Dangerously Charming (12 page)

She could feel the chuckle resonating in his chest more than she could actually hear it over the noise of the road and the wind whistling past her helmet. Not for the first time, she sent a mental thank-you to Barbara for the loan of her second-best leather jacket and riding pants.

Fifteen minutes and about that many interminable miles later, they pulled off the road into a service station–slash–convenience store that looked like it had had its last facelift back in the late fifties. Jenna didn't care, as long as the attendant behind the counter was willing to give her the key to the bathrooms around the side.

She splashed a little hot water on her face after she washed her hands, but it didn't make her feel any warmer. Rubbing her butt to try and get the blood flowing again didn't help much either. She sighed. If she didn't toughen up, this was going to be a very long trip.

“How are you doing?” Mick asked her as she reentered the shop and handed the keys back to the clerk behind the counter. He looked about eighteen, with stringy hair and a chin full of pimples, but he gave her a shy smile as he took the long rectangle that said
BATHROOM, DO NO
T LOSE
on it.

“Honestly?” Jenna said. “I'm feeling a little ragged around
the edges. I'm sorry. I guess it takes a while to get used to long rides on two wheels instead of four.”

“I expect the rain isn't helping any,” Mick said. As if his words were a signal, the drizzle they'd been driving in for the last two hours suddenly turned into a deluge.

“Oh,
come on
,” Jenna said. “Now, that's just not funny.”

The kid behind the counter tried to cover his laugh with one bony hand, without much success. “Not really riding weather, is it, miss? Unless you're a duck.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Quack,” Jenna said weakly. She turned to Mick. “I know you wanted to make it a little farther today, but do you think maybe we could stop a little early? Maybe we could find someplace near here to stay the night. Hopefully the rain will have stopped by the morning.”

Mick shrugged his massive shoulders, clearly not bothered by the ride, the rain, or the cold, but willing to do whatever she wanted. “Your quest, your call.” He turned to young clerk. “I don't suppose there's a hotel or motel anywhere near here that would have a room for the night? Maybe a campground?”

The kid squinted at them doubtfully. “Only thing open this time of the year is the Come On Inn. It's mostly for truckers and such passing through. The few nice places are only open come summer, once tourist season starts. You know, them bed-and-breakfast kind of things. But the Come On Inn is okay. The Beckers—the folks who own it—are honest and the sheets are clean, if you don't mind that it ain't fancy.”

“If they have hot showers and something to sit on that isn't moving, it's fine with me,” Jenna said in a fervent voice.

Mick's lips twitched. “I guess you'd better give me directions,” he said. He glanced at the crooked clock on the wall, which said four thirty-seven and had actual hands, not a digital readout. The big hand was a hunter holding a shotgun, and the little hand was a fleeing duck. “And maybe some idea of where we can pick up some food along the way, since I'm thinking my friend here is going to be hungry soon.”

Jenna gave him a mock scowl, hands on her hips. “Just because I'm eating for two doesn't mean all I think about is food.”

“There's a pizza place right down the road, about a mile from the motel,” the boy said. “They make the best sausage pizza you ever had too.”

“
Pizza
,” Jenna breathed.
“With sausage.”

Mick snorted. “I stand corrected. Now, about those directions.”

*   *   *

THE
Come On Inn was older than the gas station by a couple of decades and hadn't had a paint job in almost as long. Straggly weeds grew up amid the potholes that generously dotted the parking lot, and the neon sign at the entrance was missing the small
O
and the second
N
. There were only two cars in the lot, one in front of the door labeled
OFFICE
, and one way down at the end of the long, one-story building. A small ancient-looking dog of indiscriminate parentage barked at them as they walked under the overhanging porch roof in front of the entrance.

“Nice place,” Mick said cheerfully. Jenna couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

The bell over the door gave a tone-deaf clang as they walked through and the skinny woman behind the desk looked up from her gossip magazine with a startled and not entirely pleased look on her narrow face. A sharp nose sniffed the air, as if trying to discern which ill wind had blown them through her door.

“Do you have a reservation?” she asked.

Jenna opened her mouth to say something (probably sarcastic), but Mick stepped forward and gave the woman the full benefit of his blue-eyed stare and white-toothed smile. “I'm so sorry,” he said. “We don't mean to inconvenience you. But this rain has made traveling on kind of difficult, and the nice young man at the convenience store recommended you
so highly, we thought we'd take the chance that maybe you'd have a room available for two cold, wet strangers.”

Jenna thought he was laying it on a little heavily, but the woman behind the desk gave him an answering, if slightly less attractive smile, and said, “Well, I'm sure I can come up with something. We've got a couple of rooms that are already cleaned and ready to go.”

She pursed her lips, gazing doubtfully at Jenna. “You folks gonna need one bed or two?”

“Two, please,” Jenna said quickly. “Thank you.”

The woman shook her head. “Huh. Suit yourself. But if it was me, you'd better believe I'd share with this one.” She winked broadly at Mick, who took it in stride.

Of course, Jenna thought, he'd probably gotten that kind of reaction all of his life. And that was a lot of winks, all things considered.

“That's eighty-five dollars, in advance,” the woman said. “And we gotta have a credit card on file in case you damage anything. Checkout's at noon sharp.”

Mick's smile slid away as he patted his pockets. “I have some cash,” he told Jenna, “but I didn't think to grab extra when I went back to pack our clothes. I'm sorry. I don't usually use much money when I'm on the road, and it has been almost a year since I went traveling. I guess I'm out of practice with this sort of thing.” He made a face. “And I don't have a credit card.”

Jenna supposed that made sense. Hard to get a credit card when there is no record of your existence, unless you count the pages of some obscure Russian fairy tales. It wasn't as though she'd expected him to pay their way anyhow. As he'd said, this was her quest. Although considering the dubious state of her account balance, she hoped that they'd be able to camp out for most of the nights of their trip, as Mick had suggested. Apparently, that was mostly what he did when he was on the road. This night under a roof was for her benefit, not his.

“Here you go,” she said, handing over her card with only a tiny twinge, and then held her breath as the woman ran it through the machine.

“Okay,” the woman said, smiling at Mick and handing him the key even though he hadn't been the one who paid. “You're in number eight, second down from the end. It's nice and quiet down there.”

Jenna figured it was probably pretty quiet no matter which room you were in, but at this point she didn't care.

The room wasn't much to look at: faded paisley curtains, mismatched blankets with off-white bedspreads, and a cheap television chained to the dresser. But as promised, it seemed reasonably clean, and there was a lock on the door and hot water in the bathroom. Right now, that was all she cared about. That and getting into clothes that didn't drip on the flat gray carpet.

“Do you mind if I take a shower first?” she asked Mick. He'd toed off his boots, slung his black leather jacket onto the back of a chair, and was sprawled on his bed, seemingly as at ease as if he was in his own home. His long blond hair had developed a slight wave from the dampness, and his tee shirt clung to his abs in a completely distracting way that made her dart into the bathroom before he could even answer the question.

A minute later, he knocked on the door before she'd even gotten the water running.

“What?” She had the paranoid notion that somehow he'd been able to discern what she'd been thinking.

The door opened a crack and a large hand held out fringed white leather saddlebags.

“I just thought you might want some dry clothes when you were done,” Mick said in a carefully neutral tone. Jenna was pretty sure she could hear the laughter underneath though. Most women probably ran toward him when they saw him like that, and not away. Well, she wasn't most women.

Nope, she was an idiot.

She grabbed the bag and muttered, “Thanks,” before shutting the door. Maybe she should consider a cold shower instead of a hot one, if she could find him this unnervingly attractive even when she was soaking wet, tired, and hungry.

*   *   *

DAY
fought the urge to follow Jenna into the bathroom and help her with that shower. After all, water conservation was important. He couldn't believe he found her so unnervingly attractive even when she was wet, tired, and cranky. Unfortunately, the more time they spent together, the more enchanting he found her. This was going to be a long, frustrating trip.

In more ways than one.

He couldn't believe he'd forgotten to grab money out of his stash when he'd gone back to the cabin. He'd been on his way to get it when the bike had sounded its alarm, and afterward, all he could think about was getting back to Jenna and making sure she was safe, although logically he knew that nothing would happen to her while she was under Barbara and Liam's protection.

So much for not getting involved.

It wasn't that he was one of those guys who couldn't stand to have a woman pick up the bill, exactly. It was just that he was discovering that the only thing worse than helping someone when you didn't want to was
not
being able to help them. Now that he was no longer a Rider, he couldn't protect her from the effects of the Otherworld. He couldn't get her to where they needed to be any faster than any Human guy could, and now he couldn't even help pay their expenses along the way. He clenched his hands. Maybe Zilya had been right, and he truly was worthless now.

Although there was at least one thing he could do that he was pretty sure would make Jenna forgive him, at least temporarily, for the wet and the cold. He pulled open the drawer in the bedside table and found exactly what he was looking for, then picked up the phone.

When Jenna came out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, her normally pale face pink from the heat of the shower, looking clean and absurdly sexy in a pair of pajama bottoms and a V-necked blue-gray sweatshirt, she gave a glad cry and rushed over to sit next to him on the far bed.

“You got the pizza delivered!” she said. “Oh my God, with sausage too.” Anything else she might have had to say was smothered by the large wedge dripping with cheese that she shoved into her mouth.

Day smothered a grin and started in on his own piece. The odor of spicy meat and tomato sauce filled the room, making it seem homier than it had. Next to him, Jenna made sensual noises of satisfaction as she devoured her half of dinner, something Day tried to ignore as he finished off his own portion. He did love a woman who liked to eat, even if it was because she was doing it for two.

Afterward, they sat back and watched some silly television show about an author who worked with the police. It didn't make a lot of sense to Day, but it seemed to make Jenna happy, and at least it kept him from trying to make conversation. If you didn't count the running commentary inside his own head, a constant echo of grief and guilt and remorse.

“Are you okay?” Jenna asked some time later.

Day looked up, startled. “I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

“Because I turned off the TV twenty minutes ago,” she said. “And you haven't said a word since then. You seem very far away. I just wondered if something was wrong.”

Day scrubbed one hand across his face, feeling the end-of-the-day stubble rasping underneath his fingers. He still hadn't taken his shower, and he suspected he looked like a down-on-his-luck pirate. It was a good thing he definitely wasn't trying to seduce Jenna, since he suspected she'd run away in horror if he tried. Of course, if she knew what a screwup he was, she'd do that anyway.

“I was just thinking,” he said.

Jenna turned a little to face him instead of the TV across
the room. Somehow they'd ended up still sitting on the same bed when they'd finished eating. He hadn't really noticed it before, but now she seemed too close for comfort. Despite the lingering odor of cheese and sausage, he could smell the peppermint shampoo she'd used on her hair, which was mostly dry and flowed over her shoulders like a cloak. Day knew it would feel like silk if he reached out and touched it. He didn't.

Instead, he shifted so he was a little farther away, turning to face her too. “It's been tough,” he admitted. “Adjusting to not being a Rider. It is all I've ever known, and all I've been for thousands of years. I don't know how to be anything else. So in part, I was thinking about how much more useful I would have been to you a year ago, when I still was one.”

To his immense relief, Jenna merely looked interested, instead of pitying. “I can't imagine living for centuries, or having a career for that long, come to think of it. I've never had a job that lasted more than three or four years. Just never found my calling, I guess. You were lucky you had one; not everyone gets that.”

Day hadn't thought of things in that light. “I suppose that's true,” he said slowly. “Although I'm not sure you could say it was a calling, exactly. More like what I was created to be. Maybe that's what makes it so hard to lose it. But mostly I was thinking about how much my brother Alexei likes pizza.”