Black Dog by Caitlin Kittredge Page B

smile.
    â€œYeah, I wasn’t going to say anything.” He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled off the black wife beater underneath, handing it to me. “Here.”
    I lost a few seconds staring at his chest, at the twin stars inked on his collarbones and the death’s-head that took up the space from his heart to his abdomen. The hood and the scythe were a human’s fantasy of Death, from someone who didn’t know what really happened when you met a reaper. Cyrillic alphabet ran up his ribs, and his biceps were covered in roses, spiderwebs, and groupings of tiny crosses and skulls.
    The daggers I’d glimpsed were pretty intricate and surrounded by red blood droplets, as if the ink had actually pierced him. Shirt off, I could see where he got his strength—­he was all muscle on his thin frame, the kind of body designed by genetics for inflicting damage.
    Leo put his shirt back on and buttoned it, not meeting my eyes. “Are you going to ask me what they mean? Because we could be here for a while.”
    â€œThey mean the same thing as me having fangs and claws does,” I said. “ ‘Stay the fuck out of my way.’ ”
    Leo poured the last of the gasoline-­smelling vodka into a dirty glass and drank it. “Close enough.”
    â€œYou really don’t have to stick with me,” I said. “You don’t owe me anything.” Truthfully, I wanted Leo to stay more than I wanted anything, except maybe to have never met Lilith. But he wasn’t going to, so why prolong things?
    â€œI told you, it’s not about owing,” Leo said. “We’re mutually beneficial. You could use a hand and I could use someone who can keep a deadhead off my ass if my father catches up to us.”
    I nodded. “Okay. But if you’re gone when I get back with burgers, I won’t hold it against you.”
    Leo shook his head. “Thieves like me believe in loyalty, Ava. I get that you probably haven’t had a lot of that, but I’m not going to dump you after all this.”
    I backed out of the room and walked out to the county road without saying anything else. Leo was right. I’d never had somebody stick around when things weren’t going their way. I’d sure as fuck never had my loyalty repaid by anything but more orders at best, and a knife in my back at worst.
    I’d died because I was loyal. Loyalty was for stupid girls and brainless thugs, and I wasn’t either of those things anymore.
    Lilith had me by the throat, so I’d go to Wyoming. I’d do what she asked, but Gary was gone—­Lilith showing up in his place proved it for my purposes—­and as far as I was concerned my contract was void. Clint Hicks was my last roadblock, and I decided then that when I did find him, pet shifters or no, Clint Hicks was going to be one sorry son of a bitch for getting in my way.

 
    CHAPTER 11
    W e crept out of the motel room predawn, before day-­shift maids started their rounds. I figured not giving a fuck was a prerequisite for employment in a place like this, but Leo insisted.
    â€œMy father has a lot of ­people willing to do a lot of things,” he said, shrugging back into his suit jacket. “Right now, his one and only priority is finding me and feeding me my own nuts. The fewer ­people see us, the better.”
    â€œFine.” I shrugged. My arm still twinged with every motion. I hadn’t slept much, waking every few minutes whenever someone in the walkway stumbled to the ice machine or one of the happy customers in the upstairs room moaned.
    Leo patted himself down for his crushed pack of Russian cigarettes and a lighter, sticking a smoke between his lips. He lit it while we surveyed the parking lot. “That one.” He pointed at an orange Sprint that was more rust than paint.
    I shook my head. The Sprint had left a glossy puddle on the pavement under the transmission, sported expired tags,