the other people he fed on, and he wouldn’t hurt this one. She hated what was to come, but he had to eat to regain more of his strength. She couldn’t deny him that, no matter how much she’d prefer not to see what was about to happen.
“Would you like two rooms?” the woman asked.
Lucien smiled as he rested his hands on the counter, and Callie found herself holding her breath. Would he get her a different room so he could feed on this woman in private?
The idea of sharing a room with him was almost as petrifying as the Savages finding them, but she didn’t want to be alone.
She almost slapped herself upside the head as confusing feelings battered her. He hadn’t messed with her mind, she was sure of that; she wouldn’t remember any of this if he had, but he was messing with her head in other ways.
Maybe they were better off in separate rooms.
“Just one room,” Lucien said; he had no intention of parting from Callie.
“Oh,” the woman said.
He caught the note of disappointment in her voice as she turned to the computer behind the desk. Keys clicked as her fingers flew across them.
“That will be one hundred dollars for the night,” she said.
Lucien allowed his power to well up inside him as he studied her. “No, it won’t,” Lucien said. “Look at me.”
Her head rose, and her blue eyes met his.
“You’re not going to put us into your computer,” he said.
Her brow furrowed. “I’m not?”
“No. Do you have cameras here?”
She pointed to one on the wall in the far back corner of the office. It had a perfect view of the counter and him.
“Are there any others?” he asked.
“No.”
“Good. Is there anyone else working with you tonight?”
“No.”
This was going better than he’d hoped. “You’re going to delete whatever footage you have of us, and then shut the camera off before coming back to me.”
The woman retreated into the back room. The clock ticked away the seconds and minutes until the woman returned.
“Did you take care of the camera?” he inquired.
“Yes,” she said.
“Good. Now give me our key,” he instructed. “Then come out here to me.”
The woman turned away and removed something from beneath the counter. She set a card in front of him. “You have room fifteen.”
“That’s good,” Lucien said. “Now, come here.”
The woman hesitated before walking to the end of the counter. Callie’s heart lumbered to pump as the woman lifted a section of the counter and slipped out before setting it back into place. Her eyes glazed over as she walked to Lucien and stopped before him.
“It will be okay,” Lucien said. “Relax.”
The woman did so. Lucien grasped her nape and shifted, so his back faced Callie. He had to feed, and she’d seen him do it before, but now that he had more control over himself, he didn’t want her to see it again.
She would deny it, but the demon inside him scared her, and he didn’t blame her. He would do everything he could to keep her safe, but she’d be foolish not to fear him.
Callie’s eyes darted around the room as she tried to look anywhere but at Lucien’s broad back as he bent over the woman. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew the second his fangs pierced the woman’s flesh as she gasped. A small sucking sound followed before all noise stopped.
The woman’s hands gripped his forearms, and she clung to him while he fed. Her hands on him sent another bolt of jealousy through Callie, and she backed toward the door.
When the woman released a low moan of pleasure, Callie fled. She shoved open the door and practically stumbled outside as her breath came in rapid pants that she couldn’t control. Resting her hands on her knees, she bent over as she tried to stabilize her breathing.
What is wrong with me?
She had no answer to that as the turkey sandwich she ate earlier threatened to make a return. She kept her mouth clamped against the bile rising in her throat and refused to look back at the office.
Instead, she stared at the empty parking lot and the distant mountain peaks illuminated by the full moon. The stars shone brilliantly in the velvety black night, and a bat soared overhead as the crickets and tree frogs made their presence known.
She was used to the sights and sounds; she’d grown up in the mountains, and they were the music of her childhood. Usually, they were a balm to