January in Atlantis, Alyssa Day [read any book txt] 📗

exposed part of her body away from their hands. She knew it was stupid of her, and probably prejudiced, because only a scratch from a shifter in animal form could deliver the virus, but still. Better safe than sorry. She had enough to worry about without turning furry under the full moon.

She wasn’t going to get any sleep now, so she decided to head to the shelter and help out. Mornings were usually pretty busy. Especially Saturday mornings when families liked to visit and bring the children to try to find a pet.

Anyway, the last thing she wanted to do was sit alone and think about Scott or what she was planning to do.

Or Flynn either.

Definitely not Flynn. How could they have shared that intensely erotic connection so hard and so fast, only to get swept away on the tide of duty and obligation? She’d hoped… Never mind what she’d hoped. She needed a donut. She picked up her keys and started out the door but then paused, staring at her suitcase.

“Just in case,” she whispered to the empty room.

When she left the driveway, the suitcase was in the trunk of her car.

She took a slight detour to the bakery on the way to the shelter and picked up a couple of coffees and an entire box of donuts. Mrs. M had a terrible sweet tooth and liked to say she planned to indulge all she wanted from here on out.

“I’ve eaten healthy and exercised all my life,” she’d told Eva. “And I promised myself that once I made it to eighty, I would do whatever I wanted. So if I want to eat donuts every morning for breakfast, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Eva smiled at the thought as she pulled into the driveway at the shelter, but then her heart sank. Mrs. M. What if she’d seen Griffin floating around outside Eva’s apartment last night? What if somebody came looking for Eva and found Mrs. M.?

Eva wouldn’t put it past Monkey or any of Scott’s other thugs to hurt a little old lady as a way to get information.

Her breath started to come faster and faster until she was practically hyperventilating. Her heart raced. This was a terrible plan. She couldn’t take a chance on dying before she ever saw Gramps again. How could Flynn and his small band of allies really save her from a high demon?

She had to leave. She had to run.

She’d tell Mrs. M today that she was moving out and never go back to the apartment. She’d also explain just enough to convince her landlady to leave tonight, a few days early, for her annual two weeks at her sister’s in California.

Then she’d go to the bar and tell slimy Noel that tonight was her last night. If she didn’t work, he probably wouldn’t pay her for the week since he usually paid her on Saturdays. She’d be better off not to tell him anything until after she had her pay in hand.

She’d also loudly say something about how she was headed to North Dakota or Montana. And then she’d get in her car and drive straight to Florida.

Except… except. How would she ever be able to live with herself if she ran?

She sat there in her car, staring into space for a very long time. And then a sense of peace settled over her. Yes. She’d leave. Just as soon she helped Flynn and his team find the girls and save them.

Or die trying, the nasty, scared part of her mind tried to say, but she stopped listening. Her decision was made, and that brought its own measure of calm. So she probably would never make it to Florida. She probably wasn’t going to live long enough to get out of Nevada.

But hey. At least her death would mean something. How many people could say that?

Gramps.

She had to call him and somehow say goodbye without actually saying it. She didn’t know what would be better—for him to know she’d died, or to always wonder what happened to her. Maybe she should write it out in a letter and mail it, but she didn’t know how to tell the person she loved most in the world that she was headed off to her death, so she decided instead that it was better that he live with hope for whatever time he had left.

That’s when the tears came. She pounded her fist on the dashboard and sobbed, crying out the pain—a mixture of anger and sorrow for what could’ve been if only she’d listened when Gramps and her friends had warned her away from Scott. But she didn’t allow herself the luxury of self-pity for very long. She wiped her face, blew her nose, and got out of the car.

Time to say goodbye to Mrs. M and the dogs and cats.

Time to say goodbye to Daisy.

The thought brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes, but she blinked hard and fast and forced them back. Mrs. M would make sure Daisy found a good home. Would make sure all the dogs and cats found good homes. She’d find someone else to volunteer, someone else to rent the little apartment in which Eva had felt so safe, if even for such a short while.

But only Eva could save those girls, she reminded herself, deciding to take it as a mantra.

Save the girls, save the girls, save the girls.

Just then Mrs. M stepped out on the porch of the office, her arms filled with two large bags of dog food. “Eva? What in the world are you doing standing out in the parking lot? We have so much to do! I’ve got at least five families coming in when we open at nine o’clock. Get your butt in gear, girl. We’ve got cages to clean and hungry dogs and cats to feed.”

Eva laughed and surreptitiously wiped away her tears. “You got it. Let me just put your coffee and donuts on the counter.”

“Did you say donuts?” Mrs. M’s eyes lit up. “You’re an angel among angels.”

An angel. Well. She’d be “among angels” soon enough. For now she’d feed some puppies and try not to think about anything at all.