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Roman shut off the car and opened his door.
“Where are you going?” Shay squawked. She was going to murder his belligerent ass. “We need to think of a plan.”
“The plan is to get a room. The sun’s setting, so it’s either the motel or the car. And it’s pretty tight in here, so unless you want to sleep on top of me—”
Shay opened her door. “Let’s go.”
She had hoped to find some answers before calling it a day, but searching in the dark wasn’t a good idea. Aside from this motel and that tiny, rundown store a mile back, there was nothing around but desert and the open road—and a whole lot of darkness once the sun went down. And darkness always equaled monsters.
Shay followed Roman through the baking heat, into a tiny office that smelled strongly of pine-scented air freshener and lemon floor-cleaner. A fan blew in one corner, rustling the papers on the desk.
The way Roman dramatically glanced around, looking for an employee, was a bit comical, Shay had to admit. As if someone could possibly be hiding in a room as small as this one.
Roman stepped up to the desk, dark hair blowing as he entered the path of the fan, and slammed his hand down on the bell. Ding!
Shay cringed. “Was that really necessary?” she hissed.
“What? I’m in need of assistance.” He rang it again.
“Shadows, stop it. Someone will come—”
Ring. He dropped his hand down again, his unblinking eyes fixed on her. Ring. Ring, ring, ring, ring, ringringringringringring—
She lunged forward and planted her hands on top of his. “Would you stop it?” she snapped, gripping his hand tightly. “You’re going to wreck our chances of getting a room!”
“If you wanted to sleep with me that badly, pup, all you had to do was ask.” His hand under hers was warm and rough; she could feel scars on his knuckles.
“You are unbelievable!” she fumed.
The door behind the desk swung open, and a heavyset, half-human warlock walked out. He had a black moustache, a balding head, and a nametag that said, Omar. “My apologies,” he mumbled. He took a sip from a cup that smelled of weak coffee.
Shay removed her hands from Roman’s and laced them behind her back, not liking how the feel of his skin lingered on hers. The warmth of his hand was more intense than the desert heatwaves.
“No, I am sorry,” Shay began, “for my…friend’s behavior.” She glared up at Roman.
Omar looked the Shadowmaster over. “You like the bell,” he said, moustache twitching. He set down his mug.
Roman dinged it again. “I love it,” he said with one of those deadly smiles that showed no humor or joy. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Shay, and said through his teeth, “I just love loud, obnoxious things.”
Shay cleared her throat. “We’re looking for a room. Two, actually.” She held up two fingers. Please, please, let there be two.
The man sat down at the desk and clicked a few keys. The computer made grinding noises that gave away its age.
After a moment, Omar sighed. “No can do.”
“But your sign says ‘vacancy’.” Shay pointed over her shoulder, at the sign that indeed said VACANCY in glowing red letters.
Omar kept his focus on the screen.
Shay persisted. “Listen, if my friend here was too rude—”
“I like the bell,” Roman cut in with a defensive tone.
She forced herself to smile and said through her teeth, “Yeah, well I would like a place to sleep, Shadows.”
“You’re Shadows?” Omar asked, his dark eyes flicking to Roman.
Roman didn’t say anything.
