Page 33 of Redeemed
And if anybody does rob me, I’ll know to start looking at a certain werewolf/front desk clerk.
Worming my way through the rocks, I find the entrance to the cave. It’s large enough that even my sight can’t penetrate the darkness.Good.
I’d left LA without my overnight case, so I don’t have anything remotely like a mattress or even a pillow. There’s no water to wash, and while I’m not truly hungry, if a certain bleached-blond werewolf was around, I’d probably have a snack.
But David’s not here and neither is Connor. In the darkness of the cave, I have to focus to hear Jacques.Small blessings, man. I poke around in the darkness, feeling my way along the wall of the cave until I work my way back to the entrance.
“Well, Trajan Gall, you’ve done it this time.”
Somehow I hear my mother’s voice, and it makes me flinch. Mother had a good heart and a fierce temper. She sang opera whenever she could find a production, but along the Mississippi during the War Between the States, there weren’t many singing jobs to be had.
So she took other work, the kind that ate her soul as surely as the consumption ate her lungs.
“Enough.” I shake myself. Making my way to the deepest part of the cave, I prop myself against the wall. The darkness hasn’t changed, but sunrise is close. I barely have time to fret over what it’ll take to turn a human when my mind goes dark.
After that I don’t worry about anything.
Chapter Twelve
Connor
STEP ONE IS finding a new place to stay, ideally one Betancourt doesn’t know about. Step two is finding Trajan. And step three?
Navigating vampire politics to keep Trajan safe and all of us alive.
Simple. Shouldn’t be a problem at all.
I suck at sarcasm.
“This place is okay,” David says, although his nose is ever so slightly wrinkled. His wolf’s nose picks up more than I do, but I find I’m not interested in whatever died in this hotel room.
“We can move on in a day or so.”
“We might not need to. I mean, we’re hiding from Betancourt, who seems to be tracking Trajan, not us.”
“Yeah, but if we move again, we can be pickier about where we stay.”
“Sure. Next time we can find someplace on the upside of decent.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
He laughs, and for a minute everything’s okay. But only for a minute.
David and I are in a Motel 6 south of LAX. With faux-hardwood floors and an incongruous orange wall, it’s not fancy. But since we called to reserve a room at midnight, I’m just glad the door locks.
“We should probably try to grab some sleep,” I say.
David’s expression sobers. “I keep telling myself that he’s been a vampire for a lot longer than I can imagine, so I should trust him to be able to take care of himself.”
I cross the room—it’s small enough that I cover the distance in two steps—and take hold of his shoulder. He’s so tight I start massaging without really paying attention to what I’m doing.
“Hey. Stop.” David jerks away from me. “This isn’t the time to get romantic.”
I stand there with my jaw around my knees. “I just…your muscles are tight…I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
He spins away from me, one hand raised like he’s putting up a wall between us.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
