine's shoulder and guided her toward the front door.

"I have a very nice room all ready for you. Big comfy bed, plenty of space, and black out curtains so no one will be able to see in. " She winked. "And we'll get you fed too. Soak up some of that beer.”

Yvaine had a super weird vibe from these two, but not uncomfortable. That sent a four-alarm fire worth of warnings off in her head. Something was wrong. Trust no one.

A shot of adrenaline hit her right in the heart, pumping through her veins like a cold shower, clearing her head. She still felt unsteady on her feet and that doorway was looking very enticing, if only to lean on.

Holy hell. She'd been drugged. The inn keepers hadn't even touched her. It couldn't be them.

The beer.

But Mr. McBroodypants hadn't known she was coming or that she'd pick up his drink and down it. Which meant someone had been trying to drug him. That didn't seem plausible either. She couldn't imagine what anyone would do with a big muscle-y passed-out dude like him. So she was back to the couple looking at her expectantly from the shelter of their doorway. Yvaine wavered on her feet again.

The flash of darkness flew over head again and even the woman lifted her eyes to the sky. "Come on, dear. It's getting dark out."

Uh. It was nine o'clock at night. In the winter. It had been dark for hours. One more reason she should keep on running. Except for that very distinct feeling she was being watched. Hunted. By something malevolent. Her head wasn't on straight and if she did look for another place to take shelter, she couldn't even guarantee she would make it another block down the street.

Either she went inside and hoped for the best that these people weren't responsible for her current state of weirdness, or she risked being seen by the watcher, or worse captured by her pickpocket victims, or the thing that was definitely not a bat.

Two, or was it three, sucky choices. What was new?

Her body decided for her, because she lost her footing and pitched forward. Her vision tunneled, but she refused to lose consciousness. The man caught her and swooped his prosthetic arm under her knees, lifting her up, and carried her inside. The door slammed shut behind them.

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