Page 21 of Taken for Granite
Juniper
She needed to get Chloe back, and to do that she needed a clear head. As much as she wanted to drive all night and rush right in, she physically couldn’t. The adrenaline wore off, and she felt herself crashing. Tired, she’d fall asleep behind the wheel.
What help would she be to Chloe if she drove the car off the road or hit a tree? None. Exactly.
Rest, plan, then take action.
She’d have to sleep, even an hour or two, and she knew she couldn’t do that at home. If the police came to ask her about Mickey, she didn’t want to answer questions while concealing a gargoyle. She just didn’t think she could pull it off. If the police didn’t show, then she had to worry about Mickey’s crew. Word had to have gotten around that Juniper fucked up a job. No one could believe that she’d dothatto Mickey and three of his henchmen, but they’d still make her suffer.
She found a budget motel just north of the city, right about when her hands stopped shaking from stress and her eyes felt too heavy to stay open.
The door beeped and Juniper pushed it open, exhausted to the bone. How was this even the same day? Tas lurked behind, his wings brushing against the doorframe as he entered.
She stared at the lone bed. “They told me there were two beds.”
“There are not?”
“Just one.” Not the worst thing to happen today, not by a long shot, but the bed mix-up weighed on her the most. She needed to sleep so badly, but Tas was injured. He needed the bed more than her. She’d have to sleep on the floor.
“It is fine.”
“No, it’s not. It’s bullshit. This entire day is bullshit.” She dropped her bag on the lone bed and fished out the charger. It wasn’t even late. She should stay up to watch the ten o’clock news to see if anyone found Mickey, but her eyes couldn’t stay open.
“Such colorful language,” he said, drily.
Great, now the gargoyle was judging her vocabulary.
“I have a potty mouth. It’s a character flaw.” Shower, then bed, she decided. That was all the energy she had.
“This location does not seem secure. The walls are very thin.”
“It’s a cheap motel.” Not the cheapest. That honor belonged to the Sunrise Inn directly across the four-lane highway. This motel was a corporate chain, decent enough, and ranked between “free continental breakfast” and “you’ll get athlete's foot if you use the shower.”
“I’m going to clean up,” she announced, heading into the bathroom. Using the tiny toiletries the motel supplied, she scrubbed the bitter bile taste from her mouth and gargled. The green mouthwash burned off her taste buds, which was fine by her.
She showered quickly and spot-cleaned her jeans as much as possible before dressing and leaving the steamy bathroom. The post-adrenaline crash was hitting her hard. Her eyes did not want to stay open.
Tas perched on the edge of a chair, blocking the door with his not-insignificant frame. Their earlier meal did him good, putting some color on him. His skin was no longer a matte gray but a lustrous dark gray, a color she found attractive.
With his tail draped over his lap, it was easy to ignore the ever-present hard-on.
Did that thing ever quit?
Not her problem and Tas made no overtures about sharing the problem, either. Fine by her. She didn’t have time for shenanigans. Honestly, if he wanted to force himself on her, he had plenty of opportunities. Sure, sleeping in the same room was a risk but she could not afford two rooms. She trusted him to behave honorably while she slept.
“So who are those people?” She sat on the bed and rooted through her bag for lip balm and moisturizer. Being in food service required her to wash her hands all day long. As a result, her skin always felt dry.
Tas did not insult her intelligence by asking which people. “They are the Rose Syndicate. They are an ancient organization determined to hunt my kind.”
Not the Illuminati. Good to know.
“That Rhodo-person sounded British.”
“Because she is.”
“Are you British?” He had an accent, not exactly British but something distinctly foreign.
“No, I am not from England.” His wings shifted behind him, as if offended by such an accusation.
