Beyond the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #6)(26)

“What if the manager rents out this room?”

“Highly doubtful at this hour, even if there was anyone desperate enough to stop here.” He slid a challenging glance in her direction. “Do you want a shower or not?”

“And what are you going to be doing?”

He smiled. “Making myself useful.”

“Forget it.”

“Take your shower, cara,” he murmured, stealing a swift kiss before pressing her into the bathroom. “I’m in no condition to scrub your back. At least not with the attention to detail that I prefer.”

Her eyes narrowed, her expression defiant. “I’m locking the door.”

“I insist, and keep that gun where you can use it,” he murmured, pulling the door shut and waiting for her muttered curse and the lock to be slammed into place before turning to head out of the motel room and into the night.

A weary smile curved his lips as he moved silently through the shadows, heading toward the stores that had closed hours before.

He was on the run from a Were who should have died centuries ago, he had no idea what had happened to his servants, he had no money, no cell phone, and the silver digging into his shoulder felt like ragged shards of lava, but there was no mistaking the raw, primitive satisfaction that burned through his blood.

Finding Harley completed him.

It was that simple and yet, that insanely complex.

And it was nothing less than a miracle.

Halting at the back of a dress shop, Salvatore easily dealt with the cheap lock, using his powers to turn off the alarm system. Collecting a few plastic bags, he moved through the darkness to fill them with a change of clothing for Harley and himself, as well as a nightgown that Harley would no doubt insist upon wearing.

He hesitated a moment over the delicate lingerie, ruefully choosing a sports bra and matching undies rather than the silky thongs. Harley would choke him in his sleep with the thong if he brought it back to the motel.

Perhaps someday…

He paused long enough to empty out the cash register, making a mental note to reimburse the owner. Not that he particularly cared about a human’s business. But if Darcy discovered he’d stolen from the shop, she would pester him for weeks about his corrupted karma. And unfortunately, he might need the tenderhearted Were to convince Harley that he wasn’t some rabid monster who was plotting to kill her.

Leaving the dress shop, Salvatore made a stop at the small deli to scoop up several packaged sandwiches and bags of chips before making a final sweep of the neighborhood and returning to the motel room.

Careful to close the door and slide the bolt, Salvatore turned and…

“Dio,” he breathed, staring at Harley as she stood in the middle of the hotel room.

Her wet hair hung loosely around her shoulders, the amulet dangled on a thin strip of material she’d ripped from a washcloth and tied around her neck, she wore nothing more than a towel she’d wrapped around her still damp body, and the gun was held in one hand with a casual expertise.

She should have looked ridiculous.

Instead, Salvatore felt as if he’d just been kicked in the gut as he met the hazel eyes that flashed with a smoldering fury.

She was sexy, and dangerous as hell.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, her hand tightening on the gun. As if she was considering the pleasure of shooting him.

He reached down to grasp the bags and piled them onto the bed, clever enough to hide his smile of satisfaction at her annoyance.

“We needed supplies,” he smoothly explained.

“And what if you’d stumbled across one of Caine’s pack? Or that Briggs?”

He turned to meet her scowl. “Were you worried for me, Harley?”

She stiffened, not about to admit the truth.

“You’re in no condition to be out running around.”

“Ah, you do care.”

“You might have led them here.”

“I wasn’t followed.”

Prowling forward, Salvatore stripped off his tattered jacket and shirt, tossing them on the floor.

Harley instinctively stepped back, although she couldn’t hide the manner in which her gaze lingered on his bare chest.

“What are you doing?”

“I need you to dig out the silver in my shoulder.”

“With what?” She shook her head as Salvatore reached down to pull the dagger from the sheath at his ankle. “No. No way.”

Salvatore plucked the gun from her hand, tossing it on the bed before pressing the hilt of the dagger into her unwilling fingers.

“It has to be done, Harley. I can’t reach them.”

She clenched her jaw, trapped between her desire to condemn him to hell and the knowledge that his injuries wouldn’t heal until the silver was gone.

“Damn.” She pointed toward the chair by the small table. “Sit down.”

Taking his seat, Salvatore waited until Harley was standing rigidly behind him, reaching over his shoulder to grasp her hand and press it to his lips.

“Just the silver, cara.”

She predictably yanked her hand from his touch, but Salvatore didn’t miss the care she took not to jostle his shoulder.

“If I decide to kill you, it won’t be with a knife in the back,” she muttered. “Hold still.”

Bracing his hands against his knees, Salvatore closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Unlike vamps, he didn’t have the ability to go into a healing trance to avoid his injuries. Until he could shift, he had to grin and bear it.