to be firemen and police all over that place in minutes.”
“No. Not in the house. I have a safe buried in the backyard, under the shed.”
“We can come back for that later.”
She just nodded, then turned around in the seat to face the front and the road ahead of them. Sirens could be heard a few blocks from them. Ivy saw flashing red lights coming from her right about two blocks away.
She remained quiet as they sped away from the scene. She chewed on her finger as the anger built inside. The house was a write-off. She’d spent three months cultivating that safe house. Signing a lease, under a false name of course, moving in, making friendly with the neighbors. Putting up a false wall for others to see. She kept it up so that nothing would seem out of the ordinary. That no red flags went up for the people living next to her. The last thing she needed was nosy people asking about her business.
Now it was all gone. Her cover was blown.
“How did you know?” she asked him without taking her eyes off the road.
“I can sense things. My sixth sense is more advanced than yours.”
“Maybe you knew ahead of time.” This time she did look at him.
He shook his head. “Jesus, woman. Get your head out of your butt. I am not the bad guy here. I saved your ass.”
She sighed, knowing she was just grasping at straws and lashing out at him because she wanted to destroy something. And he was the closest something, even if he did make the butterflies in her belly stir and the muscles in her thighs clench annoyingly. “I thought I covered my tracks pretty well. I didn’t think anyone could find that safe house.”
“Sallos isn’t just anyone. He’s a very powerful demon.”
“I know that,” she bit out, angry that he would assume she hadn’t done her homework on the demon she’d been tracking for months. “But I’m good at what I do. I’ve been a hunter for almost my whole life. No demon has ever tracked me to my safe house before. No demon has ever gotten the best of me.”
“Well, there are first times for everything,” Ronan muttered. “You said you never work with a partner, and here I am.”
“Yeah, and I regret it every second that ticks by.”
This made Ronan chuckle. He rolled down his window. “I think our next step is to find a place to hole up, get cleaned up and figure out how to take this bastard down.”
She nodded. Too angry, upset and tired to do anything else. Besides, he was right and it wasn’t worth starting an argument over.
About forty minutes later, Ronan parked the truck in front of room 106 at the Lazy Day Motel just outside of San Francisco on the I-880. The place looked old and run-down and the sunny yellow paint didn’t do anything to hide that fact. It didn’t bother Ivy. She’d stayed in worse places. It was the nature of the business—the life of a hunter constantly on the move.
Ronan had booked them in, gave a false name, paid with cash and unlocked the door for her. Carrying her duffel bag, Ivy shuffled into the room, then tossed her bag onto the big bed. Ronan came in after her, shut the door and bolted it.
He handed her a bottle of water. “I grabbed these from the vending machine in the lobby.”
She took it, uncapped it and took a swallow. “Thanks.” She set the bottle down on the worn and scarred table and looked around the room, trying to avoid looking at the bed too long. She had no intention of using it for anything other than sleeping and Ronan wasn’t going to be joining her.
“Why do they insist on decorating these places in puke yellows and greens?”
“Must think it’s soothing.”
“It just makes me want to blow my brains out with my shotgun.”
Ronan laughed. “They should put that in one of their brochures. ‘Come to the Lazy Day Motel, the perfect place to put up your feet and blow your brains out.’”
A smile tugged at her lips, but she hid it by walking into the adjoining bathroom. It was one of the smallest bathrooms she’d ever been in. There was a small sink, a cracked mirror above it, a small toilet and a narrow box masquerading as a shower. But at least there was running water. She hoped it was hot, but at this point any temperature would do.
She peered out of the bathroom. Ronan was busy sitting on the bed, counting the rounds in his 9mm clip. “I’m going to shower.” He just nodded to her and continued to count his bullets.
She shut the door. Or attempted to. The hinges weren’t straight, so the door didn’t close properly. and because she couldn’t close it properly, she couldn’t lock it. She hoped the cambion valued his life and wouldn’t dare come into the bathroom while she was in the shower.
Ivy quickly shed her clothes and unstrapped all her knife harnesses. The one on her back, the two along her sides and the two around her ankles. She felt ten pounds lighter. She then stepped into the plastic box and yanked the curtain down the rod, but noticed there were two huge holes in the sheet. Sighing heavily, she twisted the water valve and hoped for the best.
Thankfully, wonderful scalding-hot water sprayed from the shower nozzle. She tilted her face up to it and let it cascade over her, washing away the night’s dirt, gore and disappointment. She didn’t have any soap, so she did her best at scrubbing her body and hair with her hands.
As she ran her hands down the length of her hair, she heard a rap at the busted door. Her first instinct was to cover herself, but she was too damn tired and she couldn’t be bothered, so when the door opened she just stood there defiantly. A cool breeze brushed over her backside. She glanced over her shoulder and through one of the holes. Ronan stood in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes glued to the rips in the shower curtain.
“Is there something you want?” she asked, although that may have not been the best question considering the situation. Or considering the dark look in his eyes.
But it was enough to raise his gaze a little and for him to speak. “I’m running across the street to the burger joint. I just wanted to know if you were hungry.”
“Whatever. Just get out of this bathroom.”
He backed out of the room and swung the door shut, but it popped open again.
Ivy ignored it and finished her shower. She twisted the taps closed and grabbed the semi-clean towel hanging on the rack. she sniffed it. It at least smelled like bleach and nothing else offensive.
Stepping out of the plastic box, she patted herself dry then redressed in her old clothing. She kept the harnesses off for now. At least her skin was fairly clean, though she’d have to live with the funky stench coming from her shirt. Revenant was difficult to get out of cotton.
Feeling a little bit more human, she came out of the bathroom and went to her bag. She unzipped it and grabbed her cell phone. She had some calls to make to find out what happened. How did Sallos find her house? Or maybe it wasn’t even Sallos, but she didn’t believe in coincidences, so he had to be the demon who had rigged her house to blow with demon fire.
She punched in the number for an old hunting
