His jaw clenched again. He didn’t look at her. As his hands flexed around the wheel, she knew he was debating.
“You have enough money for a motel, don’t you? I’m dying for a shower. And at least a couple hours of sleep. I’ve been awake for nearly thirty-six. If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m going to turn into a zombie, and then I’ll seriously slow you down.”
“Fine,” he said as the truck slowed. They were coming into some sort of small town. Lights shone in from outside. “We’ll rest for a few hours, but don’t get any ideas. This doesn’t change anything. You’re not going anywhere but where I want you to go.”
That’s what you think.
Maelea bit her lip as they rolled through the town, which consisted of one stoplight, a bank, a grocery store, a fast-food joint, and a truck stop. On the far end, Gryphon parked the truck in front of an eight-unit, one-story motel set back from the other businesses, with a flashing vacancy light in the office window.
Definitely a far cry from the mansion she’d lived in on Lake Washington, but she didn’t need fancy. She just needed him distracted. “I’ll wait here while you check in.”
“Not even.” He unlocked her from the dashboard then snapped the free cuff on his own wrist. Anger burning in her gut, she bit her tongue so as not to antagonize him and slid across the seat to climb out the driver’s side door.
Cool air rushed over her face as she stepped from the truck. Her muscles ached from sitting so long. Before she could catch her breath, Gryphon hooked their joined wrists around her back, tugging her body tight to his side so he could lean down and whisper, “If you say or do anything that upsets me, you won’t be the only one I hurt.”
Her stomach tightened. He was talking about the clerk in the office. Maelea nodded once, ignoring the heat radiating from his body and the blood and gore still fresh on his clothes. How did he plan to get by the clerk looking like that? The man would undoubtedly notice Gryphon had been through a massacre.
Her pulse sped up as they walked across the dark parking lot, the only sound their boots clicking on the pavement. Maybe that was her way out. If she could get the clerk to notice the blood and gore on Gryphon’s clothing, he could alert someone. Call for help. She could escape in the chaos.
The door to the office was locked, but a sign over a call button next to the night window read Press After Hours. Gryphon pushed the button, moved close to the window. Through the glass, Maelea watched as a door at the back of the office opened, and a teenager, probably no more than fifteen, ambled out.
Her spirits dropped. The teen barely even glanced their way. Through the grate in the window he said, “You need a room?”
“One,” Gryphon answered.
The kid slid a form and pen across the counter through the opening in the window. “Fill that out. You got a car?”
Gryphon pointed behind him with the pen, then scribbled info on the form with his free hand. As he wrote, Maelea watched the kid, hoping, praying he’d notice what the hell was happening on the other side of the glass.
Almost as if he’d heard her prayer, the teen looked up. Curious eyes gave way to horror.
Yes, yes! Call the police. Call anyone!
“How much?” Gryphon asked as he set the pen down and slid it and the paper back through the narrow opening in the window.
The kid didn’t answer. His face went ashen.
Hope burst in Maelea’s chest.
“I…uh…” The kid reached for the paper, started to move back.
Gryphon’s free hand sprang through the gap in the window and gripped the teen’s arm at the wrist.
The teen tensed, tried to pull back. “Hey! Let me…”
His voice trailed off as he locked eyes with Gryphon, then slowly, the fight rushed out of his body, and he eased a step closer to the window.
No. No! Maelea’s muscles tensed. She tried to pull away but Gryphon held her too tight.
“That’s right,” Gryphon said in a gentle voice. “Nothing here out of the ordinary. Just a couple passing through, needing a room for the night, right?”
“Yeah,” the kid repeated in a monotone voice. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Maelea’s gaze shot to the teen’s wrist, where Gryphon’s finger was running a slow circle over the boy’s pulse point. élencho. He was using a mind-numbing technique on the boy. What little hope she’d had for help faded with every muscle the boy relaxed.
“Now,” Gryphon said calmly. “How much for the room?”
“Thirty…eight dollars.”
“We also need some food. Little lady here can’t wait to get me alone, but she’s hungry. Think you can run to the fast-food joint down the road and get us something to eat?”
“S-sure.”