Lady Renegades (Rebel Belle #3)(28)

Ryan’s magical balm had worked with my parents, but then we’d used magic on them before.

Affecting the most mature expression I could manage, I leaned nonchalantly on the counter. “We need a room?”

The girl—her name tag read “Shelley” in white letters—didn’t even look up from her book. “Fifty dollars for a double,” she said in a bored voice, and when I pulled my wallet out of my bag, she fished out a form, sliding it over to me.

I signed the piece of paper that promised I wasn’t going to trash the place, and as I did, I could feel the weight of Shelley’s gaze on me. I lifted my head, meeting her eyes, but as soon as I did, she ducked her gaze back down to her book, one finger twirling her hair.

It couldn’t have been clearer that Shelley was totally bored, and I told myself I was just being paranoid. If another Paladin chick was going to come after me, she wouldn’t be here waiting. We’d picked this place on impulse, so how could anyone know where we’d be?

They could if they could see the future, moron, a not-very-nice part of my brain whispered.

I swallowed hard before reminding myself about positive thinking again. Even if David was conjuring up Paladins, he had called Annie off, right? Shelley handed me a key card—I was honestly surprised a place this trapped in 1993 had key cards—and pointed to her right. “One thirty-two is on the end,” she said, “but not, like, the end.”

“Awesome, thanks!” I said, probably way too brightly.

Blythe and Bee had hung back during this little exchange, and while Bee was texting, Blythe was watching Shelley with the same suspicion I’d felt.

I didn’t like it.

Not that Blythe was suspicious, but that we might have something in common.

“We’re on the end,” I told them. “‘But not, like, the end.’”

“The hell does that mean?” Blythe asked, shifting her bag to her other arm.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

The three of us made our way down the cracked sidewalk outside the building. Off to my left, the sun was a blazing orange ball, just about to set. We’d been driving for what felt like forever, and I was very, very glad that this day was ending.

I was also very glad a shower was in my future.

Room 132 was indeed at the end but not, like, the end, and I saw exactly what Shelley had meant. The rooms at the end end were blocked off with yellow tape.

Fabulous.

I slid the key into the door, and swung it open.

“Oh, good,” I said as we stood in the doorway. “I’d been afraid the room would be really depressing.”

At my side, Bee gave a little snort of laughter. Or maybe that was her trying to cover a sob. I felt a little sobby myself looking at that room.

Two double beds took up most of the room; both were covered in bedspreads the same bright aqua as the bricks outside. I’d never thought of aqua as being a particularly offensive color before, but looking at those bedspreads, I knew that next school year I was totally banning anything even approaching that shade from any school dance decorations. I’d never be able to look at it again without wanting to slit my own throat.

Moving into the room, I looked for a place to set my bag where it wouldn’t possibly pick up some kind of insect. I settled for the battered desk, and Bee did the same.

Blythe apparently had no such issues with the room, though, because she cheerfully tossed her bag on one of the beds and flopped into a seated position, pulling her legs up under her.

I wasn’t sure if she was doing yoga or just recharging her evil.

Bee blinked twice and then said, “I’m . . . gonna go call Ryan.”

Retrieving her cell phone from her pocket, she stepped outside, leaving me with Blythe. I waited until I heard Bee’s footsteps recede, then gingerly made my way over to the other bed. I needed to call my parents and Aunt Jewel, but I didn’t want to do that with Blythe in the room, and for some reason, I didn’t want to leave her by herself.

I know that sounds stupid, but there was no telling what Blythe might get up to her on her own. So for now, I would just stay here and . . . watch her.

You know, in a non-creepy way.

She sat still on the middle of the bed, her legs folded, hands resting on her knees. She was taking deep breaths through her nose, and I didn’t want to disturb her but I also wanted to know what the heck she was doing.

“So are you resting, or . . .”

“Why don’t you go grab a shower?” Blythe suggested, not answering my question.

“Omigod, I don’t smell, do I?” I picked at the collar of my T-shirt, giving a discreet sniff inside. I’d been using all the deodorant, so I was pretty sure I was Powder Fresh, but a day in a car during a southern summer can defeat the best of us.

From her spot on the bed, Blythe smiled. “No, I just want you to leave me alone so I can try to sense the Oracle.”

I felt a glimmer of relief. “Can you feel him now?”

There was a little wrinkle between her brows, but Blythe still didn’t open her eyes. “No. Or I can, but it’s . . . faint.” I watched her take another deep breath, then another, and the frown deepened. “It’s like another heartbeat inside my chest,” she said, “but a really soft, fluttery one. I can only feel it when I sit still.”

“I feel that, too,” I said, picking at the strap of my sandal. “Not all the time, but sometimes. Like, I get this feeling that he’s almost in the next room or something, but . . .” Trailing off, I rolled my eyes at myself. This was not the time to have some kind of slumber party moment with Crazy Blythe.