It looks exactly like the kind of place where people get murdered in movies, and I wish I were exaggerating. There’s a long strip of peeling doors and a buzzing neon VACANCY sign with half the letters burned out. Behind the front desk, a guy watches something on his phone with the volume cranked way too high. And just like the girl at the gas station, he doesn’t care about the rest of the world.
I guess that’s just how it is in places where only broke travelers and shady people stop.
I’m tired down to my bones. My muscles feel like jelly, even though I barely moved in the car. And somehow, even so, my brain is still sprinting laps inside my skull.
We get a room with two double beds. Then we head back to the car to get Mark out.
He’s still tied up—tape still over his mouth, wrists bound, ankles bound, the whole ordeal. His eyes flick back and forth between us and the motel. Not panicked anymore, but angry. Really angry.
“God, Mark.” I drag a hand down my face. “You’re exhausting. Even when you’re not talking.”
He muffles an angry response.
I know he’s been through some torture, but he should be thankful to us. If not for our hospitality, and my growing hope that I’ll get to kill him someday, he’d be in jail by now.
We’ve got everything we need to get him on the police’s radar.
“You’re going to be polite and do as we say,” I tell him. “Or I swear, tomorrow your mom gets a call that her living room is being seized because her dear son is a criminal.”
His stare locks onto me and doesn’t let go. If looks could kill, I’d be dead twice.
I shrug and turn to Talon. He makes a tsk sound and leans into the car, bracing one arm on the roof.
“I really wouldn’t scream if I were you,” he mutters.
Then he peels the tape off Mark’s face. Slow. Mark winces as it tugs at his skin.
His first inhale is messy, wet with spit and fury.
“You’re all—“ he starts, his voice raw.
Talon claps a hand over his mouth.
“Shut up,” he murmurs. “Don’t give me a reason to hurt you more.”
Mark’s eyes flick to mine again.
“I’m going to remove my hand,” Talon says. “You’re going to behave. Nod if we understand each other.”
Mark stares at him for a long, spiteful second.
Then he nods.
Talon lets go.
Nathaniel opens the door on the other side.
“I’m going to untie you,” he says. “But don’t think about running. We’re faster than you.”
Mark scoffs under his breath. “You think I’m going to bolt barefoot in the middle of nowhere? Where would I even go?”
“A morgue would be ideal,” Talon says brightly.
Mark’s eyes flick to him, then back to me.
“You’re really something, you know that?” he says quietly to me. “These… freaks threatening me, tying me up… You’re pathetic, Skye.”
Talon moves before the last word fully lands. He hits Mark hard and fast, right in the ribs. Mark folds with a strangled grunt.
