Definitely Slade’s type.
Except for the werewolf thing.
If he had the sense God gave a goose, he’d drop Noah off, then haul ass. No one ever accused Slade of having good sense. Maybe he dreamed everything. Maybe a regular guy lay sprawled on the seat, mouth open, arm slung over his face. He’d find out soon enough.
He followed GPS to the address from his email, passing his home sweet home tattoo shop, at least for the next few days. Finally, he turned into a motel unload zone.
Noah let out a particularly impressive snore, then jerked himself awake, blinking unfocused eyes. “Where are we?”
“At a motel. I’ll go get the key.” The locks clicked when Slade walked away.
Paranoia paid off when people really were out to get you.
At the front desk, he changed the king bed reservation to two doubles. Noah helped him lug bags inside. Dark underscored Noah’s eyes.
Slade placed a hand on his shoulder. “Lay down before you fall down. How’s your side?” He moved to lift Noah’s T-shirt.
“No!” Noah yelped, tugging his shirt back down.
O-kay… “I need to see. Can’t have you dying of infection or anything.”
“I won’t.”
Slade growled, “Let me see.”
Noah’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The look in his eyes… fear? Why? He slowly raised his T-shirt, revealing smooth, unblemished skin.
Damn. Slade tried not to show his surprise. “Wow. You do heal fast. Must be because you’re young. Now, I’m going out to get us something to eat.”
Noah’s eyes went wide. “What?”
Crossing both arms over his chest, Slade employed his best intimidating look. “Get in the bed, close your eyes, get some sleep.”
Noah lifted the covers on the bed nearest the bathroom, kicked off his shoes, and climbed underneath, stilled dressed. Obedient. Nice.
“I’ll leave this here.” Slade placed his gun on the table by the bed. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. Anything in particular you will or won’t eat?”
“I need… I mean, I like meat.”
Slade grinned. “A man after my own heart.” He busied himself putting things away until Noah’s breathing evened out, then walked across the street to a diner he’d noticed when they’d parked. Waiting for two hamburger plates allowed time to go outside and make a call.
Judith answered on the third ring, genuine pleasure in her voice. “Hello, Slade. I’m glad you called. How are you?”
Thank God she answered! The only person on the whole damned planet who’d understand—or believe—the next part. “I’m fine. Aunt Judith, remember those special people we talked about, oh, I don’t know, about ten years back?” He couldn’t bring himself to say werewolf. Speaking the name made things more real.
After several nerve-wracking moments, Judith answered, “The ones who used to live around here but are gone now?”
Whew! She remembered. “Yeah. Them.”
Her voice turned suspicious. “Why do you ask?”
Slade paused to organize his thoughts and try to convince himself he’d not lost his mind. Yes, he’d fallen down the rabbit hole. “How do you know if you meet one? I mean, if they look like everyone else?”
“Hmmm… Let’s see if I remember. They heal fast, are extremely hungry after the full moon, and some lived in enclaves away from regular folks, so their ways seemed a bit backward.”
“Can they heal gunshot wounds? I mean, like, overnight?”
Confusion came through in Judith’s voice. “I’m not sure I’ve ever known one to live after being shot. These are awfully specific questions. What are you getting at?”
