The bike spun, rotating wildly, crashed into a lamppost and bounced off, landing on the pavement, and skidding to a stop. Twenty feet from the inn's boundary. Crap.
In a moment Mr. Ramirez would realize his lights refused to come on and he would do exactly what most men did in this situation. He’d come outside to check if the rest of the neighborhood had lost power. He would see us and the boost bike that clearly didn’t look like it belonged on Earth.
I leapt over the balcony. A massive root snaked out of the ground, catching me, and set me gently on the grass. I dashed to the street, the broom in my hand splitting to reveal its glowing blue insides and flowing into a spear with a hook on the end.
Sean darted to the bike, grabbed the small passenger, and threw him backward toward the inn. Roots snatched him out of the air, the lawn yawned, and they dragged him under. I hooked the boost bike with my spear. Sean grasped the other edge, strained, and we half-dragged, half-carried it to the inn's boundary.
Behind me a door swung open. Sean grunted, I cried out, and we heaved the bike and my broom over the hedge. I spun around and faced the street.
Mr. Ramirez walked out, his Rhodesian Ridgeback, Asad, trailing him.
“Dina,” Mr. Ramirez said. “Are you okay?”
No, I’m not okay. “Some dimwit just drove his bike up and down the street!”
I didn’t even have to manufacture the outrage in my voice. I had outrage to spare. All visitors to Earth had to follow one rule: never let themselves be discovered. That was the entire purpose of the inns. I’d had too many close calls already and as soon as I got inside, the rider of the boost bike would deeply regret it.
“We’re fine,” Sean said.
“This is completely ridiculous.” I waved my arm and pulled the cardigan tighter around myself. “People have to be able to sleep.”
“People have no sense,” Mr. Ramirez said. “My power went out.”
“Looks like he hit a lamppost. Might’ve damaged the power lines,” Sean offered.
Mr. Ramirez frowned. “You might be right.” His eyes narrowed. “Wait. Isn’t your house all the way down the street? What are you doing here?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Sean said. “I went jogging.”
Asad sniffed the metal skid marks on the pavement with obvious suspicion.
“Jogging, huh.” Mr. Ramirez looked at him, then at me, taking in my cardigan and T-shirt, then at Sean again. “At two o’clock in the morning?”
I wished very hard to be invisible.
“Best time to jog,” Sean said. “Nobody bothers me.”
Asad pondered the marks and let out a single loud bark.
“Hey!” Mr. Ramirez turned to him. “What is it, boy?”
It smelled like something inhuman had landed on the pavement, that’s what.
The huge dog put himself between Mr. Ramirez and the marks and broke into a cacophony of barks.
“Hmm. He barely ever barks. I better get him inside. I’m going to file a police report in the morning.” Mr. Ramirez looked at Sean and me one last time and smiled. “Good luck with your jogging.”
No. He didn’t just wish Sean and I happy jogging.
“Come, Asad.”
I shut my eyes tight for a second.
“You okay?” Sean asked.
“Jogging?” I squeezed through clenched teeth. “That’s the best you could come up with?”
“What else was I supposed to tell him? He isn’t going to believe that I woke up out of a dead sleep, got dressed, and ran four hundred yards here in the time it took him to go downstairs and open the door.”
“He thinks we’re sleeping together.”
“So what if we are? We’re adults last time I checked.”
“Tomorrow he’ll talk to Margaret and by afternoon the whole subdivision will be talking about our 'jogging'. I’ll be fielding rumors and questions for a week. I don’t like attention, Sean. It’s bad for my business.”
Sean smiled.
Ugh. I turned around. “Come inside.”
“You sure?” He was grinning now. “People might get the wrong idea.”
“Just come inside,” I growled.
He followed me in.