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She went inside room number nine—still no Roman—and kicked the door shut.

“Hungry, Nugs?” The Familiar had moved from the chair to the bed. He was lying on his belly, cooling himself in front of the streams of air conditioning. He looked at her with a shrewd gaze as she toed off her shoes and sat down beside him. “I brought you some grapes.” She plucked one off the vine and set it on the mattress in front of him.

The way the seal pup was eyeing her told her exactly what he was thinking. Having a Familiar meant having an animal to answer to—all. The. time. Nugget knew all her mistakes, and he didn’t always let her off the hook easily.

She rolled her eyes. “I made a mistake, okay? I won’t be making it again.” She popped a square of cantaloupe into her mouth.

Nugget refused to eat. His eyes narrowed.

She nudged the grape closer. “I promise.”

He slowly lowered his head, eyes still on her, and sucked the grape into his mouth, swallowing it whole.

Shay cringed. “I don’t know why you do that,” she said, eating—and chewing, like a normal being—a sliced strawberry. “You can’t taste anything if you’re not chewing.” She gave him another grape. This time, he rolled it around on his tongue before swallowing it—whole, again.

Strange animal.

When she was finished eating, she got up and went to her bags, the prickling of her headache intensifying, and dug around inside the pockets until she found her medication. Checked to make sure Roman’s necklace was exactly where it should be, in one of the side pockets—

Uh-oh.

She poked around inside, searching for the fine silver chain and pendant. The necklace that she had made sure, every single day since she’d left Yveswich, had stayed. Put.

There was a tiny hole in the bottom of the pocket. A hole just big enough for Roman’s favorite pendant to slip through.

Her heart gave a painful thump. “Oh no,” she mouthed. She lifted a shaking hand to her lips.

Nugget blinked at her with round eyes.

“I’m fucked,” she told him. Nugget whined.

The motel room door swung open, and sunlight flooded the room.

Shay dropped her bag and straightened.

Roman stood in the doorway in a ripped shirt—no surprise there—and gray jeans, his tall form silhouetted by sunlight. He tipped his sunglasses down and looked her over. Closely. “You alright?”

“Fine,” she croaked. She cleared her throat.

He nodded slowly, looking like he didn’t believe her. “I don’t want you to get all weird about last night. That was just a friend helping out a friend. No big deal.”

Right. Roman had probably helped out a lot of friends.

She didn’t know why that made her stomach twinge like someone was shoving a fishhook through her belly button.

“Come here for a sec.” He started to walk out the door again, but paused and turned back around, looking at her over his sunglasses again. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I was getting changed,” she stammered.

He slid his sunglasses into place. “Come with me.” And then he walked out into the sunlight. The sound of gravel crunching under his boots gradually faded with distance.

Shay hurried over to her hiking boots and stuffed her feet into them. She laced them quickly, grabbed her key off the table, and left, telling Nugs that she would be right back.

Roman was waiting for her by the dried-out swimming pool. Feet braced apart, arms crossed.