Something shifts deep in my soul at that thought. A deep, profound acceptance. Despite everything. Regardless of all the negatives, nightmares, chaos and drama that has happened since Mabon first claimed me, I’m so very glad that he did. I’m glad I met him. I’m so thankful he is in my life. For however much longer that may be.
I take his hand and pull him down the street, away from the train station.
“Where are we going?” Mabon asks as he obediently follows me.
“To find a new hotel to hide in.”
We need to get off the streets, out of view. I need time to think of a new plan.
“Oh goodie!” he exclaims brightly. “I’m horny!”
Oh lord save me. Except I think it is far too late for that. There is no saving me now. I’m past redemption.
But I have to try to make amends. I need to do better. Be better. Mabon isn’t going to like it, but I have to stop things from getting worse. I don’t regret meeting him and I’ll never feel remorse for having shared his bed. But that all has to change.
I have to stop sleeping with him.
Chapter thirty-one
As we walk into the hotel lobby, I realise this is a much nicer establishment than the last place we stayed. I think it should still be within budget and I really don’t want to walk around in public anymore than absolutely necessary. Every minute we are out there, is another minute we could be spotted, because if the Resistance are watching train stations, who knows what else they are watching.
I put on my best, most charming smile. The one I use on customers when they are dithering on whether to buy potatoes from my stall or wait until the next time they go to a supermarket.
The receptionist looks up from her computer screen. Her hair is up in a neat bun and her uniform is pristine. Her eyes widen and darken a little when she sees me. Hallelujah. If she thinks I’m attractive, this is much more likely to work. And it has to work. Nice places like this don’t normally take cash.
“Hi,” I say. “I do hope you can help us. Our luggage was stolen and I was a dummy and put my wallet in my suitcase. But I do keep some cash on me for bits and bobs.”
I pull out my roll of notes. Lord, I wish I was rich enough to carry five hundred quid around like small change.
“How much for a room, while I sort this mess out?” I smile innocently. “Sadly, all our ID was also in our bags.”
Cash and no ID is a big ask. A double whammy. And I really don’t want to risk wandering around looking for somewhere else. The dump we stayed in last night appears to be this town’s place of ill repute and I’m pretty sure retracing your steps when you are on the run is a terrible idea.
“Oh you poor thing! What a nightmare!” the receptionist exclaims.
Thank flip for that! I’m so relieved I could cry. It’s about time we had some good luck.
The receptionist types away on her computer, offers me a price that seems far too good to be true, and sets about checking us in. She doesn’t blink at the names I make up, she just types them in. Then she slides two keycards across the counter and I pick them up.
Mabon steps up to the desk. “We need oil. No, wait. What is the English word? Lube! We need lube!”
Oh my fucking god. I hastily turn away and wish the ground would swallow me up.
“Er…Our complimentary toiletry set in the ensuite includes bath oil that works really well,” says the receptionist. Then she coughs awkwardly. “So I’ve heard!”
“Fabulous!” gushes Mabon. “Thank you, my dear!”
I grab his hand and pull him towards the stairs as fast as I can without actually running. I need to get him away before he says or does anything else.
I find our room, open the door and shove Mabon inside. As the door locks behind us, I let out the breath that had been stuck in my lungs.
Mabon waltzes into the bathroom, emerges a heartbeat later, proudly brandishing a small bottle. He chucks it onto the bed and then kicks his shoes off. He lifts his hoodie up and off. And then his tee shirt.
I stare at his naked chest. His nipples are very pink in his human form. I miss the purple.
I shake my head. What the hell am I doing? I need to get a grip. Time to act like a mature grown-up.
“Keep your clothes on!” I yell frantically, because if he gets any more off, I suspect my resolve is going to shatter.
