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Apparently even the gods don’t venture into Texas in the middle of summer.
Instead of relief, however, I think we were both anticipating the other shoe would drop any moment. It was too easy, too calm. There was no way we’d get to New Orleans without something terrible befalling us.
Turned out Louisiana was much more inviting to the immortals than Texas had been.
We’d barely been in the room ten minutes when I noticed the smell.
Cade, who had flopped down on the thousand-year-old loveseat, leaving the bed to me and Fen, wrinkled his nose and sat upright. “Do you…? Was that…?” He shot an accusing glare at the fennec, who in turn huffed indignantly at the man.
“I smell it too.”
Sulfuric stink filled the room, so think and pungent my eyes began to water, and I had to cover my mouth with my shirt. Fen whined loudly before burying himself under my pillows. The scraping sound of nails on wood came from the door. More scratching was audible in the bathroom from the small window over the shower.
Have I mentioned how much I hate being so right all the time?
Cade was sitting bolt upright, trying to focus on the door and window simultaneously. When we’d checked in, I hadn’t wanted to share a room again. Now that we were stuck in here, I was glad we were together.
The rotten-egg reek became more cloying, with new aspects of onion and shit. I swiped at my eyes, chasing away the tears that had sprung up. The odor was unbearable. I was desperate to throw open a window or escape through the door.
Straight into the arms of whatever was waiting for us out there.
“In,” a voice rasped.
The word voice didn’t seem quite right. A voice indicated speech, and in turn, humanity. This was the sound an animal would make if it woke up one day and suddenly spoke English. It was a raspy, bone-chilling speech that was certainly not of this earth.
“Dammit.” Cade was on his feet and across the room in an instant, digging through his bag for something.
“In.”
“No thank you,” I shouted.
Cade paused his search to look up at me, one brow raised incredulously and his mouth open in a What drugs are you on? expression. Like I thought I could actually send the thing away by being polite.
I figured it was at least worth a try.
The scratching noises continued, undeterred by my refusal. Go figure.
Seeing as Cade was concerned enough to go for a weapon—probably—I went for my own bag, digging through it until I came out with my gun, a six-shot revolver. If we got through this alive, I’d consider upgrading to something with a larger clip.
Cade found what he was looking for, an enormous knife that glinted almost blue in the overhead lights. Not what I was expecting his weapon of choice to be, but if he could use it to protect himself, who was I to judge?
“What is it?” he asked.
“I make lightning; I can’t see through doors.”
Too many words. My lungs burned from the putrid air, and I covered my nose and mouth with my shirt once more. I hoped this wouldn’t do any long-term damage to Fen, who was still hiding under the pillows.
Either my sarcasm hadn’t registered with Cade or he was choosing to ignore it. Instead of replying he edged his way over to the curtain hanging across the motel room’s front window. As his fingers traced the curtain panel, I said, “Wait.”
The word wasn’t even out of my mouth when the lights shut off with the loud pop sound of a breaker going.
The world outside the room was just as dark, with no residual illumination from streetlights or the motel’s main office. Whatever had taken out our lights had done in the whole area around us at the same time.
I took a deep breath that failed to soothe me in any way, and disengaged the safety on my gun.
From bad to worse—the Tallulah Corentine story.
Fearing I might accidentally fire if the door burst open, I lowered my gun to my side. With Cade in the room it would be our luck that the motel manager was trying to warn us of something and I’d end up killing him.
