Page 43 of Road Trip with a Vampire
Fortunately, it did.
That was about all it had going for it.
“It could be worse?” I offered weakly when I swung open the door and saw what awaited us inside.
“I’m not sure that’s true,” Peter muttered.
The room was easily as big as my living room, so it was spacious as motel rooms went. That wasn’t a good thing, though. The extra square footage just gave the room more available space to be disgusting. The air inside was musty and smelled intensely of wet dog and cigarettes, suggesting it hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned in a long time. It likely hadn’t been updated in even longer, gauging from the circa-1970s mustard-yellow paisley curtains hanging over the window.
I flipped the light switch. A sad lone bulb sputtered to life within a filthy light fixture hanging from the ceiling. It made the room only thirty percent less dark than it had been before I’d turned it on.
I didn’t know if it was good that we wouldn’t be able to see very well while we stayed in this horrible room—or if it was very, very bad.
Either way, there was more than enough light to see there was only one bed—not two, like the lady who’d checked us in had promised. Its faded yellow duvet was just as hideous as the curtains it had likely matched some number of presidential administrations ago, but even if the room had been appointed by Martha Fucking Stewart, I would still be freaking out.
“They said there would be two beds,” Peter said, sounding oddly strangled.
“They did,” I agreed. “The woman in the lobby switched theVacancysign toNo Vacancywhen she gave us our keys. This must be all they have.”
“There’s no couch, either,” Peter said unnecessarily. He turned in a slow circle, as if by scrutinizing the room, a couch or possibly an entire extra bed would materialize. No such luck. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
I nearly gagged. “The floor’s filthy.” An understatement. The carpet was dingy and matted, a muted gray color that wasn’t dark enough to hide the large, mysterious stains just outside the bathroom.
“I doubt the bed is much better.”
“The sheets have at least a coin-toss’s chance of having been washed in the past year,” I said. “But those carpet stains are straight out of a true crime documentary.”
He grimaced. “Good point. I’ll sleep in the car.”
I tried to imagine Peter squeezing his tall frame into my car’s tiny backseat and failed. Even if he sat in the passenger seat and leaned it all the way back, he would be terribly cramped.
I looked at Peter and then the bed.
We were both adults, right?
“The bed may be crappy, but it’s big enough for both of us,” I said.
“I’ll sleep in the car,” he said again, more insistent this time. Then he added in a much quieter voice, “I haven’t fed since Donner Pass. I’m…thirsty.”
Of course. I’d had dinner at Big Earl’s, but Peter hadn’t. Donner Pass had been nearly twelve hours ago. It made sense that he needed to feed.
“And,” he continued, looking like he would rather do just about anything other than have this conversation, “I generally need tocalm downafter a large meal.”
He didn’t need to say more for me to know what he meant. If he’d bedrinking from the sourcetonight, and having a particularly large meal at that, he would likely be a very amorous vampire afterward.
“It would be…safer, I think, for me to sleep elsewhere,” he added carefully.
What I wasnotgoing to do was imagine Peter slipping back into this room after feeding, his veins full of blood and his body thrumming with desire. I would alsonotimagine what it would be like to have him in that state beside me, in this bed.
Because that…
That would only lead to bad decisions.
Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked loudly, serving as the perfect awkward backdrop to this painfully awkward conversation. I swallowed, my cheeks on fire.
Now that we were on the topic of biological needs, I forced myself to consider mine. The jittery buzzing beneath my skin was a quiet murmur, thanks to the wind spell from earlier in the day. It was still there, though, the barest hint of an itch that, if ignored, could have me in misery by morning. Or worse.
Accidentally setting this room on fire might actually do it some favors—but it would be awfully inconvenient. Especially since fire was one of the few ways to kill vampires.
