Hunted (Riley Cray) (31 page)

Behind me I heard Holbrook shifting from one foot to the other.

“Is everything healing up well?” she asked, setting several rolled bandages on the shelf in front of her. “How’s the pain?”

“Yeah, healing fine. Pain’s not too bad,” I lied.

Glancing over a slender shoulder she gave me a skeptical look before turning back to her work.

“Busted,” Holbrook whispered at my back.

Smug bastard
, I thought, shooting him a withering glare. Smiling wide, he just shrugged his shoulders.

“Take your shirt off,” Alyssa commanded, something in her liquid velvet voice making my insides quiver and my mouth go dry.

“What?” I squeaked while Holbrook choked on his gum.

“Let me get a look at those ribs.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Biting my lip I unbuttoned my shirt, exposing the swath of bruises across my ribs and the new ones already blooming in vivid shades of red and purple on my stomach.

Donning a mask of professional detachment, Alyssa ignored my lack of a bra and noted, “These are new.” Goosebumps rose all over my skin at the soft touch of her fingers sweeping over my stomach. Fighting to keep my breaths even, I felt the muscles in my stomach jumping beneath her fingertips while every hair on my body stood on end and my nipples tightened.

“It’s been an eventful day,” I heard myself say, my voice husky.

“I see.”

For several torturous minutes she surveyed and palpated my collection of injuries, her lower lip caught between her teeth in concentration. The sight of that ripe strawberry lip being so ruthlessly tormented made my fingertips tingle with the desire to soothe and caress it. My hand was already halfway to her face before I realized what I was doing, the butterflies in my stomach shifting to embarrassment in the blink of an eye.

“Sorry,” I said, dropping my hand to rub my sweaty palm on my jeans.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault. I didn’t get a chance to feed before I came in. I should have known that touch would intensify the effects.”

“Feed?”

“She means
fuck
,” Holbrook spat, his voice dripping with uncharacteristic venom.

Turning to look at him I found him as far across the room as he could be while remaining in the same room. His arms were crossed over his chest, the muscles in his forearms bulging and his shoulders singing with tension.

Well, isn’t he just a giant ray of sunshine?

“That’s unfair, Darius,” Alyssa said, her voice holding the first icy traces of anger, and beneath it the unmistakable echo of an old hurt.

“Don’t talk to me about fair,” he shot back, fists flexing against his chest.

“I um...think I’m good,” I said, cautiously breaking the tense silence that had descended on the room.

“Yes. I think you’ll be fine. Looks to be healing up well,” Alyssa said, obviously flustered.

Snagging my shirt from where I had tossed it on the bed I turned my back on them both, hiding the pained expression on my face as I pulled it on.

“Let me help,” Holbrook said in a gruff voice, his sudden closeness making me jump.

“Thanks,” I murmured, turning around to face him, grateful for his help as he settled my shirt in place.

“Do you want me to take a look at that?” Alyssa asked, tilting her delicate chin towards his bandaged hand.

“No. Its fine,” he replied in clipped tones.

“Stop being such a baby,” I said, jostling him with my shoulder.

The sour look he shot me would have made lesser men cower, but when compared to psychotic werewolves with a taste for my innards, it didn’t even rate on my scale of intimidating. Raising my eyebrows at him, I just flashed him a bright and cheery smile.

“Pain in the ass,” he muttered under his breath.

Judging by the minute twitch of Alyssa’s lips, her hearing was as finely tuned as mine.

“Have a seat,” she said, trying not to laugh.

He shuffled across the room, shedding his jacket and tossing it on the empty cot. Climbing up onto the examination table he sat with his back ramrod straight and his shoulders full of tension. He was so not a happy camper.

Curiouser and curiouser.

“Son of a...” Holbrook hissed as Alyssa peeled away the layers of tape and gauze, revealing the raw, weeping flesh beneath. I gagged at the putrid smell that permeated the air, invading my nose and coating the back of my tongue with the stink of rotten meat.

“I’m gonna go see about some food,” I managed, backing away towards the door with my hand over my nose and mouth.

Making my way down the stairs to get away from the putrid smell of Holbrook’s blistered hand, I stepped through the back entrance of the restaurant and paused. Standing beside the stone-faced agent at the bottom of the stairs, I drew a deep breath to savor the delicious aroma of red chilies cooking in hot oil. I could feel the agent watching me, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, but was too focused on my growling stomach and watering mouth to pay him any attention.

“Stay within sight, Ms. Cray,” he said as I took a step towards the restaurant, the unexpectedness of his voice making me jump. I couldn’t recall having heard either of my bodyguards utter more than a handful of words over the last few days.

Rounding the corner into the restaurant, I spotted my other bodyguard standing beside the front door, where he kept a watchful eye on the street outside. Stepping in line behind an elderly couple, I was unable to hide my smile as they squabbled over whether or not the husband should order the Moo Shu pork. His wife was insisting that it gave him terrible gas, while he declared that it most certainly did not.

Chuckling, I snagged a menu from a nearby table and turned towards the window, allowing them the pretense of privacy. Flipping through the laminated pages, I perused the specials, deciding on the Kung Pao Triple and Szechuan chicken. Behind me the husband and wife continued to bicker, having moved on from the topic of Moo Shu pork, which he would not be getting, he would have the sesame chicken and be happy with it, to the decision between white rice and Lo Mein. Rocking back and forth on my heels I gazed out of the large windows overlooking the street.

For once, it looked like we might make it through the day without any snow, though clouds hung low and dark over the city, making everything appear gloomy and washed out. I was so ready for summer I could almost feel the sunshine on my skin and smell the sweet grass. Turning back towards the register a dark shape in the corner of my eye caught my attention, drawing me around to face the window once more.

The gloominess of the day outside made it difficult to make out the street past the bright reflection of the restaurant’s interior. Curiosity drew me forward on silent feet, the sounds of the bickering couple fading away as my attention shifted to the shape slowly coming into focus in the glass.

Horror bloomed in the pit of my stomach as Samson’s face emerged, transposed over the reflection of my pale face. Golden wolfish eyes stared back at me, full of malice and violent intent. A terrified squeak slipped out of me as his thin lips spread into a wide smile, revealing jagged yellowed teeth. Lurching back from the window I stumbled into a table behind me, sending cutlery clattering to the floor, drawing irritated looks from the staff and a raised eyebrow from my guard.

Why the hell was he gaping at me like I’d lost my mind instead of pumping Samson full of silver bullets? Shouldn’t he have been calling for back-up?

Staring back up at the window I was surprised to see nothing but the reflection of the restaurant and the empty street outside. No boogey men loomed beyond the glass.

“You ready to order?” the man behind the register asked, his dark brows drawn together in a disapproving frown.

Scrambling to pick up the silverware I had knocked on the floor, I was shaking so badly that I only succeeded in knocking over a glass, spilling water and ice cubes all over the table and floor.

“Shit!” I hissed, looking around frantically for something to sop up the water.

A young woman in a white apron bustled over with a rag, offering me a small, thin-lipped smile as she began mopping up my mess while the man behind the counter looked on with a scowl and my bodyguard let out a snorting chuckle.

Riley the klutz strikes again!

“Sorry,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks warm with embarrassment. The waitress just smiled again and nodded, pushing my hands out of the way as she gathered up the spilled ice in the rag. Straightening I took a step back, my help not needed.

“You ready to order?” the man at the register asked again, though the stiffness of his voice clearly stated that he’d be much happier if I just stopped making a mess and got the hell out of his restaurant.

“Ah, no. I think I lost my appetite,” I said, backing away towards the rear entrance. His scowl deepened as I backed away slowly, watching me closely as I wove my way through the tables to make sure I didn’t cause anymore destruction.

Getting halfway to the back hallway I turned and fled, rounding the corner so fast that I slid across the floor, careening into the wall with an “Oomph!” The guard standing at the bottom of the stairs smirked at my less than graceful arrival, and I had no doubt his buddy in the restaurant had already filled him in on my little panic attack. Slowing to a walk, I lifted my chin high and carried on towards the stairs, refusing to let him see just how embarrassed I was.

“...has a right to know, Darius. You have to tell her,” Alyssa was saying as I came up the stairs, slightly out of breath and still red-faced.

“No, I don’t,” Holbrook replied, his icy tone leaving no room for argument.

“Tell who what?” I asked breathlessly, resting a hand on the doorframe.

They froze for an instant and then sprang apart like a pair of teenagers caught making out.

“No one. Nothing,” he answered, avoiding my gaze.

Alyssa frowned, pursing her kissable lips disapprovingly, but didn’t say anything else about whatever they had been arguing over.

“So, what happened?” she asked instead, pressing a gauze pad over the oozing mess of his palm.

“Glamour charm exploded.”

“Must’ve been pretty powerful.”

“Where would you even find something with that much juice?” I asked, keeping my distance.

“Are you asking me? Darius would know more about that than I would,” she replied with what looked like a spiteful twitch of her lips.

He frowned, audibly grinding his teeth. “No. I wouldn’t,” he said, glaring at her.

“Well...” Alyssa said slowly, wrapping a bandage around his hand. “There are several practitioners around town putting out glamour charms, but I can only think of a couple who have the ability to make one as strong as that one must’ve been. You’re looking for one of the Grave sisters. They sell their charms out of The Sage Brush over on Colfax.”

“Sage Brush. Colfax. Got it,” I said, still puzzling over the mounting animosity between them.

“Am I good to go?” Holbrook asked stiffly once Alyssa had secured the bandage with a couple of butterfly clips.

“Yes, you should be fine,” she answered with a sigh.

Turning away from him under the guise of clearing up the pile of soiled gauze, she tried to hide her face behind the fall of her hair, but I caught a clear glimpse of the hurt and disappointment in her face and once again wondered what the hell had passed between them. Holbrook’s earlier spitefulness hinted at some of what might have happened, but I had a feeling there was more to their story than what met the eye.

Turning towards me, still refusing to look me in the eye, Holbrook collected his jacket from the bed I had occupied just the day before, and shrugged it on over stiff shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Dazed by his brusque manner I fell into step behind him, and was already on the threshold of the door when Alyssa rushed across the room towards me, enveloping me in her arms.

“Be careful, Riley,” she said earnestly, squeezing me hard.

“Er, sure,” I replied, wondering at the tearful edge to her voice.

Hugging her awkwardly, I waited several moments before easing myself out of her grip. Offering her a halfhearted wave, I traipsed down the stairs after Holbrook who was already halfway out the door that led to the tiny parking lot behind the building.

“What happened to the take-out?” he asked as we settled into the SUV.

“Oh, ah...you know, I think I saw a rat in the kitchen,” I replied, feigning disgust as a shudder of fear ran through me at the memory of Samson’s face superimposed over my reflection.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I DIDN’T REALIZE Loki had decided he wanted to come with us to talk to the purveyor of The Sage Brush until he had jumped down out of the SUV, and was already trotting across the sidewalk to the door. He may be a cat, but he tends to exhibit some very un-catlike behavior. Oftentimes he seems more like a dog than a cat, and other times I swear that he is looking at me with human intelligence. He’s a peculiar creature, but then again, I suppose I don’t fit into the niche society has crafted for me either.