As we set about our morning routines, I was once again struck by how natural it was. Brushing our teeth, getting dressed… it was like we’d been together forever. In the past, when I woke beside a woman, I’d have eased from the bed, left a note on the pillow, and vanished before she woke. That playboy life had always been exciting and fun. When I looked back on it now, though, it reeked of childish desperation. It had been my attempt at finding someone Iwanted—a constant revolving door of women who didn’t quite scratch the itch like Cameron did.
This was a strange but welcome change of pace.
“What’s that?” Cameron asked as I pulled a small spray bottle from my bag.
“It’s a fifty-fifty mix of water and vodka,” I explained.
“A little early for drinking, isn’t it?”
“Smartass,” I chuckled. “It’s not for drinking. It’s to cover our tracks.”
I went around the room, spritzing the bed, the couch, and any other place we’d have touched for more than a few seconds.
“It destroys the enzymes in scent molecules. Basically erases our scent,” I said. “If anyone tracks us to the hotel, they’ll never be able to tell which room we were in.”
“Why don’t we spray that on ourselves, then?” Cameron asked.
“Wouldn’t work,” I said, putting the cap back on the bottle. “Our bodies are always giving off a scent. It might cover it for a minute or two, at max. The only way to really cover it for very long is a stronger smell.” I shrugged. “Heavy perfume or cologne would work, but then you’ve only given them a differentscent to track. Or,” I added with a frown, “another person’s scent. Like last night? You told me on the way back here last night that this Carly woman sprayed you with her granddaughter’s scent? Stuff like that would work, at least for ten or fifteen minutes anyway. Long enough to get away and break the scent trail. Sounds like that woman is pretty smart.”
“Interesting,” Cameron whispered. “This is a really weird world. Cool. Interesting. But really freaking weird.”
“You could say that again,” I laughed. “I’ve lived in the shifter world so long it’s become second nature to me. It’s interesting seeing it from your point of view.”
A low, gurgling rumble groaned from Cameron’s stomach. She put a hand to her belly. “I’m starving. Those candy bars and chips didn’t do much for my appetite last night.”
“Let’s put our stuff in the car and see if there’s anything to eat within walking distance of the hotel,” I suggested.
Outside, the sun had barely crested the horizon, sending grayish streaks of light across the sky. I scanned the surrounding area for danger, but not a single sight or scent stuck out. We were in the clear.
“All good,” I said.
“I never asked, did you find any evidence last night? Anything that can tie Rick and his father to this whole thing?”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my photo gallery. “If this garage is really owned by Rick’s father, then this should be pretty damning. I sent these photos to Ollie last night. He and JC have them now. I guess we’ll see how things go when we get back, but I think it was a successful mission.”
Cameron shook her head. “I still can’t believe this. An entire fortune built on selling shit that ruins people’s lives.”
“Yeah. We aren’t dealing with Boy Scouts.” Stashing our bags in the trunk, I glanced around and sniffed the air. “What is that?” I gasped at the delicious aroma.
Cameron sniffed as well. “Shit, that smells good.”
My stomach cramped with hunger, and I took her hand. “Come on. I gotta see what that is.”
We strolled down the block, following the enticing scent—a combination of meat, garlic, spices, and cheese. It led us right to a food truck in an abandoned parking lot three streets down from the hotel. Usually, I’d have thought the place too sketchy to eat at, but almost a dozen people waited in line. Clearly, this was a hidden gem the locals loved.
“Wanna give it a shot?” I asked.
“Hell, yes,” Cameron said, eyeing the truck with almost fervent desire. “I’m starving.”
The bright red sign on the side of the truck read “Miguel’s Breakfast Burritos.” The menu was short, but everything sounded amazing. Before we got to the front of the line, I decided on a birria burrito, and Cameron chose chorizo and beans.
Stepping forward, Cameron glanced up at the man in the window. “Hola, como estas?”
The guy’s eyes widened, and he smiled. “Muy bien. Y tú?”
“Hambrienta!” Cameron exclaimed and rubbed her stomach.
The man laughed and clapped his hands. “Well, we shall take care of the lady and her mister. What can I get for you?”
