“Hurry!” a voice yelled from the other side of the door.
“Fuck.” Cam undid the belt around Ana’s wrists, took one last look at her, and went to the damned door.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cam swung open the door, ready to tear the head off of whoever had interrupted them.
“Someone’s after you!” Crone-chic cried, her fat black cat on her heels. It danced anxiously in place on too-small paws while Crone-chic waved her hands.
“How the hell?”
“Get dressed, get dressed! A man stopped by the desk, asking about someone like your woman. They had magic. Strong enough to sense the protections here. I can’t guarantee they’ll hold, not against one like him. You’ve got to get out.”
“Shit!” He turned back to Ana, who now leaned on her elbows, shorts tugged haphazardly about her hips. She stared at him, eyes wide.
“Cernowain,” she whispered.
Fuck. She had to be right. God of animals. He felt it then, like the snap of a rubber band against skin.
“Someone else is here,” Ana hissed.
Someone had come through the aether from Otherworld. Someone else, if Crone-chic was to be believed about Cernowain. Which she was. The witches prided themselves on the security of their hidden rooms. Protecting their guests when the spells broke was protecting their own reputation.
Cam cursed himself for being so caught up in Ana that he hadn’t felt Cernowain’s arrival. He dragged on his shirt, not caring that it was filthy, and turned to see Ana ready to go, dressed and with her bow strapped across her back.
“Hurry!” Crone-chic cried from the doorway, her cat meowing its agreement. “Just because I sent them away doesn’t mean they won’t be back!”
Cam grabbed his bag from the corner and followed Ana out into the hall, leaving behind an empty room and the heat that had so recently engulfed them.
“We need a flight out,” he said to Crone-chic. “Now.”
“Well, um—” Crone-chic waved her hands some more while the cat continued to hop around, nervous energy radiating from its spiked black fur and one good eye. Not good under pressure, these two. “There’s nothing ’til tomorrow, but my nephew can get you out.” A crafty gleam entered her black eyes. “But it’ll cost you.”
Cam sighed. “Of course it will. Take us to him.”
They followed Crone-chic down the stairs and into the back alley, eyes alert for their pursuers. Though he and Ana could feel the arrival of someone from Otherworld, knowing that person’s exact location was beyond their ability. He could only tell that they were nearby. Which could be in this very alleyway.
Cam kept his gaze alert, constantly scanning the darkened passage for any sign of movement. The night was black and still, the animals quieter than usual.
“Here, here,” Crone-chic whispered and pointed to a small door. “Inside.”
Cam ducked under the little doorway behind Crone-chic and Ana, surprised by the modern kitchen within.
“Wait here.”
She returned within a few minutes, a sleepy and disgruntled man of about twenty following her down the stairs.
“This is Paolo. He’ll fly you inland.”
“Inland? We don’t have that kind of time. We need to get to the coast. To an airport big enough to get us to London.”
“Take it or leave it, man,” Paolo grumbled. “I got cargo to deliver. For you and your money, I’ll leave early. You can catch another flight from there.”
Cam considered their options and realized that they didn’t have any. “Fine.”
It took them five tense minutes to sneak across town to the tiny airport, thirty more for Paolo to prep the plane—all of which were fraught with anxiety—and finally they were airborne.
“Fates,” Ana muttered, shifting to find a comfortable place on the floor of the plane as it headed toward its cruising altitude. Cargo boxes full of who knew what teetered in piles surrounding her. “Finally.”