crossing toward the bathroom. “There’s food and clothes for you in the bags.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He glanced over his shoulder and pointed toward the bags on the bed. “Eat.”
She stuck out her tongue. “Yes, sire. At once, sire.”
“And behave yourself.”
Leaving the door to the bathroom open, Salvatore stepped into the shower, sighing in relief as the hot water poured over his body. He was less pleased by the cheap motel soap and shampoo, but at least it managed to scrub away the grime, and wrapping a towel around his waist, he ripped a strip off a washcloth to tie the amulet around his neck.
He shoved the wet hair from his face and returned to the main room, a small smile curving his lips as he discovered Harley had pulled on the flannel nightgown that fell past her knees.
No doubt she assumed the repulsive garment would stifle his rampant desire. Instead, Salvatore found himself pondering the various methods of stripping it off.
He could do it slow, tugging the ugly fabric upward to reveal the body beneath, inch by glorious inch. He could do it quick, ripping open the gown with a sharp jerk. He could do it using nothing more than his teeth.
Pacing the floor with short, jerky steps, Harley watched as he moved toward the bed, her expression oddly wary.
“Now what?” she demanded.
“Now I eat and we get some rest,” Salvatore said, casually tugging off the towel and reaching in one of the bags for a pair of black satin boxers.
With a choked sound, Harley turned abruptly to stare at the wall, her back rigid.
“Can’t you call someone to come and pick us up?” she gritted. “This isn’t the most secure location.”
Pulling on the boxers, Salvatore settled on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he took three of the roast beef sandwiches and wolfed them down.
Literally.
“I intend to be on the move before anyone could reach us. Is there a problem?”
“Do you want a list?” There was a pause, then squaring her shoulders, Harley turned to scowl at him. “Tell me why you don’t want to call your pack. The truth.”
Salvatore stiffened in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be able to read him with such ease.
It was…unnerving.
He wiped his hands and piled the empty wrappers on the nightstand.
“I have no proof, but I suspect that Briggs is capable of controlling the minds of both Weres and curs, if only for a short amount of time,” he confessed.
Her brows lifted. “Did he control your mind?”
“No, but before I battled him, I was attacked by Weres who had always been unquestionably loyal to me.” His hands clenched in ancient anger. “I was forced to kill more than one of them.”
“Maybe they just weren’t as loyal as you thought they were.”
Salvatore shrugged. He wished she was right. It was easier to accept he’d killed traitors rather than faithful companions who’d been under the compulsion of Briggs.
Unfortunately, he knew his servants too well.
They would carve out their own hearts before betraying him.
“I’m not going to take any chances.”
“But you are taking a chance,” she pointed out. “For all you know, my mind might be under the control of Briggs.”
Salvatore snorted. “You’re too bloody stubborn to be controlled by anyone. Besides, I’ve been with you for hours. I doubt Briggs’s power lasts more than a few minutes.”
She considered his words, absently nibbling on her thumbnail.
“I suppose it would explain Caine’s ridiculous belief he had some sort of vision,” she conceded.
“I’d say his outsized ego has as much to do with his visions as Briggs’s,” he muttered.
She ignored his sour opinion of the cur. “It seems risky to expose vampires to a magic-mad Were.”
“The vamps are impervious to mind control. Unfortunately, it’s too close to dawn for them to travel. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to meet up with them.” He patted the
“Are you going to be okay?”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He glanced over his shoulder and pointed toward the bags on the bed. “Eat.”
She stuck out her tongue. “Yes, sire. At once, sire.”
“And behave yourself.”
Leaving the door to the bathroom open, Salvatore stepped into the shower, sighing in relief as the hot water poured over his body. He was less pleased by the cheap motel soap and shampoo, but at least it managed to scrub away the grime, and wrapping a towel around his waist, he ripped a strip off a washcloth to tie the amulet around his neck.
He shoved the wet hair from his face and returned to the main room, a small smile curving his lips as he discovered Harley had pulled on the flannel nightgown that fell past her knees.
No doubt she assumed the repulsive garment would stifle his rampant desire. Instead, Salvatore found himself pondering the various methods of stripping it off.
He could do it slow, tugging the ugly fabric upward to reveal the body beneath, inch by glorious inch. He could do it quick, ripping open the gown with a sharp jerk. He could do it using nothing more than his teeth.
Pacing the floor with short, jerky steps, Harley watched as he moved toward the bed, her expression oddly wary.
“Now what?” she demanded.
“Now I eat and we get some rest,” Salvatore said, casually tugging off the towel and reaching in one of the bags for a pair of black satin boxers.
With a choked sound, Harley turned abruptly to stare at the wall, her back rigid.
“Can’t you call someone to come and pick us up?” she gritted. “This isn’t the most secure location.”
Pulling on the boxers, Salvatore settled on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he took three of the roast beef sandwiches and wolfed them down.
Literally.
“I intend to be on the move before anyone could reach us. Is there a problem?”
“Do you want a list?” There was a pause, then squaring her shoulders, Harley turned to scowl at him. “Tell me why you don’t want to call your pack. The truth.”
Salvatore stiffened in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be able to read him with such ease.
It was…unnerving.
He wiped his hands and piled the empty wrappers on the nightstand.
“I have no proof, but I suspect that Briggs is capable of controlling the minds of both Weres and curs, if only for a short amount of time,” he confessed.
Her brows lifted. “Did he control your mind?”
“No, but before I battled him, I was attacked by Weres who had always been unquestionably loyal to me.” His hands clenched in ancient anger. “I was forced to kill more than one of them.”
“Maybe they just weren’t as loyal as you thought they were.”
Salvatore shrugged. He wished she was right. It was easier to accept he’d killed traitors rather than faithful companions who’d been under the compulsion of Briggs.
Unfortunately, he knew his servants too well.
They would carve out their own hearts before betraying him.
“I’m not going to take any chances.”
“But you are taking a chance,” she pointed out. “For all you know, my mind might be under the control of Briggs.”
Salvatore snorted. “You’re too bloody stubborn to be controlled by anyone. Besides, I’ve been with you for hours. I doubt Briggs’s power lasts more than a few minutes.”
She considered his words, absently nibbling on her thumbnail.
“I suppose it would explain Caine’s ridiculous belief he had some sort of vision,” she conceded.
“I’d say his outsized ego has as much to do with his visions as Briggs’s,” he muttered.
She ignored his sour opinion of the cur. “It seems risky to expose vampires to a magic-mad Were.”
“The vamps are impervious to mind control. Unfortunately, it’s too close to dawn for them to travel. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to meet up with them.” He patted the
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