The redhead drew in a sharp breath.
Oh yeah, she was definitely otherworldly, and very clearly more than a simple Misos.
Phineus turned to leave, and the redhead started out the door, but Titus gripped her by the upper arm, careful this time to make sure he closed his hand around her shirt and not bare skin. Heat pulsed through his palm again, but no emotions, no pain, nothing like what he was used to.
“What are you—?”
“You’re coming with me,” he said, dragging her after Phineus down the hall. “Something tells me you’ve got a stake in what we find out about Maelea. And you might just be of use to us.”
Maelea’s arm ached from holding it out. She’d finally given up and leaned forward to brace both hands on the dashboard and rest her head against them so she could get some rest. The fact that Gryphon had seen those hellhounds and pressed down on the accelerator was good, but it didn’t ease her anxiety any.
The truck jolted, and she startled from the light sleep she’d managed to slip into. Groggy, she glanced out at the dark forest around her, then across the bench seat to Gryphon, his jaw tight, his eyes intense, his face both familiar and too damn sexy at the same time.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Gryphon glanced at the dashboard, which didn’t have a clock. “I don’t know. Late. We’ve gone a little over a hundred miles.”
She wanted to ask in which direction but thought better of it. She didn’t really want to know what he had planned. She just wanted to get away.
“I’m tired,” she said, thinking of a way to make him stop. “I can’t sleep like this.”
“I’m not uncuffing you.”
Bastard.
She bit her tongue so as not to antagonize him. “I’m starving as well. And I need to pee. Can’t we stop somewhere? You have to be hungry and exhausted too.”
His jaw clenched again. He didn’t look at her. As his hands flexed around the wheel, she knew he was debating.
“You have enough money for a motel, don’t you? I’m dying for a shower. And at least a couple hours of sleep. I’ve been awake for nearly thirty-six. If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m going to turn into a zombie, and then I’ll seriously slow you down.”
“Fine,” he said as the truck slowed. They were coming into some sort of small town. Lights shone in from outside. “We’ll rest for a few hours, but don’t get any ideas. This doesn’t change anything. You’re not going anywhere but where I want you to go.”
That’s what you think.
Maelea bit her lip as they rolled through the town, which consisted of one stoplight, a bank, a grocery store, a fast-food joint, and a truck stop. On the far end, Gryphon parked the truck in front of an eight-unit, one-story motel set back from the other businesses, with a flashing vacancy light in the office window.
Definitely a far cry from the mansion she’d lived in on Lake Washington, but she didn’t need fancy. She just needed him distracted. “I’ll wait here while you check in.”
“Not even.” He unlocked her from the dashboard then snapped the free cuff on his own wrist. Anger burning in her gut, she bit her tongue so as not to antagonize him and slid across the seat to climb out the driver’s side door.
Cool air rushed over her face as she stepped from the truck. Her muscles ached from sitting so long. Before she could catch her breath, Gryphon hooked their joined wrists around her back, tugging her body tight to his side so he could lean down and whisper, “If you say or do anything that upsets me, you won’t be the only one I hurt.”
Her stomach tightened. He was talking about the clerk in the office. Maelea nodded once, ignoring the heat radiating from his body and the blood and gore still fresh on his clothes. How did he plan to get by the clerk looking like that? The man would undoubtedly notice Gryphon had been through a massacre.
Her pulse sped up as they walked across the dark parking lot, the only sound their boots clicking on the pavement. Maybe that was her way out. If she could get the clerk to notice the blood and gore on Gryphon’s clothing, he could alert someone. Call for help. She could escape in the chaos.
The door to the office was locked, but a sign over a call button next to the night window read Press After Hours. Gryphon pushed the button, moved close to the window. Through the glass, Maelea watched as a door at the back of the office opened, and a teenager, probably no more than fifteen, ambled out.
Her spirits dropped. The teen barely even glanced their way. Through the grate in the window he said, “You need a room?”
“One,” Gryphon answered.
The kid slid a form and pen across the counter through the opening in the window. “Fill that out. You got a car?”
Gryphon pointed behind him with the pen, then scribbled info on the form with his free hand. As he wrote, Maelea watched the kid, hoping, praying he’d notice what the hell was happening on the other side of the glass.
Almost as if he’d heard her prayer, the teen looked up. Curious eyes gave way to horror.
Yes, yes! Call the police. Call anyone!
“How much?” Gryphon asked as he set the pen down and slid it and the paper back through the narrow opening in the window.
The kid didn’t answer. His face went ashen.
Hope burst in Maelea’s chest.
“I…uh…” The kid reached for the paper, started to move back.
Gryphon’s free hand sprang through the gap in the window and gripped the teen’s arm at the wrist.
The teen tensed, tried to pull back. “Hey! Let me…”
His voice trailed off as he locked eyes with Gryphon, then slowly, the fight rushed out of his body, and he eased a step closer to the window.
No. No! Maelea’s muscles tensed. She tried to pull away but Gryphon held her too tight.
“That’s right,” Gryphon said in a gentle voice. “Nothing here out of the ordinary. Just a couple passing through, needing a room for the night, right?”
“Yeah,” the kid repeated in a monotone voice. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Maelea’s gaze shot to the teen’s wrist, where Gryphon’s finger was running a slow circle over the boy’s pulse point. Élencho. He was using a mind-numbing technique on the boy. What little hope she’d had for help faded with every muscle the boy relaxed.
“Now,” Gryphon said calmly. “How much for the room?”
“Thirty…eight dollars.”
“We also need some food. Little lady here can’t wait to get me alone, but she’s hungry. Think you can run to the fast-food joint down the road and get us something to eat?”
“S-sure.”
Slowly, Gryphon released the kid’s wrist, pulled money from his pocket, and slid it across the counter. The kid pocketed the cash, then reached for a key hanging from a hook to his right, moving as if in a trance. He slid the key across to Gryphon. “Number eight. Last door. Will take me about a half hour to get the food.”
“That’s fine,” Gryphon said, looking down at Maelea. “Gives us time to get…comfortable. Right, honey?”
Sickness rolled through Maelea’s stomach. This kid was her only hope, and Gryphon had easily turned his brain to butter. She didn’t answer, but her stomach turned when Gryphon leaned down and kissed her cheek.
I need you.
She hadn’t lived nearly three thousand years to have her life come down to this. If she was to prove her worth to the gods and earn her way to Olympus, she had to get away from him. She had to beat him at his own game and come out the winner in the end.
She didn’t fight him when he grasped the key and turned her toward the motel room. She was already thinking three steps ahead as their boots echoed across the sidewalk.