Chapter 129
Katelina's wardrobe looked like someone who was out of touch with fashion had grabbed it in a hurry, which was exactly the case, so the following evening she and Jorick stopped at the local department store. She picked out some new clothes and pointed Jorick towards a white button up shirt that would make him look less like a cult leader or criminal. Both inferences aggravated him, though she noticed he bought it.
With their suitcase packed, they headed towards Katelina's hometown. They drove for most of the night and, near dawn, checked into a shabby green motel. Katelina slumped inside. A strange sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu swept over her as she glanced around at the handful of worn furnishings. "This is lovely," she commented sarcastically. "Why can't we ever stay in a nice motel? Why is it always a flea pit?"
Jorick closed the door and set the locks. "Where would you prefer? The Ritz?"
"No, but there was a nicer one a few miles back."
He moved to the window and checked to see if he could block the coming daylight. "After our last motel spree, I'm a little cautious. Imagine if vampires had crashed through the lobby in one of your better establishments. Besides, places like this have very few staff."
"And very few visitors. They pay more attention to who checks in."
The corners of his mouth turned up in a grin. "Perhaps. Normally. I'm certain they won't even remember us." He changed the subject. "This one is very tight with the furniture. It may be a bathtub nap." He turned and stalked to the bathroom door.
In a flash, she understood the implication of his first statement. "You're using mind tricks on the motel people, aren't you? You know I hate that!"
"So much for a bathtub. There's only a shower. Of all the ridiculous, cheap-"
He continued to grumble while she swooped towards him. A well-placed jab in the back got his attention. "Answer me!"
"Fine." He turned to face her, one eyebrow arched. "Yes, perhaps I am. Why does it matter? Don't the ends justify the means? It's to your benefit too, unless you want the police called? We're wanted fugitives, remember?" An aggravated flush stole across her cheeks. He'd won, and the smirk on his face said he knew it.
As if from habit, Katelina rubbed the spot where her second mark was; the mark that had linked them. Only a week ago she'd have been able to feel his amusement prickling at her. Drinking the blood from Kateesha's heart had undone the Linking. She couldn't feel his emotions anymore. Bizarrely, she'd had the Linking forced on her to save her life, but now that it was gone, she kind of missed it.
"Really?"
"Hey! You're not supposed to read my mind now that you can control it."
"I never said I wouldn't, only that I'm not forced to listen to the constant flow of your mental chatter anymore." He turned serious. "We could remedy that. I could- do it again. You don't have to be on the verge of death for it to work."
"I just happened to be last time?" She didn't want to think about the circumstances that led to it.
He didn't answer and she turned the idea over in her mind. What if he did re-link them? "I do kind of miss it sometimes, but I really didn't like you reading my mind all the time. And you said it got on your nerves."
"It didn't get on my nerves. It just took a while to get used to. Perhaps you could practice quiet thinking?" He laughed and stroked her cheek absently. "Seriously, Katelina, the choice is yours. If you want it back, all right. If not, I won't be offended."
She leaned against his chest and sighed. "You know how lousy I am at commitment."
"I think you've improved."
"Have I?" It was a rhetorical question, so she let it go. "I'll have to think about it."
"You do that. In the meantime it will be dawn soon. I think it best if I retire before the sun comes up. Since there's no bathtub, it's going to be the floor. If you don't mind, could you wait until tomorrow to shower?"
"Oh, I suppose," she said with false martyrdom. "If you insist."
He caught her chin in his hands and gazed into her eyes. "I do," he murmured, but his words had little to do with what he was really saying. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She nodded, her attempted humor swept away by the intense something in his gaze. "All right. Have a good night." A wry smile twisted her lips. "I mean day."
"You too, little one." He kissed her deeply, then released her and headed to the bathroom.
Alone, she changed into her new pajamas; a pair of pink flowered pants and a white tank top emblazoned with butterflies and more flowers. Though it was too college girl cutesy for her taste, it had been the best of a bad lot. She hoped to scrape past her mother without having to stay the night, but she was prepared if she couldn't.
She flipped out the light and threw herself into bed. She stared longingly through the darkness to the bathroom door and wondered if there was room for both of them on the floor. Even if there was, she knew he'd insist she stay in the bed. That was so classic Jorick, "stay there and be comfortable, never mind if it means we're apart." Didn't he understand she was willing to be uncomfortable to be with him?
She supposed he did. He knew the sacrifices she made and he made his own too. The trip was a huge sacrifice on his part. Her stomach knotted as she thought about the impending visit. What if her mother didn't like him? Though, it was beyond Katelina's comprehension how she couldn't. He was tall, dark, and sexy, not to mention he had a very reassuring presence.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine tall, dark, sexy, reassuring Jorick standing in her mother's living room, surrounded by an explosion of kitsch. She pictured her mother's stern appraisal as she demanded, "Why did you run away? Why couldn't you stay here and date him? Where did you meet him? Why didn't you ever mention him? Have you seen Sarah?"
The last imaginary question made her insides lurch. She squeezed her eyes tight to force the tears back. She didn't know what she could have done differently to save her friend. As Jorick had once commented, Sarah wouldn't have believed a warning, even if it had been given. Who would? Besides, she'd never imagined that Claudius' goons would grab the wrong woman; taking Sarah instead of her. It was one of those horrific tragedies that no one saw coming and no one could prevent. Or at least that's what she told herself.
