When I turned, Standing Bear’s dead body was still spread-eagle on the floor, his neck twisted in a sickening manner, but his buddy was nowhere to be found. Christian sauntered through the living room and shoved a dagger into Standing Bear’s chest. Then he stood up and scratched his beard as if solving a crime.
Or committing one.
“Where’s the other guy?” I asked.
“Sunbathing on the patio. Good thing she has a privacy fence.”
“What’s the plan?”
He rotated his shoulders and glanced around. “I’m going to torch the house and put the gasoline can in your friend’s hand. He’s too weak from blood loss to run, and if the police show up, they’ll just think he’s on drugs.”
I sighed. “This wasn’t in the brochure.”
“Do me a favor. Next time you decide to take a bite out of crime, lick the wounds. You can’t just leave victims lying around with bite marks on their necks, and I’m not particularly fond of cleaning up your mess.”
“Not a fan of whiskers? That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
Christian arched a brow and made a quarter turn.
The light in the room was dimming; it must have been after sunset. “Should we call a cab?”
He barked out a laugh. “Jaysus, you can’t be serious. Let’s call a cab from a soon-to-be crime scene. Do you think the driver will wonder why the house is engulfed in flames?” He circled the body. “By the time I get this bonfire going, it’ll be dark. I can shadow walk, and you can flash. We’ll meet up at the motel we passed on the way—that one you were making fun of.”
I switched over to a lyrical Irish accent. “Ah, you mean the one with the shamrock? Me thinks of home every time I see that lucky clover.”
He reached behind him, feeling his coat. “Feck me. It never fails. Anytime I find a good jacket, someone puts a hole in it. And no, notthatmotel. I’m referring to the one with the sign advertising complimentary shrimp with cable.”
I wanted to laugh, but it hurt to breathe. “I’ll be in the backyard. Hurry up.”
It didn’t take longbefore Christian finished staging the crime scene and joined me out back. I was sitting on our bags with my eye on my attacker—probably a Shifter—who was still out like a light. I struggled to stay focused despite the pain in my back.
I watched Christian pour a trail of gas to the back door. He set the empty canister by the unconscious guy and then patted his pockets. “Got a match? I don’t smoke.”
“Search him,” I suggested, nudging the body with my foot.
Christian rifled through his pockets and stared up at me. “Any other suggestions?”
I staggered toward the porch and squatted at the end of the gas trail. “Get ready to run.” I harnessed my light and channeled it to my fingertips until there were tiny sparks. The gas lit, and the flame raced inside and ignited into a fireball.
With lightning speed, we raced through the back gate and down the alley. Christian had the bags and all but vanished in the dark shadows. I felt my energy waning, so I balled up my light and flashed to the street in the distance. It took me a second to get my bearings, and when I remembered the route to the main road, I took off—everything around me a blur as I moved at incredible speeds. I had to keep stopping to catch my breath, my energy growing weaker. Using too much light did that, and the hole in my back wasn’t helping matters.
Once I reached the main road, I had to be careful about not flashing in bright areas. Surveillance cameras might pick it up if this small town had any.
I crossed the motel parking lot at a sluggish pace. I thought my lungs would burst, and my hair was wet from the drizzle. Up ahead, Christian was leaning coolly against a wall.
He gave his pretend watch a cursory glance. “Where have you been? I carried two bags and still managed to get us a room with time to spare.”
“Which room?”
He furrowed his brows. “You seem off. And why is your heart rate so low if you just ran a marathon?”
When I reached down to pick up my bag, little white stars appeared.
Christian gripped the back of my jacket and hooked his arm around me. Without a word, he grabbed both bags and opened the door next to him. He set me down on the bed and went to close the door and shut the drapes. All I could do was lie there and watch. When he flipped on a lamp, I laughed.
The bedspread was blood red. “At least I won’t have to worry about leaving stains.”
Christian sat me up and peeled my jacket off. “For feck’s sake. Why didn’t you tell me it was that bad?”
