Changing Beauty (The Deadly Beauties Live On 2)

The feel of his hand vanishes, and a pang of unbidden disappointment prickles throughout me.

“Why?” I ask, trying and failing to move.

“Why let you live? It’s not because I’m a good guy, Princess. It’s because you have a part to play. If I don’t live long enough to stop them, you’ll have to takeover. And I’ll be damned if I let them win after all they’ve done to me.”

I start to question that, when suddenly my breath is leaving in a rush. I’m falling too fast, and I wince before my body crashes to the firm, still, unmoving earth below me. Clawing at the dirt, still feeling the effects of the dizziness, I force myself to stand up and look around.

We’re back in the woods—the same spot we were when I was trying to save Roslyn… Fuck! I never even asked him what he wanted with Roslyn. She was a slave too, since she’s apparently the fucking werewolf/witch hybrid. Why is he so desperate to kill her instead of helping her?

As I dematerialize, ready to start trying to rush back before everyone has a mini stroke, I also wonder about where in the hell her slave marks are.

Chapter 16

ROSLYN

My poor, pitiful head.

Immediately my mind snaps to attention, recalling all the crazy, and I bolt upright in my bed, headache forgotten. But… holy shit. Where the hell am I?

Looking around, I take in the peeling paint on the dingy walls, the dirty carpet stained with who knows what, and what the hell does that writing say? Did someone really write about a girl giving good head? I thought you had to be an adult to rent a motel room. And this is definitely a motel room.

Slowly, all the crazy pieces start fitting together. I must have passed out at the party last night when that Amy chick pissed me off. I knew I was getting mad; I felt the anger coming on. I must have passed out then dreamt up the elaborate events up until I saw Thad get hit by… whatever the hell that was.

Oh shit. I seriously need a shrink. This shit is much bigger than a simple blood pressure problem. I just lived a crazy dream that seemed to go on all day, and now I’m naked in a motel room.

Creeping to the window, I stay on my tiptoes, not willing to touch the disgusting floor more than necessary. After barely pulling back the curtain, I find myself squinting into the blinding sun of the morning, but finally finding a sign.

Edgebrook Motel.

And Jenny’s car is parked just below, meaning I actually did steal her car in my sleep just like my dream. After passing out, I’m usually dreaming about chasing daisies and end up naked in a field full of them. This is definitely a first.

Shit. I seriously need therapy. It’s possible that I need a padded room.

My eyes dart around the room again, searching uselessly for a dress that’s not here. No such luck. And I doubt I paid for this room, considering I don’t see them handing keys over to a naked girl without calling the cops.

How am I going to get out of here without giving the motel an even bigger show than they’ve probably already seen?

Oh no! How many people saw me streak up here? And it is up, considering this is the second floor. Which means stairs. And I don’t see any stairs within view, so that means…

Yep. Someone definitely saw me naked last night.

Great.

Deciding my options are fairly limited, I pull the sheet off the bed, deciding to fashion something I can wear out of here. No one else is getting a look at all my lady parts if I can help it.

It takes a lot of creative tying and tucking, but I finally get it wrapped around me. After all, Greek goddesses are portrayed to have worn something similar, so it can’t be too bad.

One look in the mirror completely obliterates that last thought as my reflection actually mocks me.

How did Greek goddesses make this look hot? I look like a train wreck preparing to take a walk of shame.

I really hope the keys are in the car, otherwise… Well, I’ll be walking. No way in hell am I hitchhiking, and I can’t call Jenny to come get me, since I sort of stole her car. And Thad… hell no. He’d see how completely crazy I am if he saw me right now.

What am I supposed to say? I don’t even know what I might have said to him after I passed out. I’ve been known to say creepy things before when I blacked out.

Please don’t let me have been creepy.

Poking my head through the crack I make in the door, I look around, hoping that no one sees me make my great escape. I doubt housekeeping ever actually cleans this room, so I’m not worried about them.