Priceless

“Stay here, buddy, I’ve got to get us a room change.”
    Once John saw the damage, he gave me the nicest room the motel had, a suite with two separate beds stuck in the sixties.
    “Can’t believe it,” John said and handed me my new room key. “You think they were after you specific-like?”
    “Nah, I wasn’t even in there, John. I bet they were just looking for an easy score.” I felt a bit guilty; after all, it was my werewolf that caused the damage. I’d leave an extra large tip in the morning.
    I waved to John and quietly beckoned Alex to come once the manager was out of sight. Alex bounded from the Jeep and barrelled past me into the suite, throwing himself onto the green shag carpet and rolling about with total abandon. “Listen, buddy, no more breaking into rooms, just wait by my Jeep, okay?”
    Alex just stared at me, amber eyes uncomprehending. Letting out another sigh, I took off my jacket and placed my blades on the bed. My night-time routine never changed, no matter where I slept. The only thing I wouldn’t do tonight, since Alex was here, was go for a run.
    Going through combinations involving hands, feet, elbows and knees, I worked a circle around an imaginary opponent. Muay Thai was my preferred method of hand-to-hand fighting; it gave me the most possibilities for striking out at someone. I always practiced in my working clothes, so that whatever restrictions they gave me, I learned to deal with before an actual fight. Fight like you practice and practice like you fight. That was what my instructors drilled into me. Once I’d gone through the various blows, I dropped to the ground, first into a plank, then into push-ups; over to my back for crunches, and then back to a plank. Sweat dripped around me, my jeans sticking to my body, and I ignored it all. No matter what, I needed my body to be strong and fit for fighting. If it failed me, then I would fail a child, and that was not acceptable.
    An hour and a half after I started, I finally let myself quit. Leaving Alex to guard the main room and front door, I headed into the bathroom to shower off. Taking advantage of someone else’s hot water tank, I stayed in until the water cooled, my muscles tensing under the sudden temperature change. Stepping out onto the tile floor, water dripping everywhere, I glanced up at the foggy mirror. The heat from the shower sluiced off me as ice trailed down my spine. In bold letters written across the mirror were the words:
“Cross the Veil and Die.”
    I snatched a towel and wrapped myself up in it, then searched the room, opening the two cupboards and the single closet. Nothing. I peeked out into the main room to see Alex sprawled out on the bed, but no one else. Closing the bathroom door, I used the only other towel in the room to wipe the mirror clean, my hands shaking just a little. The words seemed to be etched into the glass, and all my efforts at erasing them were futile. Giving up, I stepped out of the bathroom, preferring to dress in front of Alex, who had no concept of nudity, than in the room where it felt like someone was watching me. Give me blood and gore any day over perversion and peeping toms—probably creepy, greasy little men. Damn, someone already knew I was looking for India. The only person I’d told was Milly. Could she have spoken to the wrong person in the Coven? Shit.
    Clean clothes on, hair towel-dried, I crawled into bed and patted the covers. Some people might think it weird that I let a werewolf sleep with me. But when you have immunity and can’t be turned into a werewolf, there really is nothing to worry about. Other than the atrocious dog farts. He curled up at my feet, let loose one of said farts, and promptly began to snore.
    Despite the words on the mirror, the worry over India and the pack chasing Alex away from home, sleep took me in less than ten minutes, my workout giving my body the tired edge it needed to drop off into dreamland.
    Bad dreams were usual for me as my mind relived my past, and tried to make things better. I opened my eyes in my dream and it was Christmas morning, early, and Berget was tiptoeing into my room, not realizing my eyes were already open, her bright yellow pyjamas and housecoat making her easy to see. She’d always had a thing for the neon shades.
    “Rylee, it’s Christmas morning! Wake up, we can go get our stockings!”
    I closed my eyes. “This isn’t real.”
    “What’s not real?” I opened my eyes and stared into her