Secret Worlds (536 page)

Watching her bustle about, my mood darkened once more. I had to wonder if this was the last time I would see her. I knew even less about her than I did Holbrook, but just as I had with him, I felt a strange kind of kinship towards her that wasn’t just from the intoxicating pheromones she pumped out.

Finally giving me her full attention she asked, “So, what’s going on?” Seeing me shift from one foot to the other, her brows creased in concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” I confessed, wringing my hands in front of me.

“Are you hurt? Did something happen to Darius?” she asked, her voice quivering on Holbrook’s name. It was obvious there was still a lot of emotion there, and although I was rather attached to Holbrook myself, I felt a pang of sympathy for her.

“I’m fine, he’s fine,” I reassured her. “I need to ask you a huge favor though. Can I borrow your car?”

“My car?” she asked, blinking owlishly. “Why do you need my car?”

“I’ve gotta get out of town.”

“What’s going on? Why isn’t Darius with you?” she asked, growing suspicious. “Let me call him and find out—”

“No!” I blurted, panic surging through me. I was wasting time standing there arguing with her, and as every minute passed I could feel the shadow of Samson looming closer. The longer I stayed, the more everyone else was at risk. “No, you can’t call him.”

“Tell me what’s going on, right now,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she adopted an immovable stance. It was a pretty hot look on the beautiful succubus. I gave my head a quick shake to dispel the effects of her pull, refusing to let myself be swayed by the desire to touch her.

“I don’t have time to explain, and I wouldn’t even know where to begin if I did. I have to get away before anyone else gets hurt. I can’t have anyone else’s blood on my hands,” I said, hating how my words became muddled by my tears. “Please, Alyssa. I don’t know who else to ask.”

Hesitation shone clear as day in her eyes, but after another moment’s pause, her expression softened and she nodded. Reaching into her pocket she withdrew her keys, a small crystal bird of some kind twinkling on her keychain.

“It’s the red Optima parked out back,” she said, pressing the keys into my hand, her fingers lingering for a moment to squeeze mine. “I wish you’d let me call Darius, but I can tell it won’t do much good. Promise me you’ll be careful?”

“I will, I promise,” I replied, hoping that it wasn’t the last time I ever saw her.

In a moment of weakness I pulled her into a fierce hug, and pressed my lips to hers. I’d never been attracted to another woman before, and was pretty sure that I was experiencing a temporary loss of sanity, but the touch of her lips sent a flood of warmth through me, all the way down to my toes. Where Holbrook’s lips were firm and demanding, Alyssa’s were soft and unresisting. Kissing her was like kissing a warm, sugary cloud: full of gentleness and love. She stood stiff in my arms, probably as shocked as I should have been, but after a moment she relaxed, looping her arms around my waist. I have no idea how long we stood there, entwined in an embrace born of sadness and the need for a comforting touch.

In the end, Alyssa was the first to break the kiss, sweeping her lips over mine in a last tender brush. I wasn’t sure if it was the effects of her succubus powers, or simply her inherent compassion, but it took a great force of will to release her and step back.

“Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” she replied, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed.

I FOUND ALYSSA’S car where it sat parked in the lot behind the restaurant. I was startled when I turned the key and a loud, thumping beat blared out of the speakers. I’d never have pegged her for a fan of techno, but then again, I should have known better than anyone that folks are rarely what they seem. Turning down the stereo and flipping it over to the local classic rock station, I pulled out of the lot and started making my way through the side streets towards the highway.

Watching the clouds continue to roll in off the mountains, blackening the sky until it was almost as dark as nightfall, I cursed my luck.

I should’ve known my luck wouldn’t last long
, I thought as I watched the first few flakes begin to fall, fat and heavy, bringing traffic to a crawl
.
A jack-knifed semi on the highway succeeded in making traffic that much worse, and I pounded a fist on the steering wheel in frustration when we slowed to a dead stop. Irritation buzzed in my veins, making me fidget and grumble as traffic crept forward an inch at a time. It wasn’t that I was impatient to meet my inevitable end at Samson’s hands, but sitting there in the car, wasting my last minutes surrounded by exhaust fumes and blaring horns, I found myself wishing that he’d just hurry up and put an end to the twisted game we’d been playing.

It hadn’t been hard to convince myself that this was the only course of action to take. I didn’t want to be responsible for any more death and suffering, but as I started my slow ascent through the mountains I wished that I had someone there to hold my hand and tell me I was doing the right thing.

At least I’ve got you, Wolfie
, I thought, imagining that she sat in the passenger seat beside me
.
She’d be with me ’til the end, whatever it might be.

The miles slid by beneath the tires of Alyssa’s car, carrying me ever closer to home, and whatever awaited me there. Following the slowly winding snake of cars up the mountain I watched lights flicker to life amongst the trees in fleeting glimpses through the clouds and snow, and marveled at their twinkling beauty. My looming death it seemed, had made me sentimental, and I regretted not having spent more time admiring the simple beauty around me. Perhaps if I hadn’t wasted so many years entrenched in self-pity and bitterness, I wouldn’t have been driving towards my death alone.

Three hours after leaving Denver, I turned off I-70 towards Leadville. I’d gone several miles down the road when there was no mistaking the loud bang of the rear tire blowing out. The steering wheel gave a sudden jerk in my hands as the car slid sideways on the slick asphalt before I could wrestle it under control and bring the car to a shuddering stop on the shoulder. I sat in the car for a few minutes, my hands white knuckled on the wheel, adrenalin pumping in my veins.

Not for the first time in my life I wondered what it was I had done, or which deities I had pissed off, to earn such craptastic luck.

I must have been a chronic puppy kicker in a previous life,
I thought ruefully as I got out of the car to evaluate just how screwed I was.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growled as I stared down at the shredded tire, the stink of burnt rubber making me gag.

Swiping my hands over my eyes I blamed the moisture I found on the choking smell coming from the tire. I definitely was not crying. Nope, not me, the fearless werewolf. Wishing I’d had the forethought to grab a jacket before I fled the FBI building, I glanced up at the sign a few yards ahead, feeling my stomach sink even further as I read it.

Leadville 20 miles.

For fuck’s sake!

The wolf may give me extra strength and endurance, but even she couldn’t make up for a lifetime of laziness and too much junk food. Five miles would have been an easy distance to cover, even ten miles would be doable despite the snow and wind. A twenty mile trek however, just wasn’t going to happen unless I went wolf, and with my injuries I wasn’t sure that she could handle a journey of that distance over rugged terrain. Leaving me with two options: try to flag down one of the few passing cars, or suck it up and attempt to change the tire myself.

Wishing I’d grabbed some gloves along with my imaginary jacket, I blew on my hands to warm my already chilled fingers and popped the trunk open. Unlike the back of my Jeep, which generally looked like a dumpster from behind a fast food joint, Alyssa’s trunk was well stocked and organized.

What’s she expecting? The zombie apocalypse?
I wondered, eyeing the super deluxe first aid kit, space blanket, baggie of energy bars, and shrink wrapped pack of bottled water. I was lucky if my car actually had a tire iron, let alone enough supplies to last through a nuclear fallout. Pushing aside the first aid kit and water I hauled out the spare tire, leaning it against the rear bumper as I dug out the tire iron and jack.

“This is such shit,” I cursed aloud. Thoroughly irritated, I started loosening the lug nuts, grumbling all the while.

Most of the time I don’t see the point in having a cell phone; it’s not often that I venture more than five or ten miles from home, and I don’t have many friends beyond those I converse with online, so owning a cell phone has always seemed like a waste of money to me. Standing there on the side of the road, in the dark, growing sweaty despite the cold and snow, I cursed my frugalness.

Traffic was light at this time of night, most of the traffic consisting of SUVs with skis and snowboards strapped to their roofs. For every one that had passed without stopping I released a litany of curses, hoping they died in a fiery crash, but truthfully I couldn’t blame them. Had I been the one driving by in my cozy car, content with my cozy life, I don’t think I would’ve stopped to help a woman shouting curses at passing motorists. I didn’t notice the vehicle coming to a stop on the shoulder behind me at first, it wasn’t until the lights stopped moving rather than continuing to pass on by that I realized it wasn’t just someone driving by. I felt a thread of tension weave through me at the sound of a car door closing.

I turned cautiously, raising one arm to block some of the light while the other stayed at my side, gripping the tire iron. Squinting, I tried to make out my would-be savior through the glare and blowing snow. With the wind at my back, I couldn’t pick up any scents above the lingering traces of burnt rubber. It was entirely possible that it was simply a good samaritan doing their civic duty, but by that same notion, it was also completely within reason that it would be a raging psychopath with a penchant for wolf meat. The latter was far more in line with my current streak of luck, or rather, lack thereof.

“Please don’t be a psycho, please don’t be a psycho,” I chanted under my breath as the stranger walked towards me.

Anxiety clawed at my gut as the stranger approached, a bulky jacket making it difficult to determine size or sex. Tightening my grip on the tire iron at my side I let my shoulders go loose, preparing myself for a fight.

“Hey baby, how much?” Holbrook called out, his recognizable drawl instantly loosening the knot of worry in my stomach. Finally coming close enough for me to be able to make out his features through the glare of the SUV’s headlights, I found his face split by a devilish grin.

“You scared the crap out of me,” I said, poking him in the chest with the end of the tire iron, though the wide smile on my face probably detracted from my admonition a little. “I thought you were some weirdo who was going to try and kidnap me. Christ knows I’ve had enough of
that
business to last me a lifetime.”

“Why’d you think that?” he asked, arching his brows at the tire iron that I continued to wave at him.

“Who else is going to stop on a night like this to help a stranded motorist? You know, besides goody-two-shoes FBI agents?” I asked, scuffing the toe of my boot along the slushy asphalt as I ducked my head.

“I see,” he mused, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind my ear.

“Oh, shut up,” I said, relinquishing my makeshift weapon to him.

Seeing me shiver, my bare hands tucked under my armpits in a futile effort to keep them warm, he just shook his head in exasperation and said, “Go wait in the car. I’ll take care of this.”

I might be more than a little stubborn at times, but I’m no dummy, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to argue with the chance of getting warm. Reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck I thanked him with a slow kiss that left both of us a little warmer than before, and then retreated to the blessed warmth of the SUV. Opening the door, a wall of hot air blasted me in the face. A second later, Loki’s unmistakable meow cut through the air, the grating sound somehow expressing his pleasure at seeing me and no small degree of chastisement for leaving him behind.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” I said, reaching out to stroke the fur behind his ears. “Can you forgive me?”

If the rumbling purr that emanated from his chest and the way he leaned into my fingers wasn’t an expression of forgiveness, I don’t know what is.

From my vantage point in the SUV, curled up in the passenger seat with the heater on full blast and a very contented cat stretched across my lap, I watched Holbrook switch out the tires, enjoying the way his jeans clung to his thighs and butt as he squatted beside the car. Even with his swaddled hand, a task that no doubt would have taken me more than thirty minutes, he accomplished in ten. Stowing the jack and tire iron in the trunk he strode back to the SUV, his cheeks reddened from the cold.

He had to have been a Boy Scout growing up
.

“All done,” he announced, closing the door behind him.

“So…ah…I guess I’ll see you later,” I said, cradling Loki against my chest and reaching for the door handle.

“Sit your cute little ass down,” he said, pushing me back into my seat with one large hand. “I’m taking you home.”

Relief flowed through me. I hadn’t relished the thought of facing whatever awaited me at home alone, whether it was a psychotic werewolf or just an empty house, but I still had to ask “What about Alyssa’s car?”

“We’ll sort that out tomorrow.”

If I even have a tomorrow,
I thought, my spirits sinking to somewhere around my ankles. Trying to distract myself from the gruesome images that floated up through my mind, I focused on the matter at hand.

“I can’t leave her car out here. What if someone hits it, or steals it? She was doing me a favor,” I argued.

“Riley, just let it be. It’ll be fine,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Sorry, no can do, bucko.”

I’d already snatched Loki up with one arm and was reaching for the door handle when Holbrook sighed in resignation. “Fine. I’ll drive.”