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“Fuck your storms,” snapped Shane. My eyes shifted to Jeremy, to gauge his reaction. He seemed a lot less sure.
Boone’s expression hardened. He looked torn between two options; between trying to reason with what were rapidly becoming his adversaries, or just shrugging and turning away.
“You’re going to die,” he said simply.
Shane chuckled as he pushed his frat-brother through the opening. “Piss on that,” he snarled.
Then he stepped through himself, and they were both gone.
Twenty-One
MORGAN
My heart was heavy as I stared out through the swirling, churning opening. I wanted them to come back. Willed them to come back…
But as the minutes ticked by there was nothing out there but the rise and fall of the howling wind.
“Did you mean what you said?” I asked Boone. “About a second storm?”
He nodded, staring blankly into the fire. Slowly he ran one big hand through his thick swath of dark hair.
“Do you think they’ll be okay?”
“Not a chance,” he said, without a hint of remorse. “Then again, somehow they made it here. If they’re smart, maybe they’ll realize their foolishness. Stick close to the hotel for a little bit, to save face, then wander back inside.”
It was something to hope for. I clung to it. If anyone was coming back, it would be Jeremy. Shane would be a tougher sell, especially because coming back early would prove Boone right. But with Jeremy working at him…
“Come on,” said Boone. “I’ve got something to show you.”
He stood up, stretching to his full, impressive height. I was mesmerized by the sheer scope of him. As a man he was beyond imposing; at least six-foot four, his body the perfect specimen of size and strength and stamina. And now that he was shirtless, I could see the muscles beneath his bronze skin. Flexing. Rolling…
He reached out for me with a big, calloused hand, and for a moment I just stared at it. The last thing I wanted to do was leave the fire.
“Trust me,” Boone said. His mouth curled into the slightest hint of a grin. “You’re gonna wanna see this.”
Under any other circumstance I’d already be fleeing from a guy like this. I’d be red-faced and embarrassed, running as fast as my legs could carry me in the opposite direction.
But this wasn’t any ordinary circumstance.
I took his hand, and let him help me to my feet. Again, I was instantly aware of my semi-nakedness.
“Our clothes…”
Both of our shirts lay open on the hearth, spread out before the fire.
“Leave them,” said Boone. “Let them dry.”
I allowed him to lead me back through the hotel’s foyer. We passed through a carved wooden arch, into another room the guys and I hadn’t gotten around to exploring yet.
Already I was almost shivering again. “What was this place?”
“The hotel lounge,” said Boone. “At least as far as I can tell.”
The room definitely looked the part. While not as big as the lobby, it had enough room to accommodate a few dozen people at once. An old bar stood on one side, dismally empty, chairs long since gone. There was some kind of a painted mural behind it too, but it was so badly damaged it was impossible to tell what it was.
“What are we—”
“Over there,” said Boone, pointing. “The stairwell.”
