Or so I’d like to hope. Because if Bram wasn’t waiting, if he was already hunting us, then we were out of time.
And the thought of what he might do if he caught us... I couldn’t afford to dwell on it.
Not when Asher’s life, his second life, depended on me keeping us ahead of the storm. I returned my attention to my present situation.
The miles stretched on, and the horizon began to lighten. Panic prickled at the edges of my mind.
The rising sun was a threat I couldn’t ignore. If I didn’t find shelter soon, we’d both be goners.
An hour before sunrise, I reached the outskirts of a sleepy town.
It wasn’t much. Just a cluster of buildings and an old inn with a flickering neon sign. But it would do. Parking the jeep in the lot, I climbed out.
I stripped Asher of his jacket, then took off my own and draped it over his shoulders to conceal the blood. After that, I hoisted him into my arms once more.
He was still as lifeless as before, his pale face illuminated by the faint glow of the inn’s sign.
The man at the counter barely looked up when I entered. He glanced at Asher, then back at me, his expression a mix of curiosity and disinterest.
“My friend had a little too much to drink,” I said, forcing a casual tone.
“Tourists,” he muttered in disgust, then slid a keycard across the counter. “Room’s upstairs. Second door on the left.”
That was it. No questions, no hassle.
He went back to scrolling through his phone, and I carried Asher up the narrow staircase to our room.
Inside, I laid him gently on the bed, adjusting his limbs so he looked more comfortable.
Then I turned to the windows, pulling the heavy curtains closed and ensuring no sliver of sunlight could seep through.
Satisfied, I stepped back and surveyed the room. It was cramped and smelled faintly of mildew, but it was safe.
That was all that mattered.
Asher didn’t stir. His chest rose and fell with the shallow rhythm of someone caught in a liminal state, neither fully alive nor truly dead.
I sat beside him, brushing a hand through his hair, trying to ignore the ache that settled deep in my chest.
Would he ever forgive me for what I’d done? Did it even matter? All I knew was that I couldn’t bear to lose him.
The jeep needed to go. Leaving it in the lot was asking for trouble.
I slipped out of the room, careful not to wake the man at the front desk, and returned to the vehicle.
Driving it to the edge of town, I parked it in a secluded spot near an abandoned barn.
I wiped down the steering wheel and door handles, erasing any trace of our presence, then walked back to the inn under the cover of darkness.
The streets were empty, the town still asleep. I moved quickly, my footsteps echoing in the quiet.
By the time I reached the inn, the first rays of sunlight were beginning to creep over the horizon.
I slipped inside and locked the door behind me, double-checking the curtains before collapsing onto the bed beside Asher.
He was still motionless, his face serene in the dim light.
I lay down beside him, careful not to disturb his stillness, and draped an arm over his waist. For now, we were safe. But the questions lingered, heavy and unrelenting.
