Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(50)

After passing on my instructions, I practically sprinted back to the Hawthorne.

Circling the hotel, I checked for any and all possible escape routes. Once I saw the split roof of the hotel, I figured that if I booked into certain rooms the roof might offer me an exit—even if it wasn’t an easy one. Once I’d determined the perfect room, I headed inside to see what I could do to get as close as possible to it.

The check-in clerk pursed her lips as I asked for a room on the first floor.

“We only have a few rooms available,” she said after tapping her inch-long nails on the keyboard for a few minutes. She reeled off the rooms she had available, but they were all too high to be able to access the rooftop escape route I’d spotted.

I allowed my disappointment to bubble up to the surface and gave a sad sigh. “Oh.”

She glanced up at me. “Would you like to check in to one of those?”

I closed in on the desk. “Look, I know I should have booked ahead, but I didn’t think. I wanted to surprise my boyfriend by booking the same hotel room where we . . . well, where we shared our first time.” I dropped my voice to a whisper as I said the last part, leaning closer to her again. “See, I think, in fact, I’m pretty sure of it, but I think he’s going to propose tonight. It would have been nice to return to the same floor at least.”

Her expression softened, and I hoped I’d hit the mark.

“Some of these rooms haven’t been checked into yet.” She offered me a small smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

I waited as she tapped on her keyboard again. Fifteen minutes later, I had booked into the room beside the one I’d ideally wanted.

“Thank you, Cherie,” the clerk said, reading the name off the stolen credit card I’d given her for payment.

I left Clay’s name and description at the front desk together with another note containing nothing but my room number. At first, I worried that my trail was too obvious, that it might somehow lead others in the Rain to me. After waiting in the hotel room for three hours, I wondered whether it was too subtle. The museum didn’t appear big enough to take that long to get through, and it was only a five-minute walk from the hotel.

Don’t worry, he’ll come.

. . . unless he can’t.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to. He left you remember? Nothing has really changed since then; all the reasons he left are still valid.

Except that he certainly looks like he’s strong enough to protect you now.

A blush crept over my body as I thought about exactly how “strong enough” he looked. A daydream of being held tightly against his newly developed chest as the well-defined muscles of his arms held me securely overtook my mind for a moment, at least until the nerves over why he was taking so long reclaimed their rightful place.

I sat on the hotel bed, with my knee bouncing uncontrollably. The unaccustomed luxury of the room only fueled my discomfort at the whole situation as I waited to see if he would follow my trail.

For the umpteenth time, I wondered, Why here? Why now?

Was it really him?

Waiting impatiently on the hotel bed, I thought about the hint I’d given him. Maybe it was too cryptic. Surely Clay would understand it though?

Leaping to my feet, I paced the room, desperate to shake loose some of the energy that threatened to burst out of me. I’d already done everything I could think of to pass the time: I’d showered, packed everything back in my bag . . . twice, and flicked through every single channel on the TV.

My thoughts were splintered and erratic, swinging wildly from hope that he’d be knocking on the door at any moment to despair that he no longer cared for me. Maybe he believed in the Rain more adamantly than ever before. Maybe he had no doubts over his mission to kill me now.

It was also conceivable that in the last few years he could’ve fallen for countless other women. The painful realization that he could have a girlfriend or worse . . . a wife, stabbed at my heart with precision strikes, inflicting an agony I wasn’t prepared for.

After pacing the length of the room twice, I tried to force myself to stay still but failed miserably. My arms crossed and my fingers tapped against my elbow before I lifted my hand to my mouth and tapped my nails impatiently against my teeth.

My gaze flicked to the phone on the bedside table, as if it would burst into life and provide answers to all of my silent questions.

“Where are you, Clay?” I asked the room.

A tapping drew my attention to the door. It wasn’t really a knock. It had been too quiet for that. I peered through the peephole, but the image was distorted, leaving me nervous and unsure of whether or not to open the door.

“Evie,” whispered a voice that I recognized despite it being two years since I’d last heard it. “It’s me.”

As I stood behind the door and opened it just a fraction, I wondered again whether it had been a wise choice to let Clay find me. After all, his family was merciless in their pursuit of nonhumans. I’d experienced that first hand and was still haunted by nightmares of the car chase. Ultimately, regardless of his motivation, Clay had chosen to leave me for them. There were no guarantees that he had any allegiance to me anymore. He’d saved my life once, many moons ago, but I had no way of knowing whether he’d regretted it every day since. His family could have just as easily swayed him back to their staunch views of a black and white world.