best he’d be a blur to anyone that was even able to notice him.
At the motel Alastair finally slowed to a walk, then set Lu down. She bent over, hands on her knees, her entire body vibrating with adrenaline as she tried not to throw up. After a few moments she straightened up and looked over her shoulder, expecting one of those creatures to appear at any second, and reached for Alastair. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Alastair had stopped in the middle of a parking lot at the back of the motel and was surveying the row of cars. A family of tourists exiting a minivan stared at him, gaping at his bare torso and feet, the pajama pants, the wild black hair tousled around his beautiful face. The parents quickly shepherded their children out of the lot.
“Which one do you think is ours?” he asked. She thought he seemed surprisingly calm. And his breathing was slow and even despite the death-defying sprint.
Lu spared a glance at the cars before looking back over her shoulder. “The one on the far right. You’d probably need tinted windows if you burn in the sun,” she murmured, feeling the cold wetness of the pavement seeping into her socks.
“Smart girl,” said Joey, appearing abruptly beside them. They both turned to look at him. His chin was dark red, as was the front of his formerly white t-shirt. Lu’s mouth fell open, and Joey lightly took hold of her shoulders and propelled her toward the old black Chevy Impala she’d pointed out.
He slid behind the wheel, and first Lu and then Alastair scooted in beside him on the big front seat. The powerful engine roared to life and Joey calmly pulled out onto the boulevard, heading south. “I don’t think they’re following us,” he said. “I took out two of them and injured a third. The rest of the pack sort of lost its motivation after that.”
Alastair asked, “What were those things?”
“Weres,” Joey said casually.
“Weres?” Alastair echoed.
Joey glanced at him. “Wow, you really don’t remember a thing. Weres as in werewolves.”
“And why were they chasing us?”
“Most likely because someone paid them to find and/or kill you.”
“Why would they have to be paid?”
“They know that any werewolf that tangles with you runs a very good risk of winding up dead. So they probably wouldn’t come after you on their own. Not unless they had a good reason, like a fat paycheck.”
“Do you think my maker hired them to find me?”
“They normally don’t like to do Augustine’s dirty work,” Joey said. “Not after he killed and stuffed their chief council leader and added him to his trophy case. But then again, it’s not impossible. Augustine’s filthy rich, and money often speaks louder than loyalty.” Joey seemed to remember the blood on his face then and licked his lower lip. “Gross. Kinda gamey. Could one of you give me something to clean up with?”
Lu roused herself from her daze, glancing around and coming up with a half full water bottle and an old bandana. She soaked the cloth and handed it to Joey, who scrubbed at the drying blood. As he did this she asked, “So there are now a couple dead werewolves in the woods outside my house?”
“I doubt it,” Joey said. “The rest of the pack would have taken the bodies with them when they fled. They’re more animal than human, but they still tend to their wounded and bury their dead.”
Alastair was lost in thought, staring out the window as the outskirts of Ashland flickered past. Joey finished cleaning up and stuffed the bloody rag under his seat, then glanced at Lu and asked, “How you holding up, Cupcake?”
“Well, I didn’t barf, so I guess I’m doing ok,” she said, her voice still slightly shaky.
“I’m surprised you’re even talking,” Joey said. “I’d expect you to be catatonic after all that.”
“How did they find him at my house?” Lu asked.
“That,” said Joey, “is an excellent question. Not like they just stumbled
At the motel Alastair finally slowed to a walk, then set Lu down. She bent over, hands on her knees, her entire body vibrating with adrenaline as she tried not to throw up. After a few moments she straightened up and looked over her shoulder, expecting one of those creatures to appear at any second, and reached for Alastair. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Alastair had stopped in the middle of a parking lot at the back of the motel and was surveying the row of cars. A family of tourists exiting a minivan stared at him, gaping at his bare torso and feet, the pajama pants, the wild black hair tousled around his beautiful face. The parents quickly shepherded their children out of the lot.
“Which one do you think is ours?” he asked. She thought he seemed surprisingly calm. And his breathing was slow and even despite the death-defying sprint.
Lu spared a glance at the cars before looking back over her shoulder. “The one on the far right. You’d probably need tinted windows if you burn in the sun,” she murmured, feeling the cold wetness of the pavement seeping into her socks.
“Smart girl,” said Joey, appearing abruptly beside them. They both turned to look at him. His chin was dark red, as was the front of his formerly white t-shirt. Lu’s mouth fell open, and Joey lightly took hold of her shoulders and propelled her toward the old black Chevy Impala she’d pointed out.
He slid behind the wheel, and first Lu and then Alastair scooted in beside him on the big front seat. The powerful engine roared to life and Joey calmly pulled out onto the boulevard, heading south. “I don’t think they’re following us,” he said. “I took out two of them and injured a third. The rest of the pack sort of lost its motivation after that.”
Alastair asked, “What were those things?”
“Weres,” Joey said casually.
“Weres?” Alastair echoed.
Joey glanced at him. “Wow, you really don’t remember a thing. Weres as in werewolves.”
“And why were they chasing us?”
“Most likely because someone paid them to find and/or kill you.”
“Why would they have to be paid?”
“They know that any werewolf that tangles with you runs a very good risk of winding up dead. So they probably wouldn’t come after you on their own. Not unless they had a good reason, like a fat paycheck.”
“Do you think my maker hired them to find me?”
“They normally don’t like to do Augustine’s dirty work,” Joey said. “Not after he killed and stuffed their chief council leader and added him to his trophy case. But then again, it’s not impossible. Augustine’s filthy rich, and money often speaks louder than loyalty.” Joey seemed to remember the blood on his face then and licked his lower lip. “Gross. Kinda gamey. Could one of you give me something to clean up with?”
Lu roused herself from her daze, glancing around and coming up with a half full water bottle and an old bandana. She soaked the cloth and handed it to Joey, who scrubbed at the drying blood. As he did this she asked, “So there are now a couple dead werewolves in the woods outside my house?”
“I doubt it,” Joey said. “The rest of the pack would have taken the bodies with them when they fled. They’re more animal than human, but they still tend to their wounded and bury their dead.”
Alastair was lost in thought, staring out the window as the outskirts of Ashland flickered past. Joey finished cleaning up and stuffed the bloody rag under his seat, then glanced at Lu and asked, “How you holding up, Cupcake?”
“Well, I didn’t barf, so I guess I’m doing ok,” she said, her voice still slightly shaky.
“I’m surprised you’re even talking,” Joey said. “I’d expect you to be catatonic after all that.”
“How did they find him at my house?” Lu asked.
“That,” said Joey, “is an excellent question. Not like they just stumbled
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