He reached for me and brushed his palm against my cheek. “We can’t. There are four scouts in the park across the road, and the roof out there is lit up like a Christmas tree. I just signaled them to let them know it’s all good for the moment, but they’d know something was wrong if I tried to get off the roof. All of the entrances are being watched, they have been since last night.”
“There’s no other way out of here, is there?”
He closed his eyes as the edges of his mouth turned down. Then he shook his head slowly. “I can’t see one that won’t flag us as being out of place. We have to risk the lobby.”
My heart pounded in my chest.
“I’m sorry, Evie,” Clay murmured.
“For what?”
“For being me. If I wasn’t who I am, we could have probably strolled out of here without earning a second glance. Even now, there are people downstairs who are probably wondering where I am. I won’t have too much longer before my absence will draw attention. And yet despite all of that, there’s no way I can let you walk out of here alone. What if someone realizes the truth and I’m not there to stop them? I can’t lose you again, not if there’s anything I can do to keep you safe.”
The reality that we were surrounded on all sides by Rain operatives set flames in my blood. My pulse pounded, and I grabbed at my hair, pulling it back up into a ponytail. I needed something familiar to help me keep hold of my sanity.
“I think I have a something for that,” Clay said softly.
He reached into his bag again and pulled out a long blonde wig and a small container that must contain contacts. I hadn’t worn either in a long time, not since I’d lost everything in the fire that took Dad’s life. After helping me to properly situate the hairpiece into place, and watching me pop the contact in, Clay surveyed his handiwork.
His nose wrinkled. “It’ll definitely work to help get us out of here.”
“But?” I asked, worried because of the scowl on his face.
“But I prefer how you looked a moment ago.”
Scrunching up his shopping bags before throwing them into the trashcan beneath the desk, he surveyed the room one more time before looking back to me. I ran my hands over the dress to smooth it out, wishing I could settle my own nerves as easily.
“You ready to go?” he asked quietly.
I nodded.
“Perfect.” Offering me his hand, his lips turned up in a grin. “Let’s go then.”
CLAY WRAPPED his arm around my waist and directed me through the gathering crowd. His fingers pressed the red, silky material against my side, igniting a mild burning for more. Despite the barrier between my hips and his fingertips, I squirmed at the almost intimate touch.
“Relax,” he whispered in my ear. “Don’t do anything to draw attention to the fact that we shouldn’t be here.”
“Play it cool?” I elbowed his side. “I’ve got it. Now, can we get out of here, please?”
“Definitely.”
The main doors were in sight when suddenly Clay clutched my hip and twisted us so that we were heading into the throng of the party, into the room marked “Tavern on the Green,” where the majority of people were heading.
“What are we doing?” I whispered under my breath.
He stopped suddenly and grabbed my arm, before turning on the spot to face me. His abrupt halt and about-face concerned me.
“Do you trust me to get you out of here safely?” he asked in a rushed whisper.
I worried what might have caused the sudden change in his demeanor. His face was ashen, and he stared at a point directly ahead of him with horror-struck eyes.
“Of course,” I said. “Why? What’s wrong?”
Just as I was about to follow his gaze, his eyes snapped back to mine.
“Don’t turn around and don’t ask any questions. Just walk to the bar now and order a drink. Wait for my signal.”
Looking at the bar behind him, I saw two large mirrors that ran behind the bartenders and revealed the room to me. That must have been his plan, for me to watch him in the mirrors.
“What’s the signal?” It was all so familiar. Achingly so. My heart raced as doubt crept in. Was it his way of leaving me again? The thought sent bile into my mouth, and my need to vomit grew.
“You’ll know it when you see it.” His eyes held mine for a brief moment, and I saw no doubt, only resolve. It was enough for me to put my complete faith in him. He would get us out of here—both of us.
His arms dropped away from my side, and then he sidestepped me without another glance, but with fear on his features. Although I wanted to know what had caused his panic, I’d just finished telling him that I trusted him. If he didn’t want me to stay by his side, there must have been a good reason. With great difficulty, I followed his instructions and walked away despite my raging curiosity. He spun in place to follow my path as I walked by. I met his eyes in the bar mirror, and he gave a nod so understand it was almost imperceptible.
With my eyes still locked on the mirror as I approached the bar, the reason for his stress became evident. My steps faltered as Clay’s sister, dressed in a short pink cocktail dress, approached him from behind. Her mouth barely moved as she spoke to him, but her eyes never stilled—flicking from person to person without stop. The weight of her stare was palpable as it passed the place where I stood. I dropped my eyes away from the mirror as she assessed my back. When I dared to raise my gaze back up to the mirrors ahead of me, she had moved on. I straightened my shoulders and back, lengthening my neck, and stepped up to the almost-empty bar.
One of the bartenders was in front of me almost as soon as I slid onto a barstool. He asked me for my order with a smile that I was certain worked for him more often than not. I smiled politely back, but my eyes were trained on the reflection behind him.
“What’ve you got?”
He rattled off a few different cocktails, but I had no idea what any of them were. I ordered the one that sounded the least suggestive as I focused on Clay and Louise in the mirrors.
I took a moment to examine the changes in Louise since the last time I’d seen her. Her hair was still platinum blonde but had grown out into a sharp bob. Her dress clung tightly to her athletic frame. Whatever had shaped Clay’s body so well had undoubtedly helped Louise too. The pink material of her outfit was cut into angular segments that showed off large patches of skin even as it accentuated the severe line of her jaw and cheeks.
Watching as the two of them interacted, it was as hard as ever to believe that they were related—let alone twins. Clay’s face was round and soft in all the places Louise’s had grown sharp and hard. She wasn’t unattractive, quite the opposite in fact, but there was something about her that screamed unapproachable.
The bartender placed my drink on a napkin in front of me. I panicked as it hit me too late that I didn’t have any cash on me. My purse was in my bag, which was sitting in the garden outside of the hotel. Even if I’d had it, it was empty. Instead of showing any outward fear, I moved the clutch Clay had given me to my lap on the off chance he’d had put money in it. He seemed to have planned most of the details fairly well so far, so I was willing to go on faith.
“How much do I owe you?” I asked. Before the bartender could respond, I opened the bag and breathed a sigh of relief that there were a few bills stashed in it.
He held his hand to stop me. “Everything’s on the house tonight.”
“Thank you.” I slid a bill across to him regardless. “For your trouble.”
He grinned. “Thank you, Miss.”
When he didn’t leave but continued to stare at me instead. Figuring he wanted to know I was happy, I took a sip of my drink. I wasn’t entirely sure about the cocktail. My one night with Brian was the extent of my alcohol drinking experience—something I wasn’t readily willing to relive. With the little money I stole, buying food and shelter was more important. Still, I raised my glass and nodded to let him know I was happy.
With my gaze bac
k on the mirror above the bar, I watched as Louise and Clay continued to talk. His eyes scanned the room, just like Louise’s, only his seemed to settle on one person more regularly than any other. Me.
I took small sips of my drink so that I didn’t look out of place, but my gaze remained glued to the scene going on behind me, watching their hushed discussion. Neither of them seemed overly comfortable beside each other. Clay asked something, and Louise nodded in response, and I longed for the ability to read lips. Louise shifted closer to Clay and showed him something in her palm.
I shifted in my seat, trying to get a better view, but all I could see was a flash of light glint off whatever was in her hand before it disappeared again. I was tempted to turn around for a better view, but a tiny shake of Clay’s head stilled me. His fingers tightened into fists and released, repeating the same cycle over and over. Watching him carefully, it appeared that his discomfort was growing with every passing second.
There was a movement in the air beside me, and I shifted my gaze along the mirror as a man slid onto the barstool beside mine. There was something familiar about him, even from the quick glance I’d risked, but I couldn’t place what it was.
Heat prickled my fingers, and the hairs on my arms stood to attention at his proximity. I shifted my body as far away from his as I could and turned my attention back to Clay and Louise. My gaze was certain to be a weight on Clay as I watched carefully for any signal he might give. I was shocked by his new stance. His back was ramrod straight. His eyes no longer searched the room.
Instead, his gaze was settled fiercely on the spot between the man on my left and me.
“Nice night,” the man said after the bartender had given him his drink.
“Yeah,” I said quietly, not trusting my voice too much. I tipped my head forward so that the blonde wig fell forward to cover my face.
He turned in his barstool, apparently taking my one word as an agreement to start a conversation.
“Here for anything interesting?” he asked.
Keeping my eyes fixed on my drink, I shook my head. “Just passing through.”
“You here for business?”
I lifted my eyes back to the mirror, glancing at Clay as furtively as I could. “Nah, I’m just visiting an old friend.”
Clay shook his head when he caught me looking at him. He mouthed something, but I couldn’t make out the words. His eyes darted between the guy sitting beside me and me.
“So you’re not here for the convention?” The words were heavier than the previous ones my neighbor had uttered, weighted down with an intention that was almost impossible to miss.
For the first time since he’d sat beside me, I looked properly at the man through my curtain of hair. His dark-brown hair was cut short, and the edges were graying. The growth of his closely shaved beard hid the almost familiar shape of his face. His eyes, in the instant I dared to look at them, were such a dark brown that they looked perceptibly black—just like Clay’s. His lips, although not as pink, were a very similar shape to Clay’s and sat in the same permanent pout.
Realization dawned on me dangerously late. I’d been too focused on Clay and his sister that I hadn’t noticed the danger that had sidled into the seat beside me. I was making small talk with the man who killed my father—who would kill me without thinking twice. My first instinct was to stand and run, but that would only make the situation worse.
His gaze turned to me, and I had to remind myself not to react—my eyes were blue for the moment not purple. I took a quick breath to steady my voice and looked back at my glass, pretending with everything I had, that I hadn’t just made the startling discovery about who was sitting next to me and how dangerous he was for me.
“Convention?” I asked, playing dumb. I figured Clay’s father could probably spot bullshit a mile away, but I was adept at lying—I’d learned from the best.
He chuckled. “Don’t tell me that you just happened to be walking by dressed like that?”
Taking another swig from the drink in my hand, I quickly thought of a new lie. “Actually, I’m meeting an old boyfriend,” I whispered, hoping half-truths would be convincing enough. “He asked me to meet him here. If I’m honest, I’m a little nervous.” After smoothing the material on my lap, I ran my fingers through the end of the blonde wig. “It’s been a while since I saw him last.”
His gaze burned into the side of my face. I pretended not to notice and drank the dregs of my drink. I could sense him weighing my words in his mind, no doubt turning them over and assessing the truth.
Placing my empty glass on the bar, I picked up a napkin and tore tiny pieces from the edge.
His gaze trailed over my body, violating me without touch. His tongue brushed forward over his lips when he reached the neckline of the dress. “I think he’ll be happy with what he sees. I know I would be.”
I resisted the urge to shudder as my stomach churned. With some effort, I forced the corners of my mouth into a smile.
“Excuse me,” I said after struggling to find my voice. “I’ve just got to go to the ladies’ room.”
He nodded and turned back to the bar. I slid off the barstool and glanced around for the restrooms. All I wanted to do was run, but I fought my instincts. With slow steps, I walked toward freedom yard by yard.
As soon as I was in the safety of the restrooms, I collapsed against the vanity and took some deep breaths. My anger at the situation rose quickly. Clay had promised he’d get me out of the hotel, but instead, he’d forced me into even worse circumstances. Part of my mind, the part that was focused first and foremost on keeping me safe, whispered that I couldn’t be certain it wasn’t intentional. Maybe it was all a ruse to capture me; maybe Clay was the bait.
I didn’t believe that, but that didn’t mean it was easy to push the thought aside.
My hands shook as they tried to support the weight of my upper body. The marble beneath my fingers warmed as my anger flowed through me.
He had you alone upstairs, he could have killed you then. It would’ve been easier than bringing you to a public place.
That didn’t mean that his family hadn’t closed the jaws of a trap around us without his knowledge. Turning on the tap, I ran my fingers beneath the cooling spray. There was a momentary burst of steam before I could calm myself. I held my hands under the water to take away the worst of the sting and left them under the stream until the pinpricks left my fingertips. Afterward, I splashed a little of the water onto my face and took another deep breath.
Flicking the tap off roughly, I reached for the paper towels and yanked a handful from the dispenser, using them to dab my face dry.
Just as I was about to turn away from the mirror and leave, three women entered the room. They were all laughing with each other and joking. I was about to walk past them without a second thought, when one of them whispered to the others, “Do you think the Priestess is right about this place being protected? There’s going to be a crowd in here tonight.”
My mind reeled at her words. Was she a witch? Were they all witches?
I was certain the girls thought I couldn’t hear their conversation when they continued it in hushed whispers. “The priestesses have done what they can, but there’s never a guarantee when it’s a public place.”
I wanted to warn them about what was going to happen, but I wasn’t sure that I should. Maybe Clay had been right when he said that there were evil things in the world. Perhaps some of them masqueraded as sweet young girls.
Wasn’t that precisely what the Rain thought about me?
“There are quite a few strangers out there.”
They didn’t look evil. They looked like regular girls of my age. Girls I was even a little envious of for their ability to have simple, uncomplicated lives.
“You worry too much. It’s safe.”
They didn’t sound evil. If anything they seemed afraid. If they were powerful creatures who could wreak havoc on the human world, why would they worry about strangers?
Knowing I couldn’t stand pretending to dab my face with the paper towel any longer, I threw it in the bin and turned to leave.
One of my hands was on the door when a girl called out to me. “Excuse me.”
I held my breath and turned around, unsure what to expect.
She smiled at me and held out my clutch. “You left this behind.”
Releasing the pent-up stress in a sharp exhale, I thanked her. Just as she turned back to the rest of her little crowd, I reached out to touch her arm. “You might want to be careful,” I said as I glanced around. “There’s a good chance of rain tonight.”
I hoped that even if she was a witch, she was as unassuming as she appeared. It was possible I had betrayed Clay by issuing the warning, but I couldn’t have their deaths on my conscience. Not if there was something I could do to avoid it.
The end result would have to be up to fate.
Once I’d left the bathroom, my eyes darted around the room quickly to locate Clay. Instead, I saw his father still seated at the bar glancing in my direction with an unreadable expression on his face. Regardless of Clay’s plan, whatever it might be, I couldn’t wait any longer to find out. Every instinct told me to flee; I was way too close to the very danger he’d helped me escape from years ago.
I stepped out of the ladies’ room and saw a man who looked just a little older than me waiting by the stairs that led up from The Library. A plan blossomed to life in my head. I couldn’t simply walk out of the hotel alone, not after what I’d told Clay’s father. It would be far too suspicious, and I had no doubt he’d follow me to see if his original assumption was correct. There was a way to cement my story in his head, but I would need to use that man by the stairs to carry out my ruse.
Walking as quickly as I dared, I approached him. “Can you please help me?” I asked, infusing my voice with desperation. I had learned that few men could resist helping a damsel in distress.
“What’s wrong?”
Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire Book 1) Page 17
