Chapter 3

It was almost four hours later that I rolled into a small town, the last stop on the bus’s route before it circled back. At the T intersection, where the main road met with a county road, a hometown diner seemed the focal point. A worn red and white sign suspended from the shingled roof totted Chris’s Cooking Café. Set back just enough to allow diagonal street side parking, the building invited a hungry traveler.

Pulling into a spot out front, I killed the motor. My hands tingled from the long ride. I shook them out as I looked around. There wasn’t much to see. Beyond the diner, there was a small motel further to the left and several houses. To the right, a bar, a church, and further down, a farm. On the road from which I’d come, a few scattered houses. There was no traffic or pedestrians.

The quiet of the place washed over me. While I considered myself more adapted than most of my kind—I’d worked jobs and lived in houses that required rent—submerging myself into city living over the last few weeks had left me itching for trees and my fur.

I inhaled deeply, appreciating the abundance of cold earthy scents. Yet, underneath that, the tang of her scent lingered. She’d definitely gotten off the bus here. Since I didn’t see a figure walking in any direction, my guess she was either in the diner or the motel.

Getting off the bike, I considered how best to approach her. She’d been standoffish the first time around. Seeing me here would look like I was stalking her. Which I was. With a frown, I started toward the diner, hoping for a miracle to avoid a public scene and jail time.

A scream faint enough that no human would have heard it unless they were closer had me turning my head toward the motel. Was it her?

I started scenting the air as I moved. Another scream cut through the air, ripe with pain and terror. I broke into a run. Her scent guided me to the correct door, and I didn’t hesitate to twist the knob and break the lock.

A small, dark room greeted me. Bethony lay on the bed, spasmodically twitching in her sleep. I quickly stepped in and closed the door behind me. Even without the outside light, I had no trouble seeing her. She hadn’t stopped twitching at the sound of the door closing.

“Bethony,” I said gently, not wanting to scare her again.

She didn’t seem to hear me. Her twitching only grew worse. Tears leaked from the corners of her closed eyes, leaving behind a thick trail of black from her heavy eye makeup.

I breathed in expansively. The room smelled of must and fear. She was dreaming. Nothing pleasant by the looks of it.

Her mouth opened, and I knew she was about to scream again. I was beside her in two steps.

“It’s just a dream, sweetheart,” I said, smoothing back her hair.

No scream came, but she stiffened in her sleep as if in incredible pain. The sight tore a hole in my resolve to keep my distance. Without considering the consequences, I lifted her into my arms and sat on the bed. Her mouth closed, and her expression eased. Slowly, the tension melted from her, and she relaxed in my hold.

“That’s right. You’re safe.”

I studied her tear streaked face as the crease in her brow gradually faded. The perfection of her cute, small nose made my heart skip uncomfortably. Mine…in about four years. What was four years when I’d already waited twenty-three. It was nothing, I told myself. I couldn’t quite make myself believe it though.

I pressed my lips to her forehead and held her tightly. She didn’t move, but her pulse and breathing eased, and I knew she’d settled into a more peaceful sleep.

Holding her, I considered what to do next. That she’d run from home and left a note would make it easier for me to get her to the Compound. But the way she’d run bothered me. With the exception of her room, her home had looked clean and well-cared for. The letter to her mom wasn’t something a resentful teen would leave, so I didn’t think her leaving was due to a poor home life. And I certainly didn’t believe it was because of me. What teen runs from home because some random stranger asked directions to the bathroom? Yet, the timing of her departure burrowed into my mind.

Pulling back, I gently wiped away the marks Bethony’s tears had made. The dark circles under her eyes told me she hadn’t been sleeping well for a long while. What had happened to her to cause it? Her kissing friend had asked Bethony what had messed her up. Had I not interrupted, I might have already had my answer to why she’d run. And without an answer, I didn’t know how to convince her that coming with me would help her.

Across the room, her bag beckoned. I carefully set her back on the bed, squelching the part of me that didn’t want to let her go, and went to the bag. The clothes inside were balled up and—I lifted a shirt to my nose—dirty. The assortment of clothing was random, and I frowned at all the thin shirts. Even this far south, weather was changing for winter. She had nothing warm enough. She’d obviously rushed packing.

Unwilling to let her suffer, I removed the zippered hoodie I wore underneath my jacket and tucked it into the bag before continuing my inspection.

A wad of cash and her ID hid between two shirts. I studied her picture on the card. Her hair wasn’t as dark and her face looked softer, less drawn. She didn’t look thin or fragile. A lighter coat of makeup outlined her eyes. Yet, I could see a hint of the dark circles already there.

I glanced at the information. It was only a few months old. My gaze locked onto the name. Dee F. Ete. Defeat? Why would she use that as a fake name? And, the age was just as ridiculous. No one would believe she was twenty-five.

Behind me, she moved restlessly. I put her things back just the way she had them and turned as she started to make distressed noises.

A frown pulled her features, and her lower lip trembled. The ache in my chest grew, and I went to sit beside her. Smoothing back her dark, coarse hair, I wondered why she had changed her appearance. It just made her seem more fragile to me. My need to protect and keep her safe wrapped around me.

I stayed with her throughout the night. Mostly, I sat beside her and gently stroked her hair. My presence seemed to comfort her. More confirmation that the pull was at work. It concerned me, but not enough to leave her to suffer her tormented dreams on her own.

Near dawn, her breathing pattern changed, and I knew she’d be waking soon. I eased myself off the bed and quietly left the room. Her first impression of me hadn’t gone well. I wanted our second meeting to go smoother and not end with her running. With a plan, I walked to the diner. The bus wasn’t due for hours, and Chris’ was the only place Bethony could go to eat. Hopefully, having breakfast ready would win her over enough to listen to me.

Taking a booth near a window with a view of the motel, I ordered for us, conversed idly with the sparse patrons—better to have allies just in case Bethony freaked out—and then waited. When Bethony left her room, she had her bag on her shoulder and headed toward motel office. Motioning for the waitress, I asked her for the extra plate she was keeping warm for me.

“Good luck with your meeting,” the older man at the counter said before he stood.

Nodding my thanks, I picked up my coffee and took another sip. Older humans were interesting. They asked questions of complete strangers and expected answers, much like Elders. Yet, unlike Elders, they were only curious. The man hadn’t analyzed my answers or motives. Only listened.

Just as the woman set the plate opposite me, I watched Bethony leave the office and briefly speak to the old-timer. She wasn’t wearing the hoodie I’d left her. Most likely she hadn’t discovered it yet.

The old-timer nodded, and I watched Bethony climb into the back of his truck.

Bugger.

“I’ll need the check,” I said, rising.

“Want me to box that up?”

“No, thank you. My meeting was just canceled.”

I paid and strode out the door. The truck had already disappeared down the road. Inhaling, I committed the scent to memory then climbed onto the motorcycle, which was right where I’d left it the night before. After starting it up, I slowly followed the truck.

When trees gave way to houses, I sped up, wanting to keep the truck in sight. The increasing traffic gave me good cover as I watched Bethony huddle against the cab of the truck. At least she’d found the hoodie and had the sense to put it on. She still looked cold, though.

The driver signaled and turned into a parking lot. I drove past and parked on a side street. Walking quickly, I watched Bethony hop out of the back and offer the man some money. He declined it, waved, and got back into the truck. She turned, walked to the clear-sided shelter, and studied a piece of paper tape to one of the walls.

Another bus stop. I waited until the bus pulled up and she boarded. Once it pulled away, I went to check the posted schedule. I hoped she would get to wherever she was going soon so I could talk to her and get her to the Compound. Each day just increased the risk she’d be discovered by one of my kind.