scanned the place, presumably looking for Shadow. As she should be. How could she let herself be distracted by a carnal encounter when Julia was missing?
“He’s in the back talking to some guy playing pool,” Rafe said.
“My glasses, please?” She held out her hand.
He glanced at his hand as if he hadn’t realized he held them, and then set them in her palm with a cocky smirk.
Rafe was right. Follow the creep. Hope that Julia was staying with him and that he’d lead them straight to her.
Retreating to the booth, she snuck a peek at Shadow. Rafe dropped into the seat across from her, signaled to the waitress and ordered drinks for them both.
Claire fidgeted, occasionally glancing into the back room. But she kept feeling Rafe’s mouth on hers. Why had he kissed her? Was it just a ploy to prevent Shadow from recognizing him? But she thought he didn’t know Shadow. You’re overanalyzing again, Claire. It was just a kiss.
It was probably the stress of the moment. Her disguise had thrown him. She wasn’t herself, and so he’d been more attracted to her Goth persona. How… depressing. She’d never been kissed like that. Rafe had kissed her as if his soul were on fire, with such smoldering passion that if it had gone on much longer she might have incinerated right there on the spot.
Her face was aflame just thinking about it. Avoiding his eyes, she dabbed at the perspiration at her temple.
Finally Shadow strutted over to the bar. He didn’t look well. He was sweating heavily, his eyes darted around and his body twitched. Even she knew the signs of someone in need of a fix.
He appeared to be trying to wheedle the bartender into something, but he wasn’t successful. When begging didn’t work he pounded the bar. Whatever he yelled was drowned out by the deafening music. The bartender pulled a gun from somewhere and Shadow backed off. Then he shoved his way through the crowd of punkers and bikers and stormed out the front door.
Claire shot out of the booth with Rafe right behind her. He grabbed her hand and led her through the oblivious barflies.
Once outside, Claire breathed in the fresh air, while Rafe searched to the left, then the right. “There,” he murmured and pulled her down the cracked sidewalk toward a darkened street.
She spotted Shadow, about thirty yards ahead of them, hurrying away on foot. Her heart pumped. She wanted to sprint after the guy and make him tell her everything he knew about Julia, but she walked beside Rafe at a normal pace.
When Shadow disappeared around a corner, Rafe sped up, pulling Claire along. His strong, callused grip gave her courage. She didn’t feel so nervous.
At the corner, Rafe stopped and peered around the building before heading down the side street. Shadow was moving at a faster speed, and the dimly lit street made it more difficult to keep track of him. The farther they went, the less populated the area became. A lot of the buildings were boarded up or falling down and as they progressed, buildings gave way to empty fields. Ahead was an old graveyard, made eerie and sinister-looking by the fog.
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