Wayward

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Wayward Page 5

by Ashley Girardi


  * * * * *

  West waited at the bottom of the stairs when I burst out of the building.

  "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked harshly.

  "I followed you."

  My eyes narrowed. "Why would you do that?"

  "You didn't seem right after you left the club," he said with a casual shrug. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

  I eyed him carefully, debating whether to tell him about the thrashed apartment and the missing Sisters. Months of keeping my own secrets won out over the need for a confidant. "I'm fine."

  He nodded at the full bag slung over my shoulder. "Leaving already."

  "You should, too. The Blooded aren't good for anybody."

  "I can handle myself." He glanced up the building. I followed his gaze to the third floor and the bedroom window of my apartment. "What about those women you live with, Sisters right?"

  My suspicions grew. I couldn't remember ever telling him about Sister Maeve and Mohan. There was a chance I'd mentioned them before in passing, and just as likely that I never had.

  "They're already gone," I said slowly.

  "That's good." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "You know where you're headed?" The slight rise in his voice made it a question.

  "I'll figure something out." I was suddenly very aware of the fact that we stood alone on a deserted street—in the wee hours where night met day, when the darkness seemed endless and inescapable.

  "You need money?"

  My eyes rose in surprise. "You offering?"

  The spare change jingling at the bottom of my bag represented the bulk of my current resources.

  "Maybe I could rustle something up." West glanced nervously down the street, looking for anything like the sly vermin for which he was named. He spent to much time in his other form and it was starting to show. "Meet me at Leno's in an hour. I'll have something for you.

  I watched him walk away, shoulders hunched against the winter wind. Indecision raged within me. Something wasn't right about him—maybe the Blooded coming to town had him spooked or maybe it was something else.

  Regardless, I knew if I turned down his offer I'd regret it later. It wouldn't do much good to avoid the Blooded if I starved to death in the process.

  The bell above the door jingled as I entered Leno's.

  Big Larry was hunched over the counter, dirty apron still tied around his waist, tallying up the register receipts.

  He glanced up as I approached, greeting me with a grunt. "Didn't I let you go home, hours ago?"

  "Just meeting someone." I slid into a bar stool across from him and let my bag fall to the floor.

  Larry grunted again and ignored me.

  I looked around the restaurant. Empty, save for a kid in a hooded sweatshirt hunched over a cup of coffee in a booth by the window.

  Nancy, a pretty divorcee with two boys, worked the late shift. I nodded in thanks when she brought over a cup of coffee and set it down on the counter in front of me.

  "Long night?" she drawled, southern Illinois accent elongating her words. "You look like hell."

  I gave her a wan smile and took a careful sip of the hot coffee. "Pretty much sums up how I feel."

  "Something going on, sweetheart?" Concern tightened the laugh-lines in the corners of her eyes.

  "Sort of." I glanced over at Larry, who studiously pretended like he wasn't listening to our conversation. "I need to skip town for a few days—" I paused and my fingers clenched around the coffee mug. "Family emergency. That okay, Larry?"

  "You're fired," he said, not taking off his eyes off the tiny slips of paper spread out around him.

  "Don't mind him." Nancy waved his words away with one hand. "I'll take your shifts. Lord knows I need the money."

  "Thanks, Nan," I said, gratefully. She patted my hand and moved off to check on the kid in the booth.

  Outside, the sky was dark but I knew the sun would soon start edging over the horizon. I wanted to be out of town before dawn. That would give me at least a day's headstart. The Blooded only hunted at night.

  I couldn't wait any longer. A little extra money would be nice but I had more important things to worry about.

  I had just gathered up my bag and waved goodbye to Nancy when the bell above the door jingled again.

  West slunk into the restaurant, looking furtively around as if reassuring himself that it was safe to enter.

  "You aren't leaving, are you?" His voice came high-pitched and carried a nervous tremor.

  "I was about to." I eyed his hands, which he worked together without seeming to notice the anxious movement. "You got something for me?"

  "I just need a few more minutes." He stuck his hands in the pockets but I could still see them clenched in the fabric of his coveralls.

  "I don't have a few minutes." I tried to move past him.

  He stepped in front of me. "Please. I want to help you."

  I debated for a long moment and glanced again at the sky. Dawn would break at any moment. It was probably safe.

  "Fine," I snapped. "Five minutes."

  He nodded vigorously. "No problem. I got someone coming."

  West led us to the same booth he'd sat in earlier in the night. He took the seat facing the door and I automatically slid into the booth opposite him.

  "Leaving sounds like a decent idea." He fingered a packet of Saltine crackers sitting in a bowl on the table. "I might head out, too."

  "Yeah." I couldn't quite bring myself to care.

  "I talked some more with Rabbit after you left—" his voice lowered to a whisper. "About the Blooded."

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The muscles of my back tensed. "Is that so?"

  "He gave me a name."

  "And?" I cursed the breathy quality in my voice.

  "Well, part of a name—" West paused for dramatic effect. "Wayward."

  Wayward.

  I pushed up from the table. West grabbed my arm, preventing my escape.

  We glared into each other's eyes.

  "Who are we waiting for, West?" I hissed.

  His mouth opened but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes focused on a point over my shoulder. I heard the sound of clipped footsteps. It wasn't until that moment that I realized how completely I had been betrayed.

  A voice like oiled steel spoke from behind me.

  "He's waiting for me."

 

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