Circle of Death (Damask Circle 2)
“Know anywhere decent we can stay?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s this ‘we’ business?”
“Like it or not, I’m all that currently stands between you and those manarei.” Which was something of a lie—manarei rarely traveled in packs. They were far from sociable creatures, and he actually doubted that whoever was behind this could control more than two. But that only meant something far worse might be on her trail.
“What about the police?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Were you not under police protection when the first manarei attacked?”
“Yeah, but what makes you think you’re going to fare any better?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Just why you’re here is another point I’d like to discuss.”
She was persistent; he had to give her that. “Later, perhaps, when we’re out of this rain and you’ve had that leg tended to.”
She regarded him silently. He could see from her thoughts that distrust was a habit, and he wondered what had happened in her life that now made her suspect the motives of everyone around her.
“Don’t suppose you can suggest a good motel around here somewhere?”
She looked away. “No, I don’t think I can.”
He wasn’t entirely sure whether she was talking about trusting him or knowing of a motel. “Then let’s travel along this road and see what we find, okay?”
She didn’t answer, but the lightning was beginning to flicker across her fingers again. “Kirby,” he said gently, “I’m not going to hurt you. I have no intention of doing anything more than tending to your wound and guarding you from future attacks.”
“I only have your word on that.”
If her tone of voice was anything to go by, his word wasn’t worth a dime.
“Then believe this. Whatever or whoever sent those manarei after you is going to be pretty pissed at their deaths. And they will come after you again.”
She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I know.” She glanced at him, eyes rich with suspicion. “And that’s why I can’t trust you. This whole thing may just be a ruse to gain my trust.”
Killing two manarei was a hell of a dangerous way to gain her trust. Doyle shook his head in disbelief. “Look, you’ve got a pretty potent weapon at your disposal. I’ve seen it in action, and I know it can kill. You think I want to risk that?”
She bit her lip. Droplets of water ran down her face, shimmering silver in the warm wash of the streetlights. They looked like tears. Maybe they were.
“You make one wrong move, and I will use it,” she said after a moment.
“Fair enough.” He spotted an illuminated sign ahead and slowed the car. “This motel okay?”
She shrugged. “Do you really care anyway?”
“I guess not.” He stopped at the motel’s office and opened the car door. Then he hesitated and glanced at her. “Wait for me. Don’t go anywhere.”
She shrugged. It could have meant anything. He frowned. “Promise?”
She snorted. “Bit old for that sort of foolishness, aren’t you?”
He raised an eyebrow and stared at her. After a moment, she looked away, muttering, “Yeah, I promise.”
He nodded, then headed inside. The motel’s manager gave him a room, some advice on where to get the windshield replaced, a bottle of antiseptic and several bandages, both of which he cheerfully added to the bill.
By the time Doyle got back to the car, she was gone.
KIRBY LEANED AGAINST A LAMPPOST AND BATTLED TO catch her breath. The night around her spun drunkenly, and she wrapped an arm around the pole. She’d pushed too hard tonight, and now she was beginning to pay for it. But the night wasn’t over yet. She had to get out of this rain. Had to find somewhere safe.