“Hey, sleepyhead,” Fox teased with a wide grin.
Winter’s sleep-fogged brain finally caught up to the missing pieces. Fox was up moving around after Winter had been sure to secure him with the handcuffs before falling asleep. Shoving to his feet, Winter winced as fresh pain shot through his back.
“You okay? You’ve got to be in knots,” Fox said.
“How the hell did you get free?” Winter snarled.
“Magic,” Fox said, wiggling his fingers at him with both hands.
“I’m serious!”
“So am I.” Fox crossed his arms over his chest, drawing Winter’s attention to the fact that the sexy little elf was naked except for a towel that was now barely clinging to his hips. “Witch, remember?”
“Then why didn’t you get out of the rope at Damon’s?”
Fox’s cheeks flushed a little and his eyes darted away from Winter. “I’m good with locks. Not with knots.” He shrugged. “Any kind of mechanical lock, I can get through with magic. Rope? Not so much.”
Winter groaned and rubbed his face, trying to shove away the last of the sleepiness and fog in his brain. “Why didn’t you just say something when I handcuffed you?” He dropped his hand in time to see Fox shrug.
“I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you thought I could escape or attack you.”
“And why didn’t you?” Winter wanted to groan at the clusterfuck this had become. He wasn’t awake enough for this shit. Not that Fox was wrong at all. No matter how tired he had felt, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to fall asleep if he’d known Fox could move freely around the hotel room.
“Attack you?” Fox asked with a laugh. “I’m not a killer.”
“Fine. Why didn’t you escape?” That would have been a way more logical choice given his circumstances.
The witch looked a lot more uncomfortable with that question, his eyes darting away from Winter to stare at the floor. “I had a lot of time to think while you were sleeping…and escaping doesn’t make all this just go away. Right now, you’re the only one willing to talk to me about what the hell is going on and not beat the shit out of me.”
“So, you stayed for answers.”
Fox shrugged. “There are worse reasons.”
“Thank you for not killing me in my sleep,” Winter grumbled sarcastically. This was all a mess.
Fox snorted, his flirty smile returning again. “I don’t think you would have noticed if I’d pulled you away from the door and left. You were seriously dead to the world.”
Which was more than a little unnerving. He had never slept so deeply. At least, not while strangers were around. Of course, he hadn’t slept much in the days since he’d heard about the prophecy and started making plans to infiltrate Damon’s house.
“How long was I out?”
“About five hours.”
The answer had Winter rocking back on his heels. Five fucking hours? How was that even possible? He could believe that he’d slept so long undisturbed with Fox moving freely about the room. The witch could have killed him a dozen times over.
“I did crush the mini bar,” Fox admitted with a wince.
Food. He’d promised the witch food. Damon and his band of assholes couldn’t be bothered to properly care for the key to their prophecy, which wasn’t surprising since Damon didn’t value any life beyond his own.
Winter shoved a hand through his messy hair. He needed to get his head on straight. “I’m assuming I can trust you to stay in the room while I grab a quick shower.”
Fox nodded. His expression was surprisingly serious. “Yeah, I’m not going anywhere. There’s no point. If it’s not your family coming after me, then it’s Damon and his people. I’ve got no interest in spending my life on the run, so I might as well stay and figure out what’s going on.”
It was a fair statement. He walked stiffly across the room and grabbed the black canvas duffle bag that had been lying next to the dresser. It didn’t look as if Fox had disturbed it, but he wasn’t overly worried. It held only a few changes of clothes and a small wad of cash. All of it easily replaced.
“Go ahead and order some room service. I’ll grab a shower and be out in five minutes.” He stopped and narrowed his eyes on Fox. “Do NOT answer the door for any reason.”
Fox lifted an eyebrow. “They can’t get to us during the day, though.”
“Not vampires, but we have no idea if Damon has any human helpers.” He held up his hand, all fingers extended. “Five minutes. Behave.”
The man chuckled and turned away from Winter. “I’m just going to put on my nasty clothes and order food. How much trouble could I get into?”
Winter wanted to groan, but it wasn’t Fox’s fault. He’d been kidnapped and then kidnapped again. Where the hell was he supposed to get clothes? Digging into his bag, he tossed Fox a clean navy T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. They weren’t too far off in size, and Fox should be able to cinch the waist enough to keep them on his ass.