Chapter Twenty One
High Stakes, Hard Truths, and Hesitant Invitations
Elliot
We've been looking for an opportunity to approach Jared, a werewolf serial killer, for a few days now. Jared came on our radar when he killed two women in LA. That was two years ago, and this is the first time Sam has been able to track him.
He has apparently been holed up in this hotel in Sedona for two weeks, the longest he has been in one place. He must be planning something big, and we are going to make sure he can’t go through with it.
This mission differs from all our previous ones. My typical way of slowly making my victims trust me so they won’t suspect me won’t really fly here.
For one, this is not just another werewolf with a short temper, he’s a straight-up psychopath with a victim list a mile long. He doesn’t kill in the heat of emotion. No. He kills to stave off his bloodlust. He enjoys it, relishes the cries and helplessness of his victims.
I know because I knew someone like that once. I couldn’t do anything then, but I’ll damn well make sure this son of a bitch doesn’t even look at another woman in his life, let alone hurt them. But he is smart and too suspicious to trust anyone just after a few meetings.
Also, we don’t know how long he’s going to stick around here. We might not even have another day, let alone enough to casually arrange several run-ins over a period of time.
Every time I go on a new mission, I have a certain level of acceptance that this might be my last. This time, I’ll be surprised if I come out unscathed. This is going to be more direct, a lot more dangerous than anything I’ve done before.
Sam has been listening to all of Jared’s calls to the front desk and the kitchen.
We went over a few plans. Plan A is the simplest one.
It involved breaking into his room when he was out and replacing his water bottle with a laced one.
But it failed because the man had not left his room. Not once in two days.
Plan B of poisoning his room service order didn’t work either.
It was impossible to anticipate his orders, and by the time they delivered the same order to my door two floors down from his, they would send it to his room too.
Intercepting the calls wasn’t an option because the hotel still uses a primitive phone system.
Less technology equals fewer ways to hack.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Sam: We are on.
We were proceeding with Plan C, our last option. Incidentally, also the most confrontational and the last one we could reasonably try. Basically, a do-or-die situation in every way. Sam was reluctant, so I had to compromise. I’ll be walking into the wolf's den all wired up.
I’m already dressed in a housekeeper uniform over the disguise I used to check into the hotel. I’ve already rehearsed walking up to Jared’s room without encountering anyone from the staff. Thrice. Sam will keep an eye on any surprises. Rest, I’ll improvise as I go.
I knock on the door lightly.
“It's open,” Jared yells from inside. There goes my last chance of keeping it easy by simply handing him the bottles and bolting. We landed on water because it was the only repeat order we could rely on and keep on hand to act on a short-window opportunity we might be able to scrounge up. The man didn’t even drink enough of it.
I’d be worried about his health… you know, if he wasn’t going to be dead in a few minutes.
I turn the handle and walk into a room identical to mine, just slightly bigger, with a better view.
“Oh, thank god you’re here,” he says, saccharine sweet. He takes one of the water bottles from my hand, uncaps it, and gulps down half of it in one go.
I want to break into a giddy squeal I’ve never done before but I keep a polite smile on my face. I cannot stop the relief that washes over me, though. That simple? Sam and I are going to laugh about this for hours when I’m safely back home.
I place the second bottle on the table, nod at him, and turn to walk away.
Turning my back on him goes against my every instinct, but I can't possibly be stealthy right now.
“Hold on,” he says.
I do. I take a breath and turn back, a smile on my face.
He sniffs the bottle. “Why does this smell weird?” he asks.
I smile wider. “Oh, we’re trying this new herb-infused water. Supposed to be great for digestion,” I tell him. I did actually infuse some cinnamon into it to mask the chemical scent, but there’s no way of knowing if it would work on a werewolf.
He takes another whiff of the water. His face hardens. He slams the bottle down on the table beside him so hard that some water dribbles onto the floor.
“What the fuck did you add to it?” he says. His eyes narrow in anger, jaw hard. His massive hands ball into fists at his sides.
“The hall is empty.” Sam's voice says into my ears. “Get out. Now.”
Jared's eyes widen. “Who the fuck is that?” He stalks toward me before I can make any movement. He grabs me by the neck and slams me against the wall.
Everything goes blurry for a second. I blink a few times until a face comes back into focus.
A face with storm clouds roiling. “Who were you talking to?”
I just blink at the face. So familiar. So scary. I want to crawl under the sofa. Or better yet, run back to my room and hide like I did before he threatened to punish me by taking away all my friends.
“What did you do?” he asks, his voice low. Dangerous.
It’s getting harder to breathe, my vision going black.
“What was in the water, Elli boy?”
I scratch his arm, trying to take a breath.
“Elliot,” Sam's screech snaps me out of it. I blink again. Jared’s face is close, his teeth sharp. He’s not The Werewolf. I’m not six again.
I’ve trained for this. Scratching him is just wasting energy. Instead, I punch him hard right in the nuts. He stumbles back. I lean back, taking support from the wall, and kick him in the abdomen. That makes him back off.
This time I don't freeze. I dash towards the door.
My hand reaches out for the handle, then I’m slammed against the wall again, sharp pain jolting my shoulder. “You little shit. What the fuck did you give me?”
I scramble away from him, knowing what's coming next. The claws come out quickly. Quicker than I've ever seen before. Blink, and they're there. I’m surprised he hadn’t unsheathed them yet. Guess he was really curious about what was going to kill him soon. Not soon enough, though.
He’s clearly done waiting. Ten sharp claws move towards me. I plaster myself against the door, whatever good that’ll do.
Then he’s falling on his knees, body finally giving up. I blow out a breath.
He falls on his side, body going still.
“Elliot, what's happening? Are you—”
“It's okay,” I say. My voice comes out all shaky. “He’s down.” I manage.
I can still hear his heavy, angry breaths. His eyes are trained on me, just as predatory as they were a few seconds ago. The only difference is I’m not the prey anymore.
I take a step towards him.
He thrashes on the floor.
I startle. “Fuck,” I mutter. That has never happened before.
Then the movement stops, his eyes going still. But I’m still wary. At least his claws have retracted.
“He's gone, gone?” Sam asks in a breathy murmur.
“Yes,” I say firmly. The large body in front of me is completely still.
“And you’re okay?” he asks.
“I’ll live,” I assure him.
I take measured steps toward him. I can't hear his breath anymore. I kneel near his legs, feeling for a pulse. Not the most effective way, but I don't think I have calmed down enough to be within reach of his hands yet.
I close the cap on the water bottle and clean the water that dribbled out. I take the second bottle and finally approach Jared confidently. I check for a pulse again, two shaky fingers on his neck.
“He’s dead,” I announce.
Sam takes a relieved breath. I feel relieved for him. And for myself, too, of course. Not bleeding out in a random hotel in Sedona is always a relief. But this is important for Sam. He’s been after this werewolf for a long time.
“Okay,” Sam says, all business. “The hallway is clear, take the stairway.”
I do as he says. I didn’t touch any surfaces, at least not with my hands. There’s no blood to clean.
I’m not injured, but I feel a faint pulse in the back of my head and right shoulder. Good to know, I’ll have that to deal with once the adrenaline wears off.
Once I’m back in my room, I slam the door behind me and slump against it.
“I’m back. I’ll call you after disposing of everything,” I tell Sam and disconnect the call before he can answer.
We both know the drill. He’ll clear out any footage that might have captured my face.
All my existence will be erased once I’m out of here, which will be soon.
Not that they’re ever going to investigate this case.
There’s no reason to. But you can never be too careful.
This is not the time to process what happened in there. Not yet.
I empty the bottles in the sink, then give them a thorough wash before throwing them out. I clear out the extra medicine vials and crush the bottles before wrapping them in tissue paper. I’ll throw them out somewhere on my way to the airport.
Sam texts me fifteen minutes later with information about my flight in four hours.
Might as well get a lead on it and wait at the airport. I doubt I’ll be able to move again if I take a breather right now.
***
Although I took a shower back at the hotel before leaving for the airport, I make a beeline to the bathroom as soon as I reach home to wash off Arizona, Jared, and anything that happened in Jared’s room.
After scrubbing myself raw, I feel relaxed and sane.
It was a fluke, whatever happened there. We’ve been doing this for over five years now, and I’ve never frozen before. Sure, I was a bit snappy in the last mission, but that was because of the sleeplessness.