Shards: Book One of the Anderian Series

Chapter 35: Dread

A long shower later and another nap, and I felt better physically. Mentally, I was still reeling from my realization. One I was doing my damndest to ignore because it couldn't be true. Or could it be true and I just didn't want it to be true? Or what if it wasn't true, and I actually wanted it to be true?

"Shit," I hissed, pushing my palms into my temples and staring up at the ceiling. My thoughts and emotions were one giant cluster of confusion that no amount of sleep or showers could cure. I needed to find Cian. He was the only one with answers.

But with June busy—a headboard in the room next door slammed against the wall, and a loud feminine moan followed it. Surely that was someone else getting lucky tonight. I would hope my friend would have the decency to pick a room a little farther away. Or maybe she picked next door to entice me into joining. Not because she was eager to have sex with me, but because she likely sensed the funk I was in, and according to June, sex cured everything.

"Well, of course it does when sex energy literally feeds and heals you," I muttered, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and staring out the window.

We were in a small city, so only a few pinpricks of light interrupted the stretch of darkness outside. Cian could be anywhere. I'd like to think he was alive and pissed because that meant he was searching for me, but if he was injured or captured, I could be moving farther and farther away from him. I touched the new spot on my chest and was rewarded with a burst of warmth and a flutter. It was true. This was proof.

Cian was my mate, and I had to find him.

Thirty minutes later, I stood in front of a mirror again, this time tying my heavy chestnut hair into a messy bun and dabbing a bit of concealer on the shadows beneath my eyes. The concealer, like the clothes I now wore—a basic ensemble of dark wash jeans, white t-shirt, and green leather jacket—was borrowed from a woman in a room one floor below this one. Turns out none of this hotel's four stars applied to their security standards, and I was able to swipe a master key from a cleaning cart.

I found everything I needed for the road in just a few rooms. Clothes, toothbrush, backpack, and money. It was tempting to be greedy and take everything because I didn't know how long this hunt would take, but I limited myself to necessities and what could get me going; however, I didn't hesitate when I found a gun in a suitcase. Its cold weight was a comforting presence pressing against my lower back. It wouldn't stop the enemies I was going to encounter, but it would slow them down. At least until I had enough strength to fight back.

A quick note scrawled on hotel stationary explained everything to June. I didn't bother apologizing for what I was about to do, but I thanked her for saving me. It was my turn to save her by telling her to get far away from me before she ended up hurt or worse—dead.

The pen's tip bit into the paper as I jabbed a period at the end of my last sentence. Was June going to listen to me? Probably not. Would she forgive me? I hoped so. Now, I just had to get out of here before she returned. Outside, the sky was a blend of purple and pink, which meant she could come back at any moment, though I hoped she indulged in a bit of morning fun first. It would give me more time and maybe make her less mad.

A girl could hope.

Snatching up the keys, I eased the door open and peeked up and down the hallway. When I was sure the coast was clear, I walked casually to the elevator, keeping my leisurely pace when I made it to the lobby. As the automatic doors slid open, I heard the angry voice of a man telling the woman at the front desk someone had robbed him. In the glass's reflection, I could see him and another woman. His attention was on the clerk, and hers was on me.

"Honey," the woman said in a high-pitched voice. "That woman is wearing my jacket."

"Shit," I said, choosing to bolt instead of pretending like I hadn't heard her. I didn't have time to be interrogated and pretend like this jacket was just a coincidence. By the time I peeled out of the parking lot, a crowd had gathered, and a security guard shouted at me, waving his hands uselessly as I peeled out onto the main road.

"Shit," I shouted again, slamming my hand on the steering wheel. This car was all but useless to me now. If someone had even managed a partial license plate and remembered the color, the police would have enough to find me. One hour. That's how long I would drive before ditching it. It would take that long to get the police to the hotel, question everyone, and get the BOLO out.

"Alright. Where to?"

The mate bond flared to life, and I took the next right without questioning it. It hummed in approval. I touched my chest, amazed at how tangible this connection to Cian felt. Gods, I hoped he wasn't disappointed, and then I gasped.

Hand raised, I stared at it. No gloves. I'd forgotten gloves.

In fact, had I been wearing them since I woke up? I ran my hands all over the dashboard, console, and passenger seat and came up with nothing. No echoes. No sense of anything. Trembling, I returned that hand to the steering wheel and stared ahead. Instead of the freedom I thought I would feel if my ability ever vanished, I felt nothing but a rising sense of dread.