It was one of his finer talents.
His shoulder cramped as the torn muscles and punctured skin knit back together, the burned flesh being restored, although it remained tender. Tired, hungry, and weakened by the mating bond, it would take some time for him to fully recover.
Allowing himself only a brief moment to savor the primitive pleasure of embracing his wolf, Salvatore grudgingly shifted back to human, indifferent to his lack of clothing as he shakily rose to his feet.
A Were was rarely modest.
He did pause to scoop the amulet off the carpet. He didn’t know enough about magic to know how close he had to keep the thing to hide his scent, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances.
“Cristo. I need a shower,” he muttered, crossing toward the bathroom. “There’s food and clothes for you in the bags.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He glanced over his shoulder and pointed toward the bags on the bed. “Eat.”
She stuck out her tongue. “Yes, sire. At once, sire.”
“And behave yourself.”
Leaving the door to the bathroom open, Salvatore stepped into the shower, sighing in relief as the hot water poured over his body. He was less pleased by the cheap motel soap and shampoo, but at least it managed to scrub away the grime, and wrapping a towel around his waist, he ripped a strip off a washcloth to tie the amulet around his neck.
He shoved the wet hair from his face and returned to the main room, a small smile curving his lips as he discovered Harley had pulled on the flannel nightgown that fell past her knees.
No doubt she assumed the repulsive garment would stifle his rampant desire. Instead, Salvatore found himself pondering the various methods of stripping it off.
He could do it slow, tugging the ugly fabric upward to reveal the body beneath, inch by glorious inch. He could do it quick, ripping open the gown with a sharp jerk. He could do it using nothing more than his teeth.
Pacing the floor with short, jerky steps, Harley watched as he moved toward the bed, her expression oddly wary.
“Now what?” she demanded.
“Now I eat and we get some rest,” Salvatore said, casually tugging off the towel and reaching in one of the bags for a pair of black satin boxers.
With a choked sound, Harley turned abruptly to stare at the wall, her back rigid.
“Can’t you call someone to come and pick us up?” she gritted. “This isn’t the most secure location.”
Pulling on the boxers, Salvatore settled on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he took three of the roast beef sandwiches and wolfed them down.
Literally.
“I intend to be on the move before anyone could reach us. Is there a problem?”
“Do you want a list?” There was a pause, then squaring her shoulders, Harley turned to scowl at him. “Tell me why you don’t want to call your pack. The truth.”
Salvatore stiffened in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be able to read him with such ease.
It was…unnerving.
He wiped his hands and piled the empty wrappers on the nightstand.
“I have no proof, but I suspect that Briggs is capable of controlling the minds of both Weres and curs, if only for a short amount of time,” he confessed.
Her brows lifted. “Did he control your mind?”
“No, but before I battled him, I was attacked by Weres who had always been unquestionably loyal to me.” His hands clenched in ancient anger. “I was forced to kill more than one of them.”
“Maybe they just weren’t as loyal as you thought they were.”