Chapter 29

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Hi!

Another chapter. We finally made it to the shabby motel. Alexander is, well, being him and Anna's still recuperating from what happened. I hope you like this one. Read, vote, comment! I want to thank you all for reading, I mean it.

Lara

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Chapter 29

I probably blacked out at some point during the drive, because I found myself back in Alexander’s arms without remembering how I got there. I gave a start, looking around in bewilderment. Visual information settled in, descended upon me like a bad memory; a patchy and gradual stream of impressions.

Neon lights flickered in a narrow corridor; walls crumbling at the corners. The floorboard creaked even underneath the careful and weightless steps of the vampires. Dust and dark spots of dirt – everywhere. I wrinkled my nose. A faint scent of waste and staleness.

Ghost-like, the Cellinis were gliding along gray walls in front of us, the silence only occasionally disturbed by the insignificant moaning of the floorboards. The vampires halted in front of one of the shabby doors. The garish fluorescence above the door threw them into light, unabashed and baring.

I squinted at the numbers on the door, finally figuring out that it was a dirty eleven I was looking at. So we were in the motel already – hopefully one that was far enough away from the airport. The Cellinis’ auras and power scored a neat ten on the undead Richter scale – fat chance of someone missing that.

Marco opened the door and handed the key to the young female vampire wordlessly. She walked into the room with unceremonious grace. Reluctantly, the two young male Cellinis – her brothers – followed her. The faintly gray painted door cattycorner turned out to be our next stop. Three mouthfuls of shallow-breathed oxygen later I found out that it was the room Antonio and his wife Chiara would be occupying. Marco raised his voice to a whisper, informing the couple that Peter and he would take turns watching the vicinity for rogue witches or possible assassins. Alexander, meanwhile, simply gave a nod and passed the room to walk to the next one in stony silence. Number 13.

Figures, I thought, rolling my eyes. I hadn’t counted on luck for the next few hours anyway.

Marco, who had hurried to us to open the door for Alexander as well, handed him the key in the same manner he had done before.

A sense of abandonment made itself comfortable in my stomach as I watched Marco turn around and walk down the corridor, close-lipped and brisk-stepped. Alexander maneuvered us into the poorly furnished room. The thick velvet curtains were drawn, doing a good job at shutting out the sun. The vampire didn’t even bother to switch on the lights. I was only able to see the furniture illuminated by the corridor’s offensive bulb-garishness. I saw enough to know that the vamps had followed my advice right down to the last detail. The motel was shabby.

The wood of the small table looked worn and old. Judging from its state and style it could have been manufactured in the seventies – tops. The chair wasn’t really better. My eyes brushed over the dark gray carpet that surely must have seen better days yet. There wasn’t even a sofa, just a-

My eyes widened. Only a double bed. Not two separated ones. My first thought was that I would rather sleep on the floor than hit the pillow with Alexander in one and the same bed.

The pleasure has already been mine, thank you very much.

The door closed with a heavy thud, total darkness taking over reign with a steady hand. I felt the vampire move, the unnatural grace of the vampiric kind even more pronounced in the dark. Cut off from other senses, I felt helpless. He carried me to the bed and put me down wordlessly.

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