Luke's Dream (6 page)

Rubbing my gritty eyes, I settled on
following her with the bike. With a bit of luck, she wouldn’t make
me chase her for too long. Hoping she’d be all right on her own for
a while, I left to get the bike. People glanced at me as I ran by
at an impressive, yet human, speed. The machine started with a
growl, and I eased from the lot.

Driving as quickly as traffic would allow, I
made it to the station a few minutes later and parked. My heart
raced as I jogged back to where I’d last seen her. Worry ate at me
until I saw her. She was still where I left her, but a bit more
slumped in her seat.

An older man sat on a bench near hers and
seemed to be watching over her as she dozed. I walked over.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her,” I said,
as I sat beside her.

“It’s not the best place for a nap.” His
voice didn’t hold censure, only concern as he nodded his grey head
at a group of men at the far end of the station. My gaze followed
his and locked with one of the men. After a moment, the man looked
away in apparent disinterest.

“No. It’s not,” I agreed. “She hasn’t been
sleeping well, though.”

She moaned in her sleep, proving my words
true. I pulled her close so her head rested on my shoulder. She
nestled in and quieted.

“I never sleep well before I travel. Too many
what-if’s running through my head,” the man said.

“Yeah. The unknowns can rob you of the moment
if you let them.”

“Very true. Where you two headed?”

“She’s headed to the west coast.” I opened
her bag and tucked a few more folded bills next to her tickets.

“Alone?” the man eyed Bethony again, probably
guessing her age.

“Unfortunately.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her for you.”

“Thank you.” His promise gave me a small
measure of ease. She’d have someone looking after her while she
rode the train, but what would happen when she departed? I’d just
need to be there at each stop. The bike went fast. It shouldn’t be
a problem.

Just before the train was due, I eased her
off my arm.

“Thanks again for looking out for her.”

“You’re not staying till she boards?”

“I can’t, but wish you both safe travels,” I
said, standing.

“You too, friend.”

As I walked away, the train approached the
station, its brakes emitting a high pitched squeal. I turned to
watch Bethony and the older man board. I hoped she’d stay safe.
While I waited for the train to depart, I got the list of scheduled
stops.

Several hours later, I realized my mistake as
I pulled up to the first stop the train was scheduled to make. I
was almost an hour behind the train. Traffic and roads that tended
to meander had slowed me down.

Getting off the bike, I walked the station,
checking for Bethony’s scent. The crisscrossing flood of smells
slowed me down further as I meticulously filtered through them.
After a thorough search, I got back on the road confident she’d
continued on.

However, at each stop, I fell further behind
the train, and when it came to finding a scent trail, time was my
enemy. My worry started to climb at the third stop when I scented
werewolf. I combed the area twice for her scent but found
nothing.

With a new sense of urgency, I pushed on
through the night.

* * * *

I parked the bike and stretched my shoulders,
trying to relieve the tension. My eyes felt gritty, but riding all
night wasn’t what bothered me. The worry did. Walking in the
direction of the station, I inhaled deeply, searching for her
scent. I wasn’t expecting it when I found it.

Stopping, I inhaled again to pinpoint the
direction. The station was at the head of a busy T intersection.
Traffic flowed by, polluting her trail, but not as badly as it
could have if I’d arrived after rush hour. Turning, I eyed the road
behind me. The sidewalk ran along the parking area toward a
district with restaurants, hotels, and other attractions.

It would make sense for her to go that way. I
walked several blocks to make sure and caught her scent
frequently.

In front of a hotel, her scent grew stronger.
I approached the doors. Yep, she’d been there.

Going inside, I ignored the front desk man
and followed the trail up the stairs and to a door. I knocked and
waited several minutes, but she didn’t answer.

I went back down to the lobby.

“Good morning. Can you ring room two-oh-four
for me, please?”

The man looked down at his computer.

“Who are you trying to reach?”

“Dee,” I said, giving her fake name. “Tell
her Luke is here.”

I knew I was taking a risk. There were a
hundred ways this could go wrong. She might tell the man to call
the police. Or the call might cause her to run again. However,
considering she was underage and using false identification to
procure a room, I doubted she’d care for police involvement. And,
as for her running, I was becoming rather used to following
her.

“I’m sorry, sir. That room is empty.”

“You must be mistaken. She said she would be
here.”

“She was, but she checked out already.”

I barely refrained from swearing as I turned
from the desk. Of the things that could have gone wrong, this is
what I’d feared most. Where had she gone and was she safe? Outside
the door, I paced left than right, trying to pick up her scent.
Taking the right, I continued down the sidewalk and hoped I was
following the right trail. The track led me right to another bus
stop in a rather disreputable area.

Jaw clenched, I read the posted bus stops
then hurried back to my bike.

It took several hours to pick up her trail
again. And when I did, it was at a gas station in a small town. The
bus had stopped there and Bethony had departed. But in which
direction? Panic gripped me. She’d gotten into one strange car
already. How would I track her now?

I ignored the man at the pump and paced near
the road, trying to decide how to handle the situation. A tease of
cinnamon slowed me before I strode along the shoulder. Inhaling her
scent, I growled. She’d taken off on foot, heading out of town. It
was freezing outside, and all she had was the hoodie I’d given
her.

Unsure which was worse, hitch-hiking or
walking with inadequate covering, I jogged back to the bike.

Whether she liked it or not, when I caught up
with her, I was sticking with her. She obviously couldn’t fend for
herself.

She was
walking along the shoulder of the road, again, and didn’t move over
when I neared.

“No sense of self-preservation,” I said to
myself as I slowed.

She did, however, turn to watch me as I came
to a stop beside her. Her lips were tinted blue with cold. Shivers
racked her body.

“Are you mental?”

Using more force than necessary, I kicked the
stand on the bike and dismounted as I removed my jacket. She needed
the warmth more than I did.

“You’ll freeze out here,” I said when I
reached her. Within seconds, I held her bag and had her covered
with my jacket.

She looked up at me. The way she studied my
face gave me equal hope and discomfort.

“Tell me about my sister,” she said, putting
her arms through the sleeves of my jacket.

“Sister?” When I’d checked her house, there
had been two scents. Hers and another very similar. I’d assumed it
belonged to her mother.

“The one who sent you to find me. You said
she was weak. Did you hurt her?”

Hurt Gabby? I snorted.

“Not a chance. Her guard dog doesn’t let
anyone near her.” Not true. I’d managed. I smirked at the memory.
“Well, he tried to keep us away.”

Thinking back, I could almost empathize with
how he tried to keep us from Gabby. At the time I’d thought him a
pompous prick for keeping us away from a Mate who showed no
inclination to Claim him. Now, I understood. Kind of. Gabby was
quite a bit older than Bethony, and Clay was still a prick.

I realized my thoughts had drifted when her
eyes narrowed, and she closed the distance between us. Uncertain of
her intent, I tensed, ready to defend my jolly boys.

Instead of a raised knee, she reached up and
placed her hands on my shoulders. The cool touch seared me more
than any heat ever had. My tired brain shut down completely as the
tips of her fingers dug into my skin and she rose on her toes,
bringing her mouth close to mine. The urge to take, to touch, to
taste nearly overwhelmed me. Her scent wrapped around me, beckoning
for more. I inhaled slowly and glanced at her lips. Would she taste
like she smelled? I almost leaned in, but something tickled my
mind. There was a reason I shouldn’t. She exhaled, her breath
heating my face. I licked my lips, savoring the hint of flavor
she’d left. I wanted more. My vision started to change, and I tried
to concentrate on maintaining control.

She leaned in, rubbing her cheek against my
jaw. The move brought her dangerously close to my neck as she
pressed against me. The zipper of my loaned jacket dug into my
chest. My legs felt unsteady, and I gripped her waist, unsure if I
wanted to hold her in place or nudge her away. The feel of her
under my hands set my pulse thundering.

“I will not choose you,” she said, her soft
words brushing the shell of my ear.

Reality crashed upon me. She was too young
for Claiming. What was I doing? I was supposed to be keeping her
safe, not snogging her on the side of the road.

When she pulled back, I loosened my grip on
her waist and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to frighten her with
the evidence of how close the change was. The effort didn’t seem to
work because on my next inhale, her fear nearly choked me.

I forced the change back and opened my
eyes.

“Good,” I said as if nothing had just
happened. “Someone your age shouldn’t be choosing.”

I walked away from her and carefully mounted
the motorcycle. My body ached because of what she’d done. Maybe
later, when my brain moved from south to north, I’d start to wonder
why she’d done it. Right now, I couldn’t stop feeling her tiny
frame against mine.

“Coming, Bethony?” I asked, holding out her
bag.

“Bethi,” she absently corrected as she stared
at me.

Her nickname turned over in my mind a few
times. Bethi suited her more than Bethony.

Finally, she nodded and slowly approached the
bike. When she reached my side, she took the bag and settled the
strap across her body.

After her declaration, I’d thought she would
have hesitated to touch me. No touching would have helped calm me.
However, as soon as she settled on the seat behind me, she wrapped
her arms around my waist. It felt too good. Too tempting. Fatigue
wanted to rob me of resistance. I clenched my jaw and steeled
myself.

“Stay away from my neck,” I said as I lifted
my feet and twisted the throttle.

As soon as I’d managed a decent cruising
speed, she leaned into me, pressing her chest against my back. The
bike swerved ever so slightly, and I tried to create some distance
between us, but she kept following.

“Hold still,” I said.

She backed away for a few seconds then
returned. In addition to her chest against my back, her hands also
wandered around on my stomach every few seconds. The touching was
driving me crazy. But it was nothing compared to when she pressed
her cheek to my shoulder blade. The trust in that move struck a
chord I wasn’t ready for.

She sighed heavily, a sentiment I wanted to
echo. Why did she have to feel so good?

Her hold on me loosened. That was the only
warning I had before she started to lean too far to the right.
Panic gripped me as I caught her with my right arm and started to
brake. As soon as we were stopped, I twisted to look at her.

Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed, and
her breathing light and even. She was sleeping. I pulled her into
my lap, shaking.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

Her eyes popped open, and she blinked,
seeming not to see me.

“Well?” I demanded. She blinked again. Didn’t
she realize what had just happened? If I hadn’t moved when I had…If
I had been human or slower…I swallowed hard. Then, her eyes
widened. She glanced around before she pulled away and eyed me as
if just realizing her position in my lap.

“Crap! Did I fall asleep?”

“While I was flying down the road on a
two-wheeled death trap? Yes!”

She stiffened in my arms.

“Put me down. Please.”

“Gladly.”

Lifting her off my lap, I gently set her on
her feet beside the motorcycle.

She rubbed a hand over her face, then met my
gaze.

“I’m sorry. I’m tired.”

All my anger evaporated. Thin, tired, and
cold. And I was yelling at her. She seemed to sense the direction
of my thoughts because her gaze hardened.

“Save your pity. I don’t need it.”

I held up my hands to stave off any argument.
It seemed to be all she wanted to do. That and sleep. I voted for
sleep, but not until we reached a bed.

“Are you going to fall asleep again? Because
we won’t get far this way.”

“Yes, I’ll most likely fall asleep again. No
matter what I’ve tried, I can’t seem to avoid it.”

“Maybe you should stop avoiding it,” I said,
exasperated. Humans needed sleep. It was a fact of their lives. I
could see she wasn’t prepared for the facts though. I sighed,
knowing I was going to regret my next words.

“Loosen the strap of your bag as far as it
will go, then get on.”

Bethi did as I asked, and once she was behind
me, I lifted the strap over my head and tightened it, effectively
strapping her to me.

“Take both arms out so it’s around your
waist,” I said. If there was frustration in my words it was because
I could feel too much of her front against my back. I hated that I
loved it so much.