Tess pulled her helmet off and shook her head. Her hair wasn’t long enough to really develop helmet hair, but it was getting there.
“So, what happened with our stalker?” I asked.
“It won’t be reporting our position again,” Beast growled.
“What was it?” Tess asked.
“A harpy. It was glamoured as a crow.”
“A harpy?” Tess asked.
“Big bird creatures with human-looking heads and mammillary glands,” I said.
“You mean breasts?” Tess asked.
“Yeah, butt ugly creatures with a fondness for human flesh. They can be evil bitches, but rarely manage to enter our world.”
“Then how did it get to tracking us?”
“Good question. Beast, did it talk before you killed it?” I asked.
“It cursed a little, but I surprised it, and I didn’t figure it would tell us anything we didn’t already know. The damn things aren’t even worth eating. I was hoping to get a meal out of it.”
I laughed. “I thought you ate last night.”
“I did, but your battle interrupted me. I didn’t get a chance to finish.”
“Always worrying about your stomach,” I said. I heard the roar of a diesel engine approaching. “Okay, glamour up and follow us. Keep an eye out for anything else that might be on our tail.”
He growled once and then appeared to become a red-tailed hawk. There was a blast of wind as he leapt into the clear sky.
Tess twisted in the saddle, rubbing unnecessarily against my crotch as she did, and asked. “I thought you would get back on him. What’s the matter, are you enjoying me sitting in your lap that much?”
“Don’t be silly,” I said, protesting my innocence. “You know he can’t change forms but once during the day.”
Tess puffed out her lower lip. “You could have just agreed with me. Spoil sport.”
When she turned back to the front, again rubbing me excessively, I rolled my eyes and tried to take my mind off my urges. It was bad enough when we trained each day, but having her behave this way was making me feel like a randy teenager.
Tess cranked the bike, waited for the semi to blast past us. Its slipstream buffeted us for a few seconds and then she accelerated after it.
A half hour later, we passed Des Moines and a small restaurant. I saw Tess studying the restaurant as we approached it and asked her if she was hungry again.
“I could eat, but how much farther are we going today?”
“It’s less than an hour to Raton, and there are several restaurants there. I intended to make camp in the mountains above Raton. There are some nice campsites that aren’t usually busy this time of year.”
She nodded and said, “Okay, I can wait that long. So are we camping roughly like last night?”
“Pretty much. You need to finish healing that foot and get some training in. If we stay at a motel, we’ll just have to find a spot to train.”
“Okay, Boss, it’s your call, but can I point out something?”
“Of course, Tess,” I said.
“I know you don’t have any problems sleeping under the stars and I don’t either for the occasional night. But I am not that fond of squatting in the bushes.”
Hell, I hadn’t really thought of that being an issue. She hadn’t mentioned it last night, and there had been plenty of motels within a half-hour ride of where we camped.
“Okay, then. We can find a motel in Raton.”
“It’s not just my comfort. You know that if we’re spending any real time camping that we’ll need supplies that we don’t have with us. You remember food?”
I chuckled. “I said okay already. You don’t have to convince me. We can afford motels, and I can stand to have to suffer through room service and hot running water if you can.”
“Who said anything about room service?” Tess asked. “I was talking bathrooms and meals.”
“Okay, bathrooms and meals coming up.”
The remainder of the ride into Raton was uneventful. We came out of winding hills onto more of the desolate plains we’d already passed through. In the distance, I could see the outskirts of Raton and the mountain that I-25 crossed going north into Colorado. We could have gotten on the Interstate and kept moving north, but I wasn’t sensing any kind of urgency from Verðandi, so I elected to stop here for a few days of training.
We crossed the Interstate overpass and motored into Raton proper. Several chain motels dotted the wide street called Clayton Road for obvious reasons. I’d been here several times over the last forty plus years and usually avoided staying in the same motel twice. If I’d been that circumspect in New Braunfels, Laura would still be alive. I shook the bitter memories from my head and pointed to the right at the next traffic light.
Second Street was nearly the only four-lane street in Raton. Back before the Interstate came through it must have been the main north-south route from Albuquerque to Denver. Nowadays at least half the buildings seemed empty. Second Street curved sharply and became Canyon Drive when it met up with the same railroad line we’d followed into New Mexico. I tapped Tess on the shoulder and pointed out a small motel ahead on the left. It was a locally owned motel with only a dozen or more rooms. This particular one looked as if it dated back to early fifties–pre-Interstate. Mom and Pop motels were less likely to track you as the chains had started doing. I preferred not to be in anyone’s database.
Tess steered past the small restaurant that shared the parking lot and stopped beside the office. I slid off the saddle as soon as she stopped. Beast lit on the roof of the motel and watched us.
Tess removed her helmet and set it on the left handlebar. After dropping the kickstand and killing the engine, she swung off the bike and stretched.
“Man, this spending all day in the saddle is killing me,” she said as she rubbed the seat of her leather pants.
“All day? We haven’t been
