Colors by You

Chapter 3

Getting ready the next morning was a blur. I'd spent half the night pouring over Kim's notes, the news report clippings. She'd even lent me her senior yearbook, pointing out the victims among the graduating class of '94. I'd looked across the names, the faces. Nothing in Clara's or Mitchell's dimpled cheeks and smiling eyes suggested an appetite for cruelty, but looks could be deceiving.

Shoveling the research into my bag, I went over the other supplies Kim shoved into my hands. Protection charms. Defense incantations. I didn't expect to need them, but it was comforting to have an extra contingency.

Until the tracking spells were activated there wasn't much to do. I didn't really feel like going out to find something to eat or exploring the town I knew like the back of my hand. Digging out a granola bar from my bag, I flopped back into bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. The room was quiet, enough that I could hear the faint thud thud thud of my heart beating. Anxiety pushed its pace faster. I took deep breaths, trying to level it out.

Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Anna.

[You at your hotel?]

Shit. I forgot to call last night. She'd been expecting me. So had the hunter brothers. Danger aside, I could've texted some excuse and not leave her hanging. I could live with them thinking I was a bitch, but not her. Unlocking my phone, I sent a reply.

[Yeah, sorry about yesterday. Got sidetracked. I'll make it up.]

It wasn't even a minute before she answered. Strangely, she didn't make a mention of it.

[You're at the Mayfair right?]

[I always stay here. You know that.]

[Just wanted to double check ;)]

I sat up, a sticky sense of foreboding washing over. Winky faces didn't mean good things when they came from Anna. Before I could ask why she needed a reminder about my go-to spot, there was a knock at the door.

"Hang on." I undid the latches, swinging it open.

Outside were a pair of sea glass eyes and a hesitant smile that could knock me off balance.

"Hi."

My heart leapt to my throat. "Oh."

"I'm Sam, we met yesterday?" He added quickly, searching my gaze for recognition.

"I remember." My fingers tightened around the door handle. I wasn't sure if I wanted to pull it open or slam it shut. "How'd you find me?"

"Anna said you were staying here," he admitted, looking mildly flush. Nervous? "She also said you liked these — violets."

My gaze trailed to the bouquet in his hand. Small, but the blooms were rich in a vivid dark hue. Even before I had colours I liked them, bought them when I could just because. They were out of season and definitely hard to find. He held them out in a silent offer, that earnest gaze coaxing me to accept them. To accept him.

For the second time I was struck breathless. "Oh."

"I figured I'd come with something. Maybe it'd convince you to let me in?"

A warning tug came inside my gut. But I didn't respond to it fast enough because suddenly the flowers were in my hand and he was inside the room. It was small, a kitchenette to the left of the door, then the single queen centered along the far wall. He didn't venture far, keeping to the corner of the kitchenette, his eyes tracing the space. Maybe out of curiosity. Maybe it was a hunter's habit.

There wasn't much of me to find. My bag sat atop the couch, and a small luggage case was parked next to the side table. The tv was on mute, some infomercial about lawn sprinklers running on repeat.