FAR GONE

Chapter 18

I stopped in front of the motel Seraphina had told me about. The building loomed in the shadows, its neon sign flickering with the kind of glow that spoke of secrecy more than welcome. I didn’t move immediately. Instead, I stood there, watching.

People came and went in pairs. Men with women, women with men, their laughter low, their steps close together, as though the motel’s walls held something f*******n only lovers were meant to see. The security at the front door hardly blinked at them—just a nod, a glance, and they were waved through. But I could see the way their eyes scanned the crowd. Sharp. Trained. Nobody was slipping past without being noticed.

I folded my arms, taking my time, studying the rhythm of it all. Tight security. Too tight for a place that was supposed to be nothing more than a lovers’ den. My jaw clenched. Whatever Seraphina wanted me to find here, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Finally, I pushed myself forward. My boots sounded against the cracked pavement, carrying me to the entrance.

One of the guards stepped in front of me before I even touched the door. His eyes were hard, cold, sizing me up.

“Who are you looking for?” he asked, his tone flat.

I held his stare, keeping my expression unreadable. “I’m here to rent a room.”

For a moment, silence stretched. Then the guard flicked a glance at the other man beside him. They shared a look—something like amusement, maybe suspicion—and then the first guard turned back to me.

“You don’t know the rules of this place, do you?” His lip curled slightly, almost a smirk.

“What rules?” I asked, though my chest tightened.

The second guard crossed his arms. “You can’t walk in here alone. No partner, no entry. That’s how it works. So…” His eyes scanned the empty space beside me. “Where’s your partner?”

I opened my mouth, ready to come up with something—anything—but then a voice cut across the night.

“Babe!”

The sound froze me. Both guards turned their heads at once, and instinctively, I looked back too.

What I saw nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.

Mia.

She was walking toward me, her steps steady, her face calm, but there was something different about her. She looked… sharper, almost unrecognizable, like she had shed one skin for another. For a second, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me.

One of the guards squinted. “And who’s this supposed to be?”

Before I could speak, Mia reached me. Her arm slid against mine, locking her shoulder with mine in one seamless motion. She leaned into me as though the touch was natural, her body warm, familiar, but her eyes carried something else entirely.

“Can’t you really tell?” she said coolly. “This is my boyfriend.”

My eyes widened. I turned my head slightly toward her, whispering under my breath. “Mia… what are you trying to do?”

She leaned closer, her voice low, a whisper meant only for me. “Just play along if you really want to execute your plan tonight.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded, the questions piling up too fast for answers. But she didn’t give me space to protest. She tilted her chin up at the guards, her tone suddenly sharper, playful, laced with innuendo.

“Or was it when my body has lost the heat that you’ll let us through? My man and I just want to enjoy ourselves.”

Her words hung in the air, bold and unashamed. The guards looked at each other again, but this time, their expressions shifted—less suspicion, more knowing smirks.

“Fine,” one of them muttered, stepping aside. “Go on in.”

Mia didn’t wait for me to respond. She pulled me forward, dragging me past the threshold of the motel.

The motel smelled of stale cigarettes and damp carpet, the kind of place where secrets rotted faster than bread left out in the sun. I pushed the creaky door open, letting Mia slip in behind me. Her eyes darted everywhere—wide, restless, catching everything at once.

A couple of men hunched over a chipped wooden table in the corner, cards fanned out in their hands, their cigarette smoke curling like lazy ghosts toward the ceiling. A woman in a torn red dress leaned against the bar counter, tapping her chipped nails against a glass of something cheap and amber. The lights overhead flickered weakly, as though the place itself was trying to keep its eyes half shut.

Mia’s nose wrinkled. She wasn’t made for places like this. Her shoes clicked softly against the grimy tiles, and she kept adjusting the strap of her bag like it could anchor her here. She was out of place, glaringly so, and the fact she didn’t realize how much was infuriating.

I caught her wrist suddenly, tugging her toward a dim corridor at the side of the building where no one was lingering. The smell of mold was stronger here, and the single light bulb overhead buzzed like an angry insect.

I lowered my voice, my face only inches from hers.

“What the hell are you doing here, Mia?”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t look afraid. “Was it Seraphina that told me to come?” she asked softly, her tone accusing, like she’d caught me in something.

I frowned. “What—”

“If Seraphina hadn’t sent me here,” she pressed, chin tilting stubbornly, “would you really have come inside tonight, Kael?”

My jaw tightened. Her words scraped something raw in me. She didn’t understand—not any of it. “You should get out. Now.”

Her brows knitted, confusion flashing across her face. “What?”

“You’ve got no idea about the kind of danger waiting ahead,” I muttered, my voice low and sharp. “You don’t belong here. Leave, before it swallows you too.”

Her lips trembled, but not with fear—with defiance. “Why are you sending me away. I am just here to help you, I’m not blind, Kael—I know I owe you. You saved me, and this is the only way I can repay you.” Her voice cracked a little, but she stood her ground, eyes glistening. “Why can’t you see my efforts?”

I clenched my fists at my sides, holding back a surge of frustration. “Did I ask you to do anything for me?” My tone was sharper than I intended, but maybe she needed to hear it like that.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her silence louder than her words.

That’s when I heard it—the low rumble of an engine cutting across the still night. I turned my head toward the cracked window at the end of the corridor.

Headlights spilled into the lot outside, washing over the chipped paint and broken glass. A black car slid into the building’s lot, its tires crunching over gravel like bones.

My pulse kicked up.

The door opened, and from the shadows stepped a figure I knew too well. Raven.

I exhaled harshly, my voice low, almost a growl.

“Raven is here.”