Chapter Eighteen
I sat on the thousand-count sheets of the luxury hotel room in a fluffy terrycloth robe that weighed more than I did. The dust and grime had been washed from my body in the opulent shower that housed an assortment of indulgent soaps and shampoos and perfumes. I was squeaky clean and floral-scented, but I still felt grimy and battered.
The bruise I had from pounding the jaguar statue was still visible along my pinky finger down to my wrist. My heel throbbed and the pain radiated dully up my calf from kicking at the statue. I’d only made a hairline crack in the ancient object, but my old bones were rattled. No wonder, since I’d been around my kind for two weeks straight now and the allergies were in full effect. My healing and reflexes were slowed. My body was weary and my
