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“Shit! Declan, I didn’t want to do that!” She sounded frantic as she whirled around. Dizziness washed over him and he took a second to center himself.
“I need to get out of here,” he said, grabbing her hand as he started up the street.
“You don’t understand. What the hell have I done?”
He heard a dirge of loud music erupt from behind them and knew they were no longer alone. “Now.” His tone was urgent and she was quiet as they made their way up the street.
Declan fought the urge to break out into a full-on run, but he knew that would be like painting a bull’s-eye on his ass. Besides, the dizziness that had settled inside his head wasn’t going anywhere. In fact it was making it extremely difficult to concentrate.
They crossed the street several blocks down. Declan gritted his teeth, his gaze carefully sweeping the perimeter around them. He glanced to the right, felt relief when he spied the large clock tower. They were close.
“This way,” he murmured, tugging Ana along. He was now stumbling like a drunkard.
Ana gripped his hand, her nails digging into his skin. Her anxiety pressed on him and he shakily swept his hand along her cheek.
“We’ll be fine.” He winced as another wave of dizziness washed over him. “It’s not much further.”
“Declan, if I’ve hurt you I’ll never forgive myself.”
He stilled, his breath hitching in his chest. Ana turned. She heard it, too. Footsteps echoing in the dark.
He started to jog and as they approached the clock tower, the strange gray mist swirled faster, thicker until they were able to disappear inside it.
“Where are we going?” she asked hurriedly.
“There’s a place we can crash, next to the tower.”
His head felt like it was going to explode, and the relief Declan felt when he spied the run-down hotel, Soul Sucker, nearly brought him down. The building rose thirteen stories into the air, though the last several weren’t visible due to the thick mist.
“This way.” He pulled Ana along with him and tried to keep it together as they slipped inside.
The lobby was large. An enormous chandelier hung from the ceiling, teetering dangerously as it swayed back and forth. There was no reason, no breeze to help it along, it just did.
A grand piano sat upon a pedestal to their right; sitting at it, a demon. A melody fell from his fingers—the tune was off, the notes harsh.
Good to see some things never changed.
Declan carefully paced himself and the two of them walked to the front desk. A tall, thin ghost of a man stared at them in silence.
“We need a room.” Declan nodded curtly. Sweat beaded his forehead, his belly was shifting uncomfortably. He was going to pass out. He just needed to hold on.
He reached into his pockets and withdrew a thin, metallic card. A gift from Samael.
The clerk grabbed it, long, wraithlike fingers caressing it greedily. He passed it through a device to his right, grunted, and handed Declan a key card.
“Ten-twenty,” the clerk announced. His voice was like gravel underfoot.
Declan heard the door open behind them. He pocketed both cards and turned toward the elevators. Ana was silent at his side, her arm wrapped around his waist, and he was grateful for the support.
They slipped inside the elevator, footsteps echoing behind them, and as the doors slid shut Declan sagged against the walls, listening to the echo of footsteps fade.
They rode the lift to the tenth floor in silence. He barely had enough energy to hold on. When the doors slid open, it was Ana who helped him out. She fished the card from the front pocket of his jeans and led him toward the end of the long hall.
She opened the door, and by this time his head was spinning so badly, the groan that escaped his mouth sounded like a pathetic wail.
“Here,” she whispered, and helped him toward the bed.
“Don’t leave.” Damn, he sounded weak. Her eyes wavered above him. The mattress at his back afforded some relief.
