Wolf Tracks - Bianca D'Arc Page 0,22

That done, she cast her eyes around the room again.

Helen judged she had enough magical energy left to give the room a quick zap, using her affinity for blood and anything that came from the body, to vaporize any residual evidence of their presence. There wouldn’t be a single strand of DNA left to identify them once she was through. She went to the door of the hotel room where Jim was waiting for her, an odd expression on his face as he watched her.

“You’re doing some kind of magic, aren’t you?” he asked, a note of suspicion in his tone.

“Just a little zap,” she told him. “My healing ability gives me an affinity for anything that comes from a living organism. I can use my power to zap it—even on a microscopic level—so that nothing identifiable remains. No DNA. No trace that could identify either of us.”

“Seriously?” He looked genuinely surprised…and impressed, if she was any judge. She nodded in answer. “Wow. Okay.” He looked around. “I guess if you can do that as we leave, then we’re good to go. Does it drain you?” he added, concerned, which made her feel oddly touched.

“Very little,” she assured him. “As long as I have at least some reserve energy, I can spare a bit for this. It doesn’t take much.”

“That’s…handy,” he said. She had the impression he would’ve said more, if they’d had time, but he was already peering out the peephole in the hotel room door.

“Wait,” she told him, reaching into her giant bag again. She pulled out baseball caps and handed him one. “Hotel hallways all have cameras these days. It’s not much, but at least if we keep our heads down, they shouldn’t get a clear shot of our faces.”

“If you pull a trombone out of that bag next, I wouldn’t be surprised,” he observed with dry humor. She laughed and shook her head.

“Sorry. No musical instruments, though I was tempted to pack the kitchen sink, but my mother needed it at home.” He chuckled in reply and resumed looking out the peephole.

“It looks clear,” he said a moment later. “Stand back behind me. The range of view is limited on these things.”

She moved back and remained alert as he opened the door. He stepped out and looked around casually, as if turning to escort her out of the room. She had to hand it to him. His motions didn’t look the least bit furtive and wouldn’t raise any eyebrows if anyone happened to be watching the hallway at that moment—or looking at the recording sometime later.

Keeping their heads down, they walked out the exit door at the end of the hallway. Their vehicles weren’t far. It looked like nothing had been disturbed, and the small, nearly-invisible string Helen had tied as a telltale around her door handles was still intact. She was reasonably certain that nobody had messed with her car in the night.

“We’ll take both vehicles,” Jim announced. “We shouldn’t leave either of them here in the public lot, but we can leave both safely at the airport hangar. It’s owned by an ally.”

“Okay. I’ll have to follow you because I don’t know where we’re going,” she said, already heading for her door.

“Just stay right behind me,” Jim cautioned. “I’m going to take some back roads. I was stationed at Norfolk for a couple of years and used to spend some of my leave here on the beach, so I know this area pretty well.”

“Glad one of us does,” she muttered as she opened her car door. She heard his chuckle as he did the same with his pickup.

“You have my cell number if you need to talk to me,” he reminded her just before they got into their cars.

“I do,” she replied, meeting his gaze over the roof of her car. He seemed so serious all of a sudden.

“All right then, follow me.” He got into his truck and started the engine as she did the same. She got the sense that he wanted to say more, but he opted for making tracks instead, which was probably a good idea.

She followed him out of the parking lot onto the strip, where traffic was picking up as the morning matured into midday. Even in the off-season, the businesses here were being patronized by the locals and the few folks who came to visit even when it wasn’t prime beach weather. Helen stuck right behind his pickup through the traffic and onto the road that would