Her face eased in relief. Not an overjoyed one though.
“But you stop at any moment you want. Any moment, understand?” I gave her a serious look I would normally never have used on her, since I hated how she’d looked at me with suspicious eyes for weeks when she’d started. “Especially if you feel uncomfortable, okay? Even mid-dance.” And I’d be watching her the whole time to make sure she was all right.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Sure.” I growled out the word softly, sighing inside again. “Now go take your break and make sure to eat whatever Chef gives you.”
“Okay. I will. Thanks, Hunter.”
She’d used my name again, leaving me with a divine glow and tingles coursing across my scalp as she took off.
But I didn’t have such a warm feeling thinking about her obvious need for more money and what she’d do for it. I wondered how bad her circumstances really were. Where she’d come from, where was she staying now, and if there was anyone looking out for her in this messed up city, heaving with fangs, claws, and angry magic.
I knew it wasn’t appropriate, but my mind was already made up about what to do: I was finding out the answers to at least a few of those questions tonight.
I was following her home.
Serenity
The bus squeaked to a halt as I got up from my usual seat at the front. “Thanks, Gus.”
“You’re welcome. Night, Ms. Dawson.” Gus was a gentle water elemental and good reminder not all paranormals I met day to day had some evil intent lurking within them.
We both eyed two drunk shifters stumbling out of the dark alley between a pawn shop and liquor store about twenty feet in front of the bus. He grimaced. “Stay safe out there.”
“I’ll certainly try.” I reached for my keys in my purse so they’d be in hand when I got to my door.
“Hope you can leave this part of town real soon.”
“Me too. Night.” I stepped out onto the cracked sidewalk across from the place I’d been calling home since I’d started working at the club, and had been able to leave the shelter.
The motel’s gaudy neon red sign, which read ‘Superior Motel,’ was barely staying awake in the early morning hours. Two of theletters flickered on and off, ready to give up. I forced my tired feet to hurry along, not ready to give up myself until I got safely inside.
The motel was two dozen dingy rooms and an ice machine that occasionally spluttered out misshapen cubes—hardly ‘Superior.’ As I neared the building, I stepped around shards of glass scattered across the parking lot then rushed to my door, hoping to avoid the sleazy snake shifter who worked the front desk at night and any other creepy sorts, which this place seemed to attract like flies to dog droppings.
Oh, Carrot had opened the curtains again. She peeked from behind a half-open brown fold and meowed through the glass. As soon as I had the door shut and locked behind me, I flipped on the light and chuckled at her antics. She leapt from the windowsill and landed right at my feet, then weaved between my legs, rubbing against my jeans as she purred.
I picked her up, cradled her to my chest and kissed her crown. “Well, hello there. Yes, I missed you too. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget your dinner.”
I kicked off my sneakers and left my socks on to walk across the filthy carpet. The long-term rental rooms were supposed to be cleaned weekly. What a joke.
Reaching into the cupboard above the small sink and microwave that served as my kitchen, I plucked a tin of cat food from Carrot’s shelf and emptied it onto her plate. I should’ve been buying her the cheap dry stuff, but she liked the premium wet brand and I couldn’t deny her this small bit of pleasure. Especially as she’d been a stray who’d I’d found lingering around a nearby dumpster, half-starved. Treated like we were worthless, left on the street to fend for ourselves, we had a lot in common, me and little Carrot.
She began lapping at the food in that focused, crouching position cats did when feeding and I sighed and smiled as she nibbled. I never touched her when she was eating, but no doubt we’d have a nice snuggle later on the room’s tiny sofa.
It and everything else in here stank of stale tobacco. But I didn’t have the luxury of being able to care. I had a relatively safe place to myself with a little animal who loved me. And though I still had a lot to get sorted for the future, I had a lot to be thankful for.
A sudden strange feeling came over me, like I was being watched. As I turned toward the window, there was a blur of a black jacket as someone darted past the window.
I shivered. Black was vamps’ preferred color. They’d let me go when I’d gotten older and my blood no longer appealed as much, but you never knew what those crazy bastards might do. Surely they weren’t bothering to come back for me when they had dozens of other warm bodies, younger than me? My throat tightened and I tried not to tear up at the thought of the other humans and half-breeds still kept prisoner. Damn, I wished I knew where that feeding den was so I could tell the police.
I shivered again and tried to reassure myself whoever I saw was just another guest or resident.
But the glimpse of black jacket also reminded me of Hunter. He liked to wear black and wasn’t a vamp. I focused on thoughts of him, rather than the blood suckers. The image of his smiling face took away a lot of tension.
I found trusting paranormals extremely difficult, but Hunter was one of the rare exceptions. I knew he was a shifter, but I didn’t know what kind, and didn’t want to pry. He’d never mentioned anything about it either, so I’d taken the hint.
I’d applied my usual suspicion of paranormals to him for weeks—even refusing the extra cash he’d tried to give me my first month—but I’d learned he was one of the good guys. He liked to act like a grouch, and sometimes, when he thought no one was looking, there was a bit of sadness in his eyes. But he was kind to all his employees. He just never seemed to smile at the others as much as he did me.
