by Isa Hunt
I woke with a start, jumping up out of the seat with such force that I almost hit my head on the sports car's low ceiling.
“What the, where am I . . . shit . . . who . . . what . . . ” I stammered in confusion.
“Relax, relax,” said Benoit gently. “We're here.”
“Here?” I mumbled, still looking at me in confusion. “But we only just left a second ago, didn't we? And where's here?”
He pointed out the window where a neon sign was flashing the word “MOTEL” into the gray dawn.
“We've been driving for an hour or so,” he said. “You slept like a baby the whole way. I'm just gonna park as far away from the street as possible so that our pursuers aren't able to spot my car. Then we'll check in and get a few hours of sleep – which I need pretty badly right now – and then we'll be on our way again.”
“Okay, okay,” I said slowly, “but when you say 'on our way again', what do you mean? Where exactly is it that we're going?”
“New York City,” he said.
“And we're gonna drive there?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We are. It's a long drive, as I'm sure you know, so we need to be well rested before attempting it.”
“Jeez,” I muttered. “Why on earth do we have to drive all the way up there?”
“Because that's where the people who can help you – who can help us – are. It'll be much safer there than down here. We have to get you out of the enemy’s reach.”
“The enemy? Benoit, this stuff is crazy, okay, it's absolutely crazy! I don't have any enemies! I've never done anything bad to anyone!”
He sighed, and a look of sadness came across his face.
“I'm sorry, Kelly,” he said gently. “I know it's overwhelming, and I know it really, really sucks. But these people who are after you aren't your enemies because of who you are or what you've done – it's because of what you are, what you have the potential to be.”
“What I am? I'm just a girl! I'm . . . I'm nothing, I'm nobody!”
“That's what you may think,” he said, smiling slyly, “but it's not the truth.”
“Then what is the truth, what is it, huh?” I demanded. “Come on! Just tell me, please! This is so freakin' crazy!”
“First, we rest. We have a long drive ahead of us, and there will be plenty of time for detailed explanations and such. But not now. I'm exhausted and so are you, so let's just go and check in and get some rest.”
“Fine,” I muttered. I wasn't happy with this, but I could see that it was pointless in wasting my energy on pushing this stubborn dude to try and give me info that he clearly wasn't willing to give.
We drove in and went right to the back of the empty parking lot, where his car was obscured from view by the building. After that, we stumbled into the reception area to check in, both feeling like zombies at this point, and staggered over to our room.
We had requested a room with twin beds, but when I opened the door I saw that the clerk had given us a room with just a double bed. Benoit had refused separate rooms because he had to “protect me”, whatever that meant.
“I'm sorry,” said Benoit. “I'll go back and request a different room.”
“Forget about it,” I said, shaking my head. “I'm too tired to care. We'll sleep in the same bed – you just make sure you stay on your side, and I'll stay on mine. Got it?”
“If you're fine with that, then—”
“Like I said, Benoit, I really am too exhausted to care at this point.”
He nodded and we walked in. I stumbled straight over to the bed and flopped down on it, while he appeared to be walking around and checking out the windows and doors, making sure they were secure enough or whatever.
I didn't care what he was doing at this point – I just needed to sleep. I closed my eyes, and was out within seconds, falling into a fitful sleep full of strange dreams . . . and nightmares.
CHAPTER 8 – BENOIT
I made sure the room was totally secure and then walked over to the bed, where Kelly was already fast asleep. God, she was gorgeous. I mean, I'd noticed it the first time I'd seen her, of course, but now, seeing her up close like this, being able to take in the sight of her slowly, just to drink it in with my eyes . . . It was magic. I was exhausted, but I needed to stay awake just a little longer to appreciate this.
Her smooth, pale skin was just begging to be stroked. It looked as if it were soft as velvet and smooth as silk. And her full lips, on her oval face, just perfect for a slow, languid kiss. I imagined that they tasted of cherries. And to run my fingers through that thick, silky-soft hair that tumbled around her slim shoulders, and to stare into those gorgeous hazel eyes of hers as I pulled her body close to mine . . .
No, not now. I didn't have the time to stand around and fantasize about her, as enjoyable as that sounded. I had to get some rest and get us both far away from here before the enemy figured out where we were.
Jake had no doubt alerted his master and the rest of his evil brethren about the fact that the time to strike was now. I cursed myself for being so stupid that I hadn't made a move before they did – and that I had left my gun in the car instead of taking it with me earlier this evening. If I could have put a few bullets in Jake instead of simply sinking my fangs into him, it would have bought me a lot more time, and things wouldn't be nearly as urgent as they were right now.
Still, there was no time to sit and worry about could-haves and should-haves. I'd at least managed to get her out of the situation alive and safe, and now I needed to focus on keeping things that way.
I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice, so I took my pistol – a Colt .45 – and put it on my chest as I lay down next to her. I had an overwhelming urge to wrap my arms around her, to breathe in her scent, to kiss that long, pale neck . . . But I didn't. I respected her wishes and kept to my own side of the bed.
“Alright, Benoit,” I mumbled to myself as sleep started to come over me, “only a few short hours of sleep. Make them count.”
I closed my eyes, my hand resting on the grip of the pistol on my chest, and was asleep within seconds.
***
“Benoit, wake up.”
I blinked and sat bolt upright in the bed, gripping my pistol tightly in my hand.
“What is it? What's going on? What time is it?” I demanded.
“It's two in the afternoon,” said Kelly, who was standing next to me. She was dressed in the same clothes as the night before – obviously, as she didn't have anything else – but was drying her hair with a towel. “You've been asleep for a little longer than you planned to, I'm guessing.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “Yeah, I have. Dammit! I only planned to sleep for four hours. I must have slept right through my alarm.”
“Well it woke me up,” she said, sounding a little annoyed. “So I got up, ordered some breakfast – there's some for you on the table there, called Rhonda to let her know where I was and had a shower.”
“Wait, what?” I demanded, jumping off the bed and landing on my feet, as my blood started surging through my veins with a sense of fresh urgency. “You called someone and told them where you were? Are you crazy?”
“Relax,” she said, looking upset. “What, do you think I'm an idiot or something? I didn't tell Rhonda our location, I just said that I was out of town.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing!” she said, looking almost offended. “I was supposed to have lunch with her today, so obviously I had to let her know that I couldn't make it. Don't worry, jeez, I didn't tell her about any of the crazy stuff that happened last night – or that I'd left town and might not be back for a while. I just said that I'd had to make an unexpected trip out of town, that's all.”
“Okay,” I said, my worries not in the least bit alleviated, “but how long were you on the phone?”
“Uh . . . like two minutes I guess?”
I started striding briskly toward the door. There was no time now.
>
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Aren't you even gonna eat the breakfast I bought for you?”
“We're leaving, right now,” I said flatly. “I'll eat something later when we're safe and far away from here.”
“Wait, just like, what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?” she demanded.
“The enemy. You used your phone, and they're in all likelihood got your number – and since you said you were on the phone for around two minutes, they had plenty of time to triangulate your location.”
A look of fear and worry began to twist her pretty features into a frown.
“So what you're trying to say is . . . ” she murmured.
“They know we're here,” I said flatly. “And you can bet your ass that they're on their way. If we move right now, and I mean right now, we just might have a chance to get away. So get your bag, forget the damn breakfast and let's go!”
She could sense the urgency in my voice and see it on my face. There was no time to waste, not even a second.
“Okay, okay,” she murmured, her face turning pale with fear. “Okay, let's go. Jeez, I'm so sorry, I didn't—”
“Forget about it,” I muttered. “It's my fault. I should have told you to turn your phone off.”
I opened the door – and right away saw three sleek red sports bikes pulling into the parking lot, revving their powerful motors loudly. The three riders who climbed off the bikes were all dressed in black leather, with black helmets that masked their faces, but I knew right away who they were. One, who towered head and shoulders above his companions, was Jake – Jake the bear shifter. The other two were likely puma shifters. I knew a local clan of them served Jake's master, and they would be helping him down here. One of them entered the reception area, no doubt to find out where we were. The other two made to stand guard.
They hadn't seen me yet, so I quickly stepped back inside and shut the door softly, sliding the deadbolt in place and backing away from the door. No way to escape. There wasn’t even a window at the back we could escape through.
“They're . . . they're here already, aren't they?” murmured Kelly, her voice shaky with fear.
“They are,” I replied softly.
“Oh no, oh no . . . What do we do Benoit, what do we do?”
“We only have one option now,” I said grimly. “We fight . . . or we die.”
CHAPTER 9 – KELLY
My heart started to pound with fear as I realized what was about to happen.
“F-, f-, fight?” I murmured, my hands starting to tremble and my knees feeling weak. “I've never had a fight in my life! I've never like, hit anyone or anything! I just, I—”
“There's no time to worry about stuff like that,” said Benoit, interrupting me. “Dammit, if only you knew how to use your abilities, but you haven't been trained yet, and, dammit . . . ”
“My abilities? What abilities? I can't do anything special! I mean, I can play a little guitar, and—”
“Never mind, you'll find out later – if we survive the next ten minutes. Here, help me flip this bed over, it's gonna have to do as a shield. Hopefully, they're not packing any heavy firepower, because if they are . . . ”
He didn't need to finish the sentence for me to know what he was implying. This really was a life or death situation.
He set his pistol down on the nightstand and we lifted the bed up onto its side. He patted the wood underneath appreciatively.
“Good, good, this is solidly made old stuff. It should stop nine-millimeter bullets. Anything heavier or higher velocity rounds, and it's as good as wet toilet paper.”
“What do I do?” I asked, feeling the first sparks of adrenaline starting to ignite a fire in my muscles. Jeez, I don't think I'd ever had this many surges of adrenaline in my life in such a short time.
“You ever fired a gun?”
I shook my head.
“Then there isn't much you can do,” he said flatly.
“Can't you like, use your werewolf powers or whatever to fight these guys?” I asked, feeling an icy surge of desperate fear counteracting the excitement of the adrenaline.
He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head.
“Firstly, I'm not exactly a 'werewolf' – at least not like the ones you've seen in movies. Second, no, I have more of a chance to fight them off in my human form because I can use a gun. There are three of them coming for us – two pumas, one bear.”
“Two . . . two what?!” I gasped. “Did you just say 'pumas' and 'bear'?”
He nodded grimly.
“Yes, I did. Those guys out there are . . . like me. They can shift forms.”
“Holy shit.”
It was all I could say. Things had just been going from crazy to crazier ever since that wolf – well, this guy in front of me, whatever he really was – had chased me the night before. How much more insane could things get? Actually, I wasn't sure I even wanted to know. I had just about had my fill of crazy up to this point, thank you – but it seemed like the madness wasn't about to stop anytime soon, and I figured that if even if I survived this, the crazy would just get dialed up another notch.
I glanced across the room, determined to take my fate into my own hands somehow. I might not be able to shoot a gun, but I sure as hell wasn't about to just crawl up in the corner and accept my fate.
I then spotted something that popped an idea into my head, so I got up from behind the bed and ran across the room.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” snapped Benoit. “Get back here!”
I grabbed the electric kettle that was on a small table in the one corner and ran to the bathroom to fill it up.
“Are you insane?” yelled Benoit. “Now is not the time for making tea!”
“I'm not making tea you dumb-ass!” I shouted back. “I'm arming myself!”
I plugged the kettle in and started boiling the water.
“You're insane,” he muttered. “What are you gonna do with that?”
“You ever had boiling water on you, Benoit?” I asked, surprised at how well I was doing with keeping my cool under the circumstances. “It's not fun, trust me. And, you see, whoever cleaned this room before us didn't do a thorough job at all.”
“First boiling a kettle, now talking about cleaning?” he said, seemingly stunned with disbelief. “Do you not understand that there are three armed, vicious killers on their way to this room right now, with the specific aim of pumping me full of bullets and opening your throat up with a hunting knife?”
“Oh, I understand alright,” I said, “and that's exactly why I'm doing something about it. You see, I might not be able to use a gun, but I do have a meticulous eye for detail, and the ability to think fast and make unconventional plans when under pressure. And when I took a shower earlier, I noticed that the cleaner had left her gloves under the sink in the bathroom. And I also noticed that she didn't empty the trash can in the room, which is full of beer bottles. Now tell me, Benoit, if you were hit in the head with a beer bottle, thrown with force, that exploded and showered your upper body with boiling water – how would you like it?”
I glanced out of the bathroom door at him and saw a wry smile breaking out across his handsome face.
“You really are your mother's daughter,” he murmured.
“What?” I asked, confused. “You knew my mother? She passed away when I was just a little kid.”
A sudden loud, aggressive thumping on the door resounded through the motel room.
“We know you're in there, Delacroix,” growled a deep, threatening voice from outside. “Hand over the girl and we'll let you walk away.”
Just then the kettle started rumbling. The water was boiling. There was no time to waste. I slipped on the gloves to protect my hands from the heat and ran out into the room. I grabbed a few empty beer bottles from the trash and started filling them up.
“You want her?” roared Benoit defiantly. “Then come in and take her!”
“Last chance, Delacro
ix,” rumbled the voice, which I now recognized as that of Jake from the night before. “Give her up, or you die. There's three of us, and one of you. You don't stand a chance in hell.”
“You and I both know that the only way you're getting her is over my dead body – so come on in and let's do this!” bellowed Benoit.
He turned to me, and there was an urgency in his voice as he whispered hoarsely.
“Lie down flat behind me, head against the wall, right now!”
I had just finished filing my third beer bottle with boiling water, but from the way he spoke and the look in his eyes I knew that I couldn't afford to waste even a split second. I dropped down next to him, and as I did, it sounded like the 4th of July – all happening inside the room. There was thunderous hammering of gunfire as the three men outside all started firing at once through the door, and it was all I could do to cover my head, clamping my hands tight over my ears against the horrendous, ground-shaking booming, and try not to scream. Then it paused.
Through the chaos and the terror, I felt a strong, calm hand reach over to my own violently trembling hand. Benoit slipped his fingers through mine and squeezed my hand tightly.
“You're going to be okay,” he said gently, cool as a cucumber despite the erupting battle. “I'm not going to let them hurt you, do you understand?”
All I could do was nod – and at that moment, the battle really entered the room. Jake kicked the door down and charged in, a combat shotgun gripped in his hands. As he did, Benoit dived out from behind the cover of the bed, firing his pistol as he flew through the air. I grabbed two of the beer bottles, filled with boiling water, and jumped up as one of Jake's buddies stormed into the room.
I had gone through a tomboy phase as a kid and had played little league baseball. I'd been a pretty decent pitcher, and although it had been a while since I'd pitched a baseball, I still remembered how to throw. I swung the bottle as hard as I could at the guy's head – and he only barely had time to raise his pistol and fire off a shot at me before the bottle smashed into his face. The boiling water splashed all over him and he screamed, dropping his gun and clutching his face, staggering back out of the room.
