Free Bailey Bradford - Southwestern Shifters 07 - Revolution by Bailey Bradford Page A

been surprised when Father Norbert didn’t protest. The priest had dove right into the backseat and hollered “Go!” the second he’d been able to. “I just want to keep everyone alive,” he explained when Jameson had gaped at him. “So please, hurry up!”
    Jameson had seen the church doors opening at the same time Luuk did. Almost an hour later, after Luuk was sure they hadn’t been followed, he turned in at an expensive-looking hotel. It looked expensive to Jameson, at least, but he was long since unused to luxuries.
    “Father, if you will go get two rooms?” Luuk tipped his chin at Jameson. Jameson dug out a stack of money. “This is all Monopoly money to me.” Luuk snorted and plucked out several bills that he then handed to Father Norbert.
    “This should be enough. Perhaps they won’t give you grief about not having any ID—” “I have my ID with me, but it would perhaps be best if it wasn’t necessary to use.”
Father Norbert tugged at his cassock—Jameson still wasn’t sure that was what the thing was
called. He’d been raised up Baptist and Catholicism had been the root of all evil when it
came to religions, at least to the Baptists he knew. Jameson believed people were evil, some
of them, at least. He wasn’t wont to condemn an entire religion.
“I’m going to ditch the car, then Jamie and I will catch a cab here. Less chance of leaving
a scent trail.” Luuk waited until the priest was inside the hotel before he pulled away. “Let’s hope they have rooms,” Jameson muttered. “We need some cell phones, maybe.
One of those prepaid kinds if they have them here. You could call Maarten, let him know
we’re alive—”
“Maybe,” Luuk said, turning into what looked like an alley. “If it can’t be traced. I
won’t put him or us in more danger than we’re already in. The Fathers, either. Come on, we
need to get out of this car before the police track it down.”
“Okay.” Jameson opened the glovebox and found a few napkins. “Fingerprints?” “Shit.” Luuk took one and began rubbing at the surfaces he’d touched. “Not that my
prints are on record or anything, but I don’t want them to be, either. Is there anything in
there with the owner’s name and address on it? I would like to reimburse them for the
inconvenience I’ve surely caused.”
Jameson found a pen in the glovebox and the registration as well. He wrote down the
owner’s name and address then wiped his side of the car down. Once done, he then went to
the back seat and cleaned it as well. They tucked their napkins in their duffle then headed
out of the other end of the alley where they scaled a fence. “This way.” Jameson jogged out of
the stuffy little area and skidded to a halt before he could slam into a man walking down the
sidewalk. “Sorry.”
The man waved a hand and kept going. Jameson looked at Luuk. “Now what? Cab?” “Yes.” Luuk took his elbow in hand and began steering them away from the direction
of the hotel. “There’s a store right ahead. We could check there quickly, then get a cab. I don’t
want to leave Father Norbert alone for long in case there are problems.”
“You think we were followed somehow after all? Why did we even leave him then?”
Jameson scowled at the ground, angry and tired and scared.
“No one followed us,” Luuk said with more patience than Jameson figured he
deserved. Luuk wouldn’t have put the priest at risk. “But if there are no rooms or he got a
room and called the hospital, and…”
“No.” Jameson almost stopped and stomped his foot, he was so frustrated. “Father Piotr
can’t die, Luuk. Not now. I don’t think I can handle one more loss.” The sob startled him. He
hadn’t felt the buildup, the burn in his chest or nose or eyes. He’d simply opened his mouth
to breathe, and now he was falling apart on the damned sidewalk.
“Jamie, love.”
Jameson didn’t know where they were, if Luuk had moved them off the sidewalk or
what, because his eyes