Now Clay gave the same laugh .“I seem to remember the last time we spoke, I made you a promise.”
She did remember, unfortunately. “You’re kidding.” It came out as a growl.
“Right before you left, I said, ‘If you pull this off, the next time I see you, we’re going on our date.’”
“And I said you’d never see me again,” she grumbled.
“Right, but I’m partial to count this little favor towards that reunion,” he added, amused.
“After all I did for you, for your people, you’re still trying to play games?”
“We’re very thankful, but I’m a little upset because I never got to show you my thanks. The Clay Brooks way.”
“I believe you did show me the Clay Brooks way, once or twice,” she said dryly.
“Four times, actually,” he grinned.
“Clay, I’m serious. This has to happen, and it has to happen now. If it doesn’t…”
“What?” he asked, tone still light.
She let out a rush of air. “I’ll be in trouble.”
Clay paused, his voice serious. “What kind of trouble?”
“Nothing right now. But if Reykon Thraxos makes it to Louisiana, I will be.”
“You’re a friend to me, Lucie, and a friend to the pack. Come to us, and-”
“No, I can’t go anywhere. That’s the whole point!” she hissed. “I have to go back to Darian, because if I don’t, he’ll hunt me down no matter where I am. I’m a slave, remember? That’s the second time you’ve tried to taunt me with that ‘join my pack’ bullshit.”
“I’m serious,” he said deeply.
“Yeah, and I’m a slave,” she threw back.
“My people don’t believe in slavery.”
“Well that’s good for you, but I come from a different world.”
“The world of undead pricks,” he scoffed.
“Yeah, and they really don’t like being ghosted,” she said, running a hand through her short hair and sighing. “Listen, I have to return to Darian. I need Reykon handled, and I need the girl that’s with him alive and hidden until I can come.”
“Consider it done,” he said. “And after, we go on our date so I can thank you personally.”
She closed her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t budge. Clay was nearly as stubborn as she was, but loyal to a fault – and then some more after that. “Sure,” she pushed out.
“Alright. We’ll leave as soon as we’re all sobered up.”
She groaned internally. Of course they were drinking. “Okay. Listen, the strongblood, Reykon… He’s-”
“Another prick?” Clay joked.
“Yes, but he’s good. Almost as good as me. Be careful – it won’t be easy to take him down.”
“You have a preference about his state of breathing when we find them?” Clay asked.
“I’d like a word with him, but it’s not life-threatening. If you can kill him without endangering the pack’s status with the Houses, do it, otherwise he’ll find you. The girl stays alive, no matter what.”
“We’ll handle it,” he assured her. “And then I’ll finally get my date.”
She ended the call and looked at the GPS on her phone. If she drove all night, she’d make it to House Xander in fourteen hours. She put her helmet back on and slipped onto her sleek motorcycle, revving the engine loudly and tearing back onto the road.
Chapter 3: Exposure
Robin
She’d barely gotten a wink of sleep, between the near-constant adrenaline and the thick cuff on her arm.
Reykon had drifted off soon, leaving her to contemplate all the ways she could kill him. Conclusion: there were none. He’d moved the nightstand on her side two feet away, and there was nothing within reach she could have used to get the upper edge. Forget about attempting hand-to-hand combat.
At about two in the morning, she’d gotten ambitious. She thought that if she could just reach the nightstand, maybe she’d find a pen and be able to stab him in the neck or something. She’d moved about an inch, barely getting her hand out of the comforter, when his rhythmic breathing had halted, and his muscles had stiffened. She lay frozen, eyes closed, feeling him watching her. She’d purposefully slowed her own breath and listened with hawk like precision for him to fall back asleep but being still for so long with her eyes closed had actually brought sleep knocking at her door first.
It was 6:02 a.m. when she woke up. Reykon was already out of bed, gone, and the cuff that had connected them was nowhere to be found. She brought her wrist up, rubbing it and glancing around the room.
The bathroom light was off. She pushed her mottled hair away from her face and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.
Where is he? she thought, a spark of adrenaline running through her again.
His backpack was nowhere to be found. Her duffel was still sitting on the chair, zipped up. She ventured closer to the door, something catching her eye.
It was a yellow post it note, with boxy chicken scrawl handwriting in a thick red sharpie.
Back in 5. DON’T go anywhere!
She stared at it with a sour expression, her fingertip under the curling edge.
Just as she examined it, the lock turned, and the door swung open before Robin could dodge it.
“Jesus,” she said in surprise, stopping the door with her hand.
Reykon glanced behind the door and kicked it shut with his boot. “Morning.”
He walked past her, into the room. Her eyes lingered on the door for just a moment before she walked back. He had two cups of coffee, each with a travel lid. He handed one to her. She took it without a word and took a long swig.
Reykon glanced at his watch. “We’re leaving at 6:30.”
She nodded.
His gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she shot him an irritated look. “What?”
“You look like shit,” he chuckled.
“I didn’t
