I watch as the dragon shifter disappears into the hallway before making my way to the bathroom, nearly bumping into Shade along the way. “Sorry,” I say. “Figured I’d go get changed.”
“Bold of you to assume you can’t change in front of me,” the wolf shifter replies with a wicked grin, and I feel a surge of butterflies in my stomach as he leans forward, his lips brushing my ear. “I’ve been thinking about that night on the rooftop,” he murmurs, the feeling of his breath sending a shiver up my spine. “I’m always thinking about it, Boots.”
Sure that my blush is giving me away, I give him a playful shove, not wanting him to know how much he’s getting to me. Laughing, he reaches out to ruffle my chestnut hair before turning away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I’m left to watch him go, still trying to get my composure back, before taking shelter in the bathroom. Take it easy, I tell myself as I struggle out of my sleep shirt and shorts. You’ve got more important things to worry about than romance.
I finish getting dressed and have my hand on the doorknob when the sound of Shade’s jovial voice leaks through. “So what were you doing, spooning Boots?”
I hear Hunter let out a muffled growl of frustration. “For fuck’s sake, guys, we didn’t do anything.”
“Hey,” Shade protests, “more power to you if you did. Is it true that vamps are cold when they’re… you know…?” There’s a pause, and then the wolf shifter bursts out laughing. “The look on your face!”
“Not funny,” Hunter growls.
“All right, guys, take it easy,” comes Silas’ voice.
There’s the sound of the door opening, followed by Hazel: “I picked us up some breakfast. There’s a bakery on the corner.”
Only the idea of food is enough to get the guys to stop bickering, and they descend upon the breakfast like they’re starving. My stomach lets out a rumble, too, and I realise just how hungry I am; shifting is taxing on the body, and my little stint with Landon yesterday must have drained me more than I thought. I push out of the bathroom and walk up to the kitchen counter, where Hazel has laid out an array of pastries. “Damn,” I observe, grabbing a croissant. “You really went all-out.”
“I sure did,” she replies proudly. “If we’re going through hell, I’m not about to let us go through it with subpar breakfast foods.”
“You goddess,” Xander says through a mouthful of danish, grinning boyishly at the other siren shifter. Ruby rolls her eyes, but it looks like she’s struggling not to smile. The others continue to talk amongst themselves as I wolf down my food, hardly believing how many croissants I’m able to put away; if we weren’t on the lam, I would be worrying about my waistline, but I’ve got bigger problems than putting on a couple of kilograms.
I notice that Silas is back to leaning against the counter, staring down at his phone. I sidle up to him and put my hand on his arm, and he tenses up for a moment before seeming to realise it’s me. “Sorry,” he says.
“Don’t apologise,” I tell him, crossing my arms and peering over his shoulder. “What are you looking at?”
“A map of the city,” the dragon shifter replies. “We’re going to need to find a discreet route to the airport.” There’s a pause as he shifts from foot to foot, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve also been doing some research,” he adds. “About getting my powers back up to par.”
“They seemed pretty up to par earlier,” I remark.
He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew how much of a struggle it was. I’m starting to wonder if I’m ever going to get back to where I was.”
“Hey,” I say, tugging at his arm to make him look at me. “Don’t say that. It just takes time.” Spontaneously, I lean forward, touching my forehead to his as I meet his dark eyes. To his credit, he doesn’t look away, and the smoldering look he gives me worms its way into my stomach. “We’re going to be okay,” I murmur.
Silas closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch. “Let’s hope you’re right, Boots.”
Chapter 4
It’s becoming clear to me that Boston isn’t a city meant for walking. Between the winding cobblestone streets and the oppressive summer heat, I’m sweating by the time we step outside the motel, having packed up, checked out, and paid cash. Silas was right, though; the one saving grace is that we’re near the airport which should minimise the amount of time we spend wandering the roads of the city. Still, I’m on edge. Every person we pass is a potential threat, and I find myself holding my breath every time we round a corner, half expecting an Academy representative to spring out at me. The area on the waterfront is sketchy and rundown, not unlike the neighbourhood where I ended up after running away from my last foster home, although at least this time I have more people on my side.
We’re clustered together on the narrow sidewalk, Hazel, Ruby, and Xander in the front of the group while the guys and I walk drag. Silas and Shade are talking, their hands in their pockets -- it’s nice to see them getting along in spite of their bickering. Hunter trails behind them, looking pensive, while Landon and I bring up the rear, squinting against the bright sunlight. Slowly we make our way west, looking about as conspicuous as can be, considering where we are, but mercifully, we don’t run into any Academy agents.
After reaching the wharf, we cross a bridge leading to the downtown area, but my anxiety only increases; we’re heading back into the eye of the storm, and if we do run into any of Hawthorne’s people, it’s bound to be around here. Across the water, I can still make out the ruins of the convention centre. The fire has been put out, but search and rescue efforts are ongoing, and there’s a crush of people watching the commotion.
“You’d think the interest would have faded by now,” Landon remarks, as if reading my mind.
“I don’t like how many eyes are on this,” I reply in a low voice. “I know most of them are probably just innocent bystanders, but still…”
“There’s no real way of knowing,” the siren shifter finishes for me. “We just have to keep our heads down until we’re out of the country.”
“And then what?” I ask, unable to help myself. “We can’t just go underground for the rest of our lives.”
“No, we can’t,” Landon agrees as we turn right and head north toward the harbour. “I wish I knew what to do, Boots, but I’m not much of the planning type. You probably ought to talk to Silas about that.”
“Talk to me about what?” the dragon shifter asks over his shoulder.
“Damn,” Landon remarks. “Your hearing is something else, Aconite.”
Silas smiles, but there’s not much humour in it. “Got it from my mother, but that’s not the point. Since when am I in charge?”
“You just seem to be the most decisive out of all of us,” Landon replies. “And you have the most experience with… Well…” He stops mid-sentence, seemingly realising his mistake as Silas’ expression hardens.