Without warning, he leaned forward to brush a possessive kiss across her lips.
“Good.”
Harley shot upright, frowning at the jolt of pleasure that raced through her.
“I don’t need your approval.”
Chuckling at her unmistakable blush, Salvatore grasped her hand and tugged her toward the stairs.
“Let’s go, sunshine.”
With Salvatore’s luck running from bad to extremely shitty, it was nothing less than a shock when the stairs led to a narrow exit that was well hidden and cur-free.
Not that he lingered long enough to appreciate his unexpected stroke of fortune.
Keeping a steady pace, Salvatore ignored the fact that St. Louis was less than an hour away, along with a strong Were pack that he could call on to protect him. Instead, he headed directly north, toward the far more distant Chicago and the damned leeches.
Harley’s expression was puzzled as they ran past the fields and dark farmhouses, but for once she kept her opinion of his leadership abilities to herself. Or perhaps she simply concluded that Caine was more likely to start his search on the roads leading south.
In either case, Salvatore was relieved not to have to fight with the female. In his current state, he wasn’t at all certain he could win.
Devoting the majority of his attention to making sure that nothing leaped at them from the cornfields and thick patches of trees, Salvatore wearily tripped over a fallen log that was hidden by the thick weeds.
“Enough,” Harley snapped, an odd anger in her voice as he smoothly regained his balance and turned to meet her glittering gaze. “We have to find someplace to rest.”
He regarded her in a thoughtful silence. Was she concerned for him?
“There’s a town just beyond the hill.”
“A town?” Her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Caine could have spies anywhere, and we don’t exactly blend in.”
“Then we’ll be careful not to be seen.” Taking her hand, he pulled her through the field and up the gentle swell that overlooked the small town. “There.”
He could feel Harley’s tension increasing as they neared the outskirts of the sleeping town, reaching a near panicked level as they traveled through the handful of blocks that made up the business district. Salvatore kept a firm grip on her hand as he headed straight toward the L-shaped motel that promised cable TV and Internet access.
He was too close to the promise of a hot bath and clean sheets to risk having to spend the rest of the night chasing his high-strung companion.
Carefully testing the air, Salvatore rounded the back of the motel, halting at the door nearest the end of the building. There were only a few guests occupying the various rooms, and all of them were human.
“We can’t check into a motel like this,” Harley hissed, tugging her hand free to indicate his filthy, unkempt appearance. “They’ll call the police.”
Salvatore smiled, moving forward to turn the knob, easily breaking the lock and shoving open the door.
“I have my own check-in system.”
Not nearly as impressed by his ability to find them shelter as she should have been, Harley stepped through the door and flipped on the light. Following behind her, Salvatore grimaced.
Okay, maybe he couldn’t expect her to be excessively impressed.
Perhaps not even slightly.
The room was larger than those in newer hotels, with a bed on one side and a pair of chairs and small table set beneath the window on the other. But the cheap furnishings had long ago given up the battle against shabbiness, and the turquoise paint was peeling off the wall. And the carpet…
Salvatore shuddered.
He moved across the room to peer into the bathroom, prepared for the chipped shower and vanity in a nasty shade of salamander.
Moving to his side, Harley wrapped her arm around her waist, her expression tense.