Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)

As someone who had barely traveled across a few states in her life, I had done a lot of sightseeing in the past twenty-four hours. But in spite of the breathtaking views, I sensed myself beginning to doze off beneath the sun’s comforting rays.

Until my ears picked up on an odd noise behind us. I had grown so use to the quiet atmosphere, the only sounds being Navan’s deep breathing, and the rhythmic beating of his wings around us. But this… this was different.

“Did you hear that?” I asked, looking over his shoulder. There was nothing other than blue sky and clouds.

“What?” he asked.

Maybe I shouldn’t have expected him to hear it, given what I knew about coldbloods’ senses being impaired when they became ‘hotbloods.’

It had sounded like a grunt—loud enough to have been distinguishable to me, but fleeting enough to make me think twice and wonder if I had imagined it. I held my breath for several moments, seeing if it would return, and when it didn’t, I concluded that I had most likely imagined it.

Still, it left me with a vague sense of unease. “It’s nothing,” I muttered, not wanting to project my own paranoia on Navan, when there was literally nothing surrounding us for miles. He had enough on his plate to worry about.

But then, barely ten minutes later, I heard another noise—that I could’ve sworn was a distinct second pair of flapping wings.

“Navan,” I murmured, my eyes going wide as I gazed around us. “I… I know this sounds crazy but, I feel like someone’s following us.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t know.” I looked around the empty sky again. “I’m hearing noises. A grunt, and then, something that sounded like another pair of wings. Maybe I’m just tired but…”

Navan did a sudden about turn in the air. I yelped and clutched his sweater tighter as he swooped upward, and then back around in a loop, so he could get a good look behind us without losing momentum.

“I don’t see anyone,” he said, his brow furrowing. “And invisibility is not something we coldbloods have a potion for, so it probably is your imagination.” Nonetheless, he did another loop to look around, his expression worried. “Maybe we should stop for a bit—for both of our sakes.” His head panned downward, and I realized we were approaching a dense area of buildings, nestled in a valley scattered with glistening lakes.

I nodded, glad for the suggestion. I had sensed Navan’s speed slowly faltering. He had been doing his best to keep going, but it made much more sense to stop and rest a while, then continue with renewed energy.

“I agree,” I said. “Even if we stop for an hour or two, it’ll do us some good.”

I had barely said the words when his grip tightened on me, and we dipped abruptly, soaring at breakneck speed toward the town. He was aiming for a large patch of trees. We descended, touching down in a peaceful forest. He withdrew his wings beneath his sweater, which was torn from our emergency exit earlier. Then, after he had adjusted the heavy bag on his shoulder, we walked through the trees and arrived at a quiet road.

We both looked up at the sky as we stepped out into the open. Even though my rational self knew there was nobody following us, my mind kept taunting me, making the back of my neck prickle. I needed some proper, uninterrupted sleep.

Above us was nothing but perfect blue sky and sunshine. Even so, we found ourselves sticking to the shadows, and taking a winding path through the town. We kept beneath the awnings of stalls as we trailed through a crowded marketplace. We were in Canada, based on people’s accents. We passed a clothing stand and picked up two extra outfits for both of us, using a handful of Canadian dollars Navan had in his bag. His purchase included a new sweater, which he put on immediately, given that his torn one was attracting more attention than we wanted—especially from young tourist women. I saw them staring and heard their titters as we walked past, commenting that he didn’t look like he was from around here, one of them even asking for a photo, probably assuming he was some kind of celebrity. Navan frowned at the curvy blonde who had asked, before politely declining.

I hung back a little and stole a once-over of Navan as we kept walking, allowing myself to quietly appreciate his… aesthetics from a distance, now that we weren’t in immediate mortal danger. Dang. It was hard not to feel like a lucky girl to have had him clutching me to his chest for the past several hours. If my nerves hadn’t been playing up so much on the journey, I would have appreciated it a lot more.

I quickened my pace as he looked over his shoulder, frowning and wondering why I’d hung back. We continued through the town, trying to avoid attention while looking for somewhere we could crash in safety for an hour or two. We ended up finding shelter in the form of “Cricklewood House.” It was a small, cozy-looking hotel that bordered the bustling marketplace.

It met our unspoken criteria of being inconspicuous, so we entered the reception area. Neither of us had ID, but thankfully I persuaded the owner with upfront cash. The elderly woman seemed to take pity on our tired faces and led us to a room… which I realized, as the door swung open, contained one double bed.

“Um, actually we’re not a couple—” Before I could complete my request for a room with two single beds, she had already turned to head back down the staircase. Given that we were lucky to have a room in here at all, it was best not to push it.

I looked at Navan, towering above me in the low-ceilinged corridor, and swallowed. We were going to have to make this work.

We stepped inside. Pretty floral curtains were drawn against the open window, letting in a mountain breeze that carried the scent of fresh bread from the bakery next door. My eyes fell on two large bottles of water, and a basket of fruit and sandwiches on a little table in one corner of the room, and I headed there first. Sipping from the water, I realized how dehydrated I was, and downed half a bottle, before attacking the sandwiches.

The door clicked as Navan shut it, and I glanced over at him. He stood still, gazing around our small quarters, before his eyes fell on the elephant in the room—the double bed.

“You can sleep there,” I said quickly, before things could get too awkward. “I’ve been dozing on and off during the journey, and you need quality sleep more than me.”