Chapter 36

Finding a hotel that was better than the one she’d slept in the night before wasn’t difficult, but finding one that was decent was another story. Zane had asked privately why she cared so much about staying in a gross hotel when her own apartment looked like the set for a post-apocalyptic movie, to which Jo had replied that’s because it was smack dab in the middle of the apocalypse. “But if I’m gonna pay someone top dollar for a night in their borrowed bed, it better not leave me bitten by bedbugs,” to which he replied that was ridiculous; bedbugs’ teeth were not sharp to bite through her hard outer shell.
Eventually, he’d found a three star joint for more than she’d been willing to pay and less than the rest of the team had been willing to pitch in if she’d shut the hell up. For two rooms, they’d paid more than her monthly rent back in Denver, but it would have to work. Four beds wouldn’t hold all of the Hunters and Ryker. No one was willing to share a bed with the fragile human either, and he’d reluctantly decided he’d be just fine on Jo’s sofa.
Not all of the teams had made it back by the time they’d pulled in and decided to call it a night. Jo had been in contact with the others over the IAC, and they’d determined the best plan of action would be to go scout out the nearest X the next day with plans to move in tomorrow night, assuming Cass and Brandon’s team had made it back in by then. The others were already with them in one capacity or another, though not everyone who’d participated in the first raid had chosen the same hotel. Some of them thought it better to camp out in the woods near the mark and start listening and watching already. Jo let them, so long as they didn’t make themselves known. Since Cadon had volunteered to lead them, it gave her a good excuse to stay away from her brother. They’d managed to avoid each other during the raid, which was better than fighting.
Lying in bed, staring at a new, unfamiliar ceiling, though not as gross as the last one, she was unsure as to whether or not she should close her eyes. A discussion with Cass had led to her aunt assuring her that she’d get Zane and have him wake Jo if things went down at the mine, which was about fifteen miles from where she lay. That would have to be good enough if she was to get any rest at all.
Zane was currently downstairs in the bar with some of the other Guardians, all of the Hunters having taken to beds to try to get some rest except for Shayna, who was with them, chatting up some of the new guys that were about the same age as her. She was twenty-three, Jo thought, just two years younger than Jo, but she seemed a lot younger. Perhaps losing her father had messed with her maturity. Her mother, Meagan, was asleep in the other bed in Jo’s room. When Shayna came back, assuming she did, she’d be sleeping with her mom. How they’d worked out the arrangement for the rest of the hunters, Jo didn’t know, or care. Meagan had popped a few pills earlier, mumbling something about needing help since her husband was killed, and was currently snoring loud enough to make a logger blush. Jo wished she had either brought some earplugs or could borrow half of one of those pills.
She made the mistake of shifting her eyes to see that Ryker was also still awake. What had made him decide to sleep instead of go down to the bar was beyond her, but then, she wasn’t really sure how she’d convinced him to come with them in the first place. He made eye contact with her and then looked away. There was something beckoning about the expression in his eyes, as if he had something he wanted to say to her but didn’t want to look vulnerable enough to admit that other people were worthy of conversing with him.
The couch was only about ten feet away from her, so it was a distance a whisper could span easily enough. And it wasn’t as if Meagan was going to wake up even if the fire alarms went off. Jo readjusted, turning over on her side and looking at him until he had to meet her gaze again. “Can’t sleep?” she asked, immediately feeling dumb.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, not even trying to keep his voice down. “I’m sound asleep right now.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle at him. After he’d made his position clear in the bar, he hadn’t said another word about not wanting to come with them, despite the fact that she hadn’t kept her end of the bargain. Meagan made a weird snorting sound and said something in her sleep. The other Hunter was definitely dead to the world. Now was as good a time as any to pick Ryker’s brain, though now the ten feet between them seemed expansive. “You know anything about scandium?” she asked.
“Scandium?” he repeated, quiet for half a second before he continued. “Oh, yeah. Had some for breakfast. Not that bad if you add enough milk and sugar.”
Again, she snickered, loving his sarcasm more than this particular remark. “I take that as a no.”
“I mean… I know it’s a mineral or an element or something. I know there was a rush on it a few years back--before the world was upended. I don’t know its chemical compound or anything. Why? Is that what they’re mining?”
“Yeah.” He was smart. Maybe it wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out, but she hadn’t even heard of the material until earlier that day. “We don’t know why.”
“I don’t know either.” She could almost see him shrugging, though her eyes were back on the ceiling now. “I figured the mines were just a place to keep their food stuffs safe, not actual mines.”
Her eyes shifted, cutting through the darkness far better than his human eyes could, to land on his face. He could see her well enough to know she was looking at him again. “You knew about the reserve de sange?”
“Is that Latin?” he asked. She nodded that it was. “If that’s what they call the people they keep hostage and chomp on for a few weeks until they shrivel up and die, then… yeah. I knew about them.” His expression changed. The normal glower that was always there intensified, as if there was something about the practice that made him even more intensely angry at the bloodsuckers. Or was it something else? As his eyes shifted, the anger morphed into another sentiment entirely. Jo wasn’t an emotional empath like her dad, so she couldn’t sense other people’s emotions, but she thought that expression looked like… guilt.
“I’m surprised to hear you know so much.” It wasn’t a compliment, not really. She was digging for information. Why the sudden guilty look? “Most humans assume that, if they get bitten, they’ll either be turned or killed right away. They don’t know there’s a torturous third option that’s far, far worse.” She thought back to the pitiful state they’d found the occupants of that prison cell in, how those that were still alive looked as if they’d been longing for death for days or weeks. She wouldn’t wish that existence up on anyone--except for the red queen of course, and that wasn’t a possibility. Not unless reality changed again, something that seemed to be happening with far too much frequency these days.
“I know a lot about it.” Ryker rolled over onto his back, his eyes focused on the ceiling, one muscular arm tossed over his forehead. He was wearing less clothing now than he ever had in her presence--just a T-shirt and jeans. Normally, he was so buried in layers and that ridiculously furry, yet practically warm, fur coat that she forgot he was built. Not tall and chiseled like Zane, but shorter, more square, broader shoulders. The sort of arms that could crush a regular person. For a mere human, he was strong. Since he seemed to spend more time sitting in bars than working out, she wasn’t sure how that was possible. Perhaps it was a gift from the gods. But she didn’t mind looking at him. His present state of annoyance didn’t dissuade her from checking out his biceps in the dark.
Eventually, the question had to be asked. “How is that?” she wanted to know. “How do you know about reserve de sange?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” That was Ryker’s common answer to just about everything she asked, at least when she got to the more serious topics. It was frustrating. She’d been quicker to open up about herself with him than she had just about anyone else she’d ever met, and she still didn’t know if Ryker was his first name or his last name.
She could find out easily enough, if she wanted to. He seemed to remember that at the same time. “Don’t go telling your aunt to dig around in my head either,” he warned. “That shit’s not cool.”
“I won’t.” She hoped it was a promise, but she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep it. If there was a possibility he knew something that could help them, she’d have to have Cass check. His full name wasn’t on the list of things that would get them along their merry way of finding Holland. At least, she couldn’t think of any reason why it would be. “I just wish….” She stopped. The words sounded ridiculous in her head, so having them tumble out of her mouth wouldn’t make them sound any cooler.
“You wish what?” he demanded, turning back to look at her. He pushed up onto one elbow so that he was raised above the surface of the couch. “That I’d confide in you? That I’d tell you all my secret thoughts? That we could share stories of our pasts? Hold hands and make plans for the future where you and I become best friends?” His tone was harsh now, not teasing at all, and it irritated the hell out of Jo.
“No, not even a little bit,” she replied, rolling over onto her other side so she was facing Meagan. Friends were the last thing she needed. It was hard enough to keep the one she had. The last thing she needed was this frail human creature hanging around her long term. He’d just end up dead.
“Good,” Ryker grunted, and she thought she heard him resettling on the sofa. “Because I don’t even know the words to ‘Kumbaya,’ and I don’t need a new pal.”
Jo didn’t grace the angry comment with a response. Instead, she closed her eyes, squeezing them so hard she saw little bursts of color. She was the last person on earth who had a right to be mad at someone for being an ass, but at the moment, all she could think about was how she should have never brought him here, how she wanted to see him face off with the Vampires--then he’d be sorry!
That wasn’t true, though. As rude and uncouth as the bastard was, she didn’t want to see him die. If she’d left him at that bar, under the circumstances, he wouldn’t have lasted more than a few hours. And it would be her fault.
She just needed to get some sleep. In the morning, there would be clarity. There would be answers. At least, that’s what her mother used to say. Sleep on it. It’ll come to you. She had to pray that her mother was right. Because at the moment, keeping a disgruntled human man safe was the least of her worries.