Luke's Dream (3 page)

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.

* * * *

I signaled and pulled over. Setting my feet
to the road, I idled and wondered if she was finally at her
destination. She’d switched buses four times within the last
twenty-four hours, and I’d followed.

A pale and shaky Bethony disembarked. She
made it five steps before she stopped and lifted her head to look
around. Her movements were measured. I hoped she’d stop to
rest.

She turned to a passenger who’d stepped off
the bus behind her.

“Is there a hotel near here?”

The sound of her voice pulled at my insides,
and my fingers tightened around the bike grips.

The man pointed down the street. As she
shuffled down the road, I pulled away from the curb and drove past
her to park in the hotel’s parking lot. She didn’t notice me as she
walked inside.

I waited several minutes, giving her time to
check in and settle into her room. After grabbing my bag from the
back of the bike, I checked in and followed her lingering scent
down the hallway. I paused at her door and listened to the sound of
water running inside.

Setting my hand on the door, I closed my eyes
and forced myself to relax. She wasn’t going anywhere. At least,
not at the moment. I went to my room, two doors down and let myself
in. Since I’d skipped sleep when I’d sat up with her and had spent
the past twenty-four hours following her across state lines, I was
ready to crash. But not before taking my own shower.

I’d just finished drying off when I heard the
first muffled cry. I quickly tugged on pants and flew out the door.
Of course her door was locked.

Since our rooms were right down the hall from
the front desk, the clerk would have a clear view of me if she
looked up from her book. Even if she wasn’t looking, I was worried
she’d hear me if I tried forcing the knob.

I jogged down the hall toward the front desk,
and the woman looked up at my approach.

“Hey. I locked myself out of my room. Room
thirty-seven. Can I have a new card?”

She smiled at me and started typing on her
computer.

“Can you verify your address?”

I rattled off the address that had been on
Bethony’s fake ID.

The clerk reached for a new card, swiped it,
and handed it over.

“Thank you.”

The woman went back to her book.

I jogged back to Bethony’s room. Her cries
were getting louder, almost to human hearing level. I swiped the
card and opened the door two inches before it caught on the
security latch. Pulling the door almost closed, I tried using the
card to push the latch out of the way. It wouldn’t budge.

Frustrated, I closed the door and went back
to my room. The window was the only other option without alerting
the front desk. I slid the glass panel aside. It only opened
several inches. Swearing, I closed the window.

The connecting door caught my eye. It
wouldn’t lead to Bethony’s room; it was on the wrong wall. However,
the room between us likely connected to hers.

I pulled on my shirt and socks and left my
room one more time. Luck was on my side because the woman wasn’t at
the front desk this time. I debated on just breaking into Bethony’s
room, but decided it would be easier to hide the damage of a broken
handle than a splintered door jam.

The hallway was quiet when I knocked on the
door between mine and Bethony’s. No one answered. I knocked louder,
needing to be sure. When there was still no response, I forced the
handle open, breaking the lock, and quickly closed the door behind
me. Then I did the same with the connecting door to Bethony’s
room.

Her natural scent teased my nose as I went to
her. She looked clean and smelled chemical free as she lay
twitching under the covers. I inhaled slowly, savoring her real
flavor—cinnamon and an earthy hint of Earl Grey tea—while I studied
her. No makeup polluted her tear trails tonight. Her dark hair was
a damp tangle around her head.

“Shh,” I said, reaching out to smooth the
strands back from her sweaty face. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

She turned her head into my hand. The gesture
made my yearning for a Mate stronger. Why did she have to be so
young? I leaned down and pressed my lips to her forehead, wishing
time would pass faster for us. As before, she quieted when I
touched her. I studied her as she relaxed and sank into a quieter
sleep. She still looked like an adolescent, but not as childish as
she had with the heavy makeup.

I straightened and glanced at the bathroom.
She’d washed several items of clothing and had hung them on the
shower rod to dry. The small scrap of bright teal drew my gaze, and
I swallowed hard before averting my eyes. A few crumpled bills lay
on the bathroom counter. Removing my hand from her hair, I went to
the money and counted it. There wasn’t much there.

Behind me, Bethony started making troubled
sounds. I set the money back where I’d found it and returned to
her. She was starting to cry again. I dried her tears, my touch
once again quieting her. Whether she knew it or not, she needed
me.

Hoping I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of
my life, I walked around the bed and eased myself onto the covers.
She turned toward me as if sensing my nearness, and I reached out
to pull her close and slip an arm under her head. She sighed in her
sleep and snuggled against me, her hair tickling my jaw. This was
what I’d been missing. I smoothed a hand over her head as an ache
grew in my chest. It was so clear; she was supposed to be mine.
Life was cruel to show her to me when she was so young. She would
need time to understand she was meant for me. Time to grow and
mature. I’d give her that time. I hoped the Elders would too.

I relaxed. With her in my arms, I let myself
sleep.

* * * *

Lack of sensation in my hand woke me several
hours later. Bethony was still passed out beside me. Easing my numb
limb out from under her, I got up. She continued to sleep
peacefully as I sat on the edge of the bed. We needed to talk. It
would have been better if I’d talked to her that first morning.
Now, I doubted she’d listen to me. I’d followed her for several
days and suddenly asking to talk to her would prove it. It would be
better if she spoke with Gabby. But how?

I dug my phone out of my pocket. It was a
cheap disposable phone, easy to sacrifice. I cleaned the call
history, not that there was much of it, and slipped the phone into
the pocket of her drying jeans. The tiny pocket held the phone
snuggly so it wouldn’t fall out. I went back to the bed and wrote
down the number I’d memorized, just like all my other contact
information.

Hopefully, when Bethony called the number,
Gabby would know what to say to convince her to come with me.

In addition to the phone, I added some cash.
She needed more sleep and food. A lot of both. And the money would
help her get them between here and the Compound.

Once I had everything tucked into her
pockets, I went back to her. She was already growing restless. I
lay beside her once more and let her sleep.

Close to dawn, her breathing changed,
signaling my need to leave. Quietly slipping from the bed, I
checked the room to make sure I’d left things as I’d found them.
Then, I let myself out through the adjoining door.

In the opposite room, I waited, listening to
her wake and get out of bed. She took her time, obviously relaxed
from a night sleeping in my arms. I set my hand on the wall,
wishing I was still in the room with her.

I was about to leave when I heard something
clatter. Everything was silent for a minute, then the quiet sounds
of her getting ready changed to frantic rustles. A moment later,
her door opened and I heard her hurried footsteps in the
hallway.

I went into her vacant room and found my cell
phone and Gabby’s number in the garbage. At least she’d taken the
money. Frustrated that I’d sent her running again, I grabbed my
phone and quickly went back to my own room to grab my jacket and
bag. She had a few minutes head start on me; and when I walked into
the lobby, she was already getting into a taxi.

Frustrated, I checked out while watching the
taxi pull away.

As soon as I cleared the doors, I inhaled
deeply to commit the scent then jogged to the bike. Hopefully she
wasn’t going too far. The engine roared as I gunned out of the
parking lot and took off in the direction the taxi had driven.

Several blocks later, I slowed. Bethony was
walking on the sidewalk in a busier area. Before I could reach her,
she entered a building. Pulling over, I eyed the sign. A homeless
shelter? She was carrying more than five hundred dollars now.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I considered
my next move. Obviously, I couldn’t just walk in there and try to
talk to her. There were too many people, and I didn’t want to draw
any attention. Yet, I couldn’t just leave her.