Page 30 of (Mostly) Human Resources

When the map was finally printed from the wheezing, ancient printer beside him, the man frowned at the paper. He then directed the frown at Alexys, and she shrank back a little.

He asked, “Why’d your company send so many people then?”

It was her turn to frown at him. “They did?”

“Seems like it.” He pulled up something on his computer and nodded. “Yep, thought so. That other guy who asked me to print this same map, he said he was with Entirety, too.”

Alexys’s heart tried to sink and soar at the same time which resulted in it doing a painful somersault in her chest. She didn’t even bother correcting him on the company name, she was too focused on Elliot. “Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting him there. Elliot Harman, he has a room here too, and … Well … he might have left a little early.”

There was a flash of an epiphany in his eyes. “Right, I get you,” he said, folding the map in half and sliding it across the desk. “Y’all need to be careful.” Somehow, the man’s expression grew even more serious than before. His thick brows drew down until his eyes nearlyvanished beneath them. “If you’re both chasin’ after that Hollow Walker, you need to keep your head about you. The woods out there can be pure dangerous. Like my Mamaw always said,every story is rooted in truth. Ya get me?”

A thrill of excitement raced through her. They were on the right track! She knew where Elliot was. And if she left first thing, she was sure she could find Elliot.

“Thanks for the map,” Alexys said, tucking it under her arm.

“Happy monster hunting.” He grinned, and Alexys knew the jig was up.

Once she managed to sneak back into their room without waking Nic, Alexys finally felt tired enough to sleep. Her phone went on its charger, and the newly printed map went into her backpack. She was unconscious as soon as her head hit the pillow.

And then, she was walking.

The hall carpet was rough beneath her feet.

She was heading to Elliot’s room. A voice, an instinct, in the back of her mind told her she needed to get there before something horrible happened.

The hallway stretched on and on—no matter how far she walked, Elliot’s door remained the same distance away.

Alexys walked faster, her bare feet soundless on the carpet.

The hallway was dark and empty. Her heartbeat faster, and she started running. Her footsteps were muffled and painful as the carpet became rougher, as if she was walking across sharp stones. She was gasping for her breath, lungs aching as she tried to run faster, and faster. Elliot’s door was too far, and she was too slow. If she didn’t get there in time, if she was too late …

Alexys jerked to a stop, pulled straight off her feet by a firm grip on the back of her shirt.

That’s enough now, a soft, feminine voice said from somewhere in the darkness behind her.Time to wake up, Alexys.

She surged upright.

Sweat trickled down her neck as she tried to slow her breathing. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed, buried her face in her hands, and tried to calm her racing heart. The longer she sat and listened to the hum of the A/C, the further away the dream drifted from her memory. When she was finally composed, she chanced a look at Nic only to find him still peacefully asleep on the other bed. How he managed to look so comfortable on the too-small hotel mattress was a mystery, but really, more than anything, she was relieved she’d not disturbed him. That he’d not witnessed her nightmare-induced sweating. She collapsed back onto the pillow, exhaling. She checked the clock: 3:41 a.m.

She begged any deity listening to let her sleep for at least a few hours, but her prayers went unanswered. Sleep evaded her for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER 17

“I begged the angel to save us and protect what was left of my family. She said all miracles have a price, and a miracle such as this would be a heavy burden. The angel offered to imprison the devil in a cage of her making, a cage built from the blood of my family.”

The Fairchild Grimoire,1590 Entry by Constance Fairchild

Nic learned very quickly that Alexys Keane was not, in any way, shape, or form, a morning person.

She was actually an unholy terror.

Like something out of one of his illustrated creature books. She grouched and grumbled through her entire morning routine. Nic was mildly concerned she might attempt to stab him with her toothbrush when he tried to use the sink.

He’d considered warning her against her chosen attire, jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, but he thought better of it. He had to admit, there was something mildly amusing about seeing her in this light, in a rundown hotel, in the middle of nowhere. Something that almost endeared her to him.

Almost.

While she aggressively tugged on her tennis shoes, Nic asked, “Are you a breakfast person?”