Any other time, the experience would have terrified me. Foxes thrived on solid ground, not the air. But my fear didn’t hold sway over me right now. It didn’t matter because there was no way I was backing out now. Every beat of Munchie’s massive wings brought me closer to Sherwood and Jehanne’s window—closer to revenge and security for the kids at the orphanage.
I wanted to make sure the children were safe and bring the bastard who had torn my life apart down—all in one fell swoop.
I was so determined to get my revenge that I’d thought about it the entire night before. And in my musings, I’d had a great idea. One that I’d set into motion before we left the ranch. The letter Sherwood had written to Robin’s mother all those years ago burned in my pocket. I’d stolen it before we left the ranch house and planned on planting it somewhere in the vampire’s suite. It would be perfect evidence later, after I called in a tip to the cops. I needed to plant it without Robin taking notice.
With three more beats of his massive wings, Munchie brought us even with the top floor. I motioned him toward the window I’d cracked open so we could enter the hotel without notice, and Munchie maneuvered as close to the window as his wings allowed. I squirmed, and his talons dug into my skin as I worked to pull the window out more. The gear was so smooth that the gap widened with little effort.
Then came the hard part.
I motioned for Munchie to fly lower, but before he could do so, Will flew up against him.
Robin, in his fox aspect, pointed to himself and then to the window. My eyes narrowed. I wanted to be the first to go inside so I could stuff the paper somewhere. Robin couldn’t see me do that. He wouldn’t like me planting evidence—especially evidence that rightly belonged to him. He probably wouldn’t even allow it. But before I could argue that I should go first, Munchie moved back.
Robin slipped through the window without incident, shifted, and began searching the room, making sure no one else was there.
Two minutes later, he returned, stuck his hand out, and grabbed me by the scruff of my neck to pull me inside.
Munchie and Will flew in last, but unlike me, the birds didn’t transform. Instead, they soared around the perimeter of the room, searching for cameras that Robin or I might have missed. If they found any, we’d have to get Tinker to erase the footage right away. While Robin watched them, I darted to the couch, ripped the letter out of my pocket, and stuck it between the cushions. I glanced toward my ex and breathed a sigh of relief. He was still watching the birds. He hadn’t noticed a thing.
Planting evidence, check. Now we need to rob the joint and get out alive. Easy peasy.
Will released a loud screech which Munchie echoed—the signal that all was clear.
“Looks like we’re good in here,” Robin said. “Show us to the laundry chute, Marian.”
The hatch was right outside the master bedroom. When we reached it, I opened the gold door and stuck my head inside.
It was as small as I remembered. Robin and I would fit easily, but as we were on the top floor, the fall would kill us. Thankfully, Will’s shifter aspect was small enough that he could fly us most of the way down. Munchie’s harpy eagle aspect, however, was too damn big. He wouldn’t be able to give anyone a lift. Will would have to fly him down last.
“Me first,” I said.
The guys stepped aside, and I shifted again. Will’s talons latched onto my back a moment later, and Robin opened the hatch so we could get through. The next thing I knew, Will soared through the opening and downward.
We’d descended at least fifteen floors when the bin of towels and sheets at the bottom of the chute came into sight. While I didn’t relish landing in someone’s dirty sheets, I couldn’t help but feel relief. If it was between soiled yet soft linens or landing on hard linoleum and giving myself away, I’d take the nasty sheets every damn day. At the very least, falling into them would be less noticeable.
Will beat his wings, and the tips hit the side of the chute for the dozenth time. It made a loud sound, and I winced.
Hopefully, no one comes by to check that something is stuck in the shoot.Seconds after the thought materialized, the hatch whined open a few floors above us. My heart stopped as I glanced up and peered through Will’s feathers. A glint of metal caught the light coming in from the hallway, followed by an empty bottle of Jack. My eyes widened.
Another idiot guest had mistaken the laundry chute for a place to put their garbage. I watched in horror as gravity pulled a whole trash bin full of crap toward us.
Will hadn’t noticed, so I squirmed and pointed upward. He caught my motion, glanced up, and dove.
My heart leapt into my throat.Oh shit!
The stale air of the chute blew straight up my nose as the eagle shot downward like a bullet. We didn’t know what was in the garbage pail. Was there broken glass? Anything else that could hurt us? We were smaller than normal. It would take less to knock us out.
I hoped that no one would be in the laundry room when we entered. A tiny fox falling into a basket might go unnoticed in a room filled with running washers and dryers and bustling people. At least that had been our original hope. But an eagle soaring around the room with a fox in its clutches as trash fell into the laundry bin? No one could miss that mess.
We were screaming downward, the white bin growing closer and closer. The sound of the machines filled my ears. We were approaching the moment of truth.
I closed my eyes.
I felt Will change direction and suddenly, he released me. I landed in the bin with a sharp exhale and instinctively pulled a bunch of sheets over me to protect my head. The sounds of cans, bottles, and other junk hitting the sheets filled my ears. Once the noise died off, I took a chance and peeked out of the sheets.
Will was nowhere to be seen and thank goodness for that, because three washerwomen milled about the room.
Remaining in my fox aspect, I burrowed deeper into the sheets and hoped no one would swing by to pick up an armload of dirties before the others arrived.
