“It’s a trap,” I said, sounding like Daphne or Velma in a Scooby-Doo cartoon.
“But we’re going into it knowingly,” Skyla said.
“And that makes a difference how?”
“We’ll be wary and prepared.”
I sniffed. “Whatever we think we know, Helen strikes me as the type to be already two steps ahead of us.”
Skyla opened her mouth to argue, but Thorin cut her off. “She’s right. Helen Locke is dangerous and should be treated accordingly, no matter what.”
Chapter Twenty-four
After suffering what felt like the two most boring hours of my life, we pulled through a security gate outside the Anchorage airport and drove into a huge metal hangar. Inside, a long Boeing corporate jet waited for us, its steps lowered to the ground like a tongue lolling from the mouth of a white dragon.
Skyla sucked in a breath and then exhaled, “Daaaamn.”
“Ditto,” I said, equally amazed. “Is this yours, Thorin?”
“Ours,” Val said, cutting in before Thorin could answer. “We’re technically partners, but I’m more the strong, silent half. Thorin likes to keep his hands dirty in the management and paperwork.”
“You keep it around in case of an emergency or something?” Skyla asked as she slid out of the truck.
“It’s a charter business,” Thorin said. “It pays for itself.”
“Mostly,” Val said.
Skyla studied the airplane’s body, caressing it with an appreciative gaze. “You guys can’t magically pop in and out of places? You have to travel by conventional means?”
Thorin arched an eyebrow at her. “Can you pop in and out of places, Skyla? How else should I accommodate your travel? We’re short on broomsticks, I’m afraid.”
Val hooted and slapped Thorin’s shoulder. It was the first demonstration of chumminess I had seen between the two. But, then, they no longer needed to maintain pretexts with us, and like most long-term relationships, I presumed Val and Thorin had experienced a lot of ups and downs together. They were compatriots, but also rivals.
Skyla pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t get so defensive. It was just a question. You can keep your secrets if it makes you feel more important.” She stalked to the rear of the SUV and tugged out her duffle bag. The rest of us followed her example.
We made ourselves comfortable in the custom cabin complete with bar, galley, and lounge. Skyla found an overstuffed recliner and plopped down with her iPhone. I went to the galley, found a can of Diet Coke in the refrigerator, and claimed another plush recliner beside Skyla’s. Val, Thorin, and Baldur stowed their bags and disappeared into the room with the bar. A TV came on, and the unmistakable patter of a news anchor filled the silence.
From my overnight bag I pulled a Carl Hiaasen novel– one I’d stolen from Val’s bookshelf when I was staying with him – and tried to sink into the story, but the roar of the engines lulled me to sleep. I dozed off not long after takeoff and woke when the jet’s wheels bounced hard against the tarmac as we landed. Skyla must have napped too; she sat up and blinked several times before rubbing a hand across her eyes.
“Rise and shine, ladies.” Val ducked through the low doorway into our section of the cabin. Skyla’s sleep-softened face turned hard. She scowled at Val for no obvious reason except her ever-present contempt and went to locate her bag.
Val ignored Skyla and stepped closer to me. “Vegas awaits. And Solina, I take it you have some shopping to do.” He waved a credit card in my direction, reminding me of my ever-increasing debt to Thorin.
Val slithered to my side and pushed the card into my hand. “Take it. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”
“You sound like the serpent in the garden, trying to tempt me,” I said, raising the card to study the information printed on its face. I coughed. “It’s got your name on it.”
“My cover is blown. Why should I pretend anymore?”
“But Val, I don’t want to—”
Val pressed a finger to my lips. I narrowed my eyes, but he only chuckled. “I’ve been in existence so long that I’ve lost count of the years. In fact, I existed before anyone counted years. How much do you think I’m worth, financially speaking? Do you think one shopping spree would even begin to burden me?”
I pulled back from his finger. “It isn’t about you, Val. You could have all the money in the world, but by taking it, I am indebting myself to you, if only in my mind. I’m more than a little uncomfortable with that.”
Val leaned back. His brows drew together, and he frowned. “I have no hold on you, Solina, though I have tried not so subtly to remedy that. My money doesn’t create a bond between us. Not one that I would want to enforce, anyway. What I want from you is nothing so tawdry that it can be bought.”
“Tawdry is your middle name.”
He winked at me and grinned. “Only when it suits me. But I don’t want to buy you, Solina. I want you of your own free will.”
Val made my head hurt, not to mention my heart. “Fine, then, I accept. But I owe you nothing in return?”
“Only your company for dinner tonight.”
I nodded. “I can do that.”
Val leaned in closer. “Just you and me.”
“Sure.”
“Buy something nice to wear. You’d look luscious in red, I bet.”
I pushed him away, unnerved by his scrutiny. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Thorin called for us all to come along, so I jumped up, found my bags, and scurried for the exit. A limo waited to take us to the hotel. I didn’t know what to expect, but based on the accommodations so far, my escorts would spare no expense, and I wasn’t disappointed when we pulled into the circular drive leading to the Bellestrella Hotel and Casino.
Thorin had told us Helen Locke owned the hotel through multiple layers of corporate organization, and she had created an architectural monstrosity that epitomized Las Vegas excess. Fountains danced in a massive lagoon stretching from the front of the hotel down to Las Vegas Boulevard, and Thorin’s yacht could have comfortably puttered around in it. The hotel extended a full city block and rose high enough to touch the heavens. Its stucco exterior and red-clay tile roof accents suggested a Mediterranean villa. A Mediterranean villa on steroids.
The visitors and guests making their way past us gave little attention to the grandeur, but I fought to keep my mouth closed and my eyes forward so I wouldn’t bump into anyone or trip on the cobblestone drive. Baldur lingered beside the car, gazing at the hotel and wearing a befuddled look. He was beautiful and godly, but in the short time I had spent with him, I sensed he was a bit… disconnected. He was in this world, but he wasn’t quite of it. Val accused Baldur of being a hermit, and he hadn’t seemed to take it as an insult.
Skyla scooted to my side as bellhops rushed to take our luggage. Someone wearing a tailored suit and a Bellestrella nametag came through the front door and strode toward Thorin, hand extended. He introduced himself as an executive vice-president and fussed and fawned over us—Thorin in particular. Even in his most humble attire, Thorin exuded an undeniable essence of confidence, money, and superiority. To the hotel guy, Thorin’s arrogance probably smelled like Eau de High Roller.
“See,” I whispered to Skyla. “You don’t have to be a god to have people worship you. You just have to have a sickeningly excessive amount of money.”
“If you will please follow me, I will show you to your villa,” said the hotel exec. “If you find anything that does not suit your expectations, please let me know right away.”
“Villa?” Skyla whispered. She clutched my hand and hugged it tight against her chest. “Villa?”
“If it’s too plush,” I said, “maybe you can ask them to pitch you a tent out back.”
Skyla jabbed a knuckle in my ribs. I moved to retaliate, but she ducked away, putting Thorin and Baldur between us. Val came around from the far side of the limo and took my hand. “This is the kind of place you could live in all the
time, Solina. I could give it to you.”
“You said on the plane you didn’t want to buy me. You wanted me to come of my own free will.”
“Do you blame me for trying to grease the wheels?”
I looked over the extravagant building, the dancing water fountains, the bustling people. The exorbitance of it all overwhelmed. “I really am a simple girl, Val. But no one seems to believe me.”
“You keep denying the truth. You are the sun, Solina. A queen. You deserve to have your throne.”
“Keep hissing at me, snake,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I’m not going to bite your apple.”
Val laughed and threw an arm around my shoulder. He was obstinately cheerful. It was the thing that most attracted me to him when we first met. Now I wished Val would chuck the forced smiles and take me seriously, for once. “Let’s go see our rooms. I’m sure Thorin picked the best.”
We traipsed through the casino, following our escort. The slot machines chimed around us, and a crowd cheered at the craps table. None of the games tempted me. I liked the sure thing—bird in the hand and all that. Besides, with Val and Thorin at my side, who needed a slot machine?
Chapter Twenty-five
We claimed our personal spaces right away. Skyla and I shared a bedroom, and the guys spread out among the other three. Thorin pulled out his laptop and cell phone and went to work the moment after the last bellhop left. Baldur disappeared behind closed doors, and Val said something about checking out the blackjack tables but elicited a promise from me to meet him later at Coquette, the Bellestrella’s French restaurant.
Though she acted as if I had asked her to go with me to forage through the city dump, Skyla agreed to accompany me shopping so long as I didn’t make her go farther than the boutiques in the hotel.
“I need another girl’s opinion,” I told her.
“I’m not a regular girl. I hate getting dressed up.”
“You’re not the one getting dressed up. I am. But you are perfectly capable of telling me whether I look like a hooker or not.”
“Is that the effect you’re going for? Because Val strikes me as a fan of the trampy look.”
I rolled my eyes and tugged Skyla’s hand so she would follow me out the door.
“So, this is like a date, huh?” Skyla said as she trailed me into a store filled with designer brands I had only read about in magazines.
“Who, me and Val?” I fingered the first price tag I walked past and blanched—my whole month’s salary to pay for a jacket. “I’m trying not to think of it that way.”
“Why not?”
“Because it insinuates something more between us than what’s really there.”
Skyla lifted a hanger holding a sequined denim jacket, scrunched her nose, and stuffed it back onto the rack. “I told you from the beginning that he was a player.”
I found a rack of cocktail dresses and flipped through several before realizing I had focused on the red ones, just as Val suggested. “And I’m saying you might be right. But it’s also a lot more complicated than that.”
Skyla’s brows drew down, and she glowered at me. “You think letting him buy you expensive dresses and take you to dinner isn’t encouraging him to have expectations?”
“He doesn’t understand ‘no’ very well, does he?”
Skyla smirked. “He’s a cocky bastard.”
“Val has been good to me and Mani.”
“So that’s enough reason to go to bed with him?”
The saleslady restocking the racks near us jerked her head and stared at us. I slipped closer to Skyla and lowered my voice. “I didn’t say I would sleep with him.”
Skyla shook her head, and her expression said she thought I was the stupidest thing to ever manage walking on two legs. “Girlfriend. What do you think can ever come of letting a man buy expensive clothes for you and take you to a fancy dinner?”
“What I think will come from this is obligation and attachment. Regardless of your opinion of Val, I’m not going to throw him away. He’s useful, and I believe his desire to keep me safe is sincere.”
Skyla arched a brow. “Sincere? Val?”
“He sincerely wants to keep his own ass covered, and if he thinks keeping me alive will do that, then why shouldn’t I benefit from it?”
Skyla’s mouth fell open. Her brows rose high on her forehead. “Well, aren’t you a sly little schemer?”
“I’m a little hurt that you underestimated me so easily,” I said and winked to show I understood she hadn’t meant to insult me. “I think it’s the blond hair. People make assumptions. Usually they’re wrong.”
“You don’t have to tell me about assumptions. I was a female of mixed ethnicity in the Marines. Sometimes military bigotry and misogyny were bigger enemies than the Taliban and Al-Qaeda.”
I looked away from the dress rack and studied Skyla.
She scowled. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m trying to imagine you in uniform.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “How’s that working for you?”
“I bet you looked totally kickass.”
Skyla giggled. “You’re right. I totally did.”
“I wish I could wear a uniform tonight instead of one of these.” I lifted a dress from the rack and held it to my chest. The fabric cascaded over my thighs, stopping several inches above my knees. The deep V-neck plunged to a ruched waistline. The design was daring and unlike anything I had ever worn. I hated it, but Val would love it, which was the point—that whole exploiting weaknesses thing. “I want to find my brother’s killer and stay alive until I do. If Val can help me do that, then I’ll wear a slutty dress once in a while if it keeps him on my team. I don’t intend to get hung up on romance… or sex.”
“For Val that’s all it would be, but Thorin?” Skyla shook her head and leaned closer. She took on a serious expression. “I think Thorin has deeper feelings for you. If you want to spend your time getting close to someone, I think you’d do better with him.”
I almost dropped the dress before I recovered and brought the hanger up under my chin. The nosey saleswoman noticed my fumble and rushed over before I caused permanent damage. “Can I start a dressing room for you?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” I said, handing her the dress. “I’ll need shoes and a bag, too.” A greedy gleam filled her eyes as the chime of cash register bells rang in her head. I gave her my sizes, and she went to work.
“Thorin has feelings?” I said. “Other than an urge to strangle me? I don’t think so.”
“I’ve been watching him since the two of you came back from Juneau. You know what I see?”
“No, I don’t. I don’t want to know. I have bigger things to worry about. Metaphysical, life-changing things.”
Skyla ignored my protests. “I see him watching you. Always, watching you.”
“Sure he is—to see if I’m going to set him on fire again.”
Skyla huffed but let the disagreement go. “Whatever.”
After completing her accessory-hunting assignment, the saleswoman came over and led me to the dressing room, eager to make a sale.
“No matter what you think,” I said to Skyla after we left the store carrying, among other things, the new red dress and its various accoutrements, “I promised Val I’d go to dinner with him, and there’s no getting out of it now. Besides, I don’t want to get out of it. I want Val close. Keep him in my pocket, so to speak.”
“I’m pretty sure that dress doesn’t have any pockets,” Skyla said, eyeing my shopping bags.
I groaned. I was already uncomfortable, and I hadn’t even worn the thing in public yet. If Skyla kept rubbing it in, I might turn around, return the dress, and ask the saleslady if she had any burlap sacks in my size. But no, I had made up my mind. No going back now. “That’s sort of the point.”
“Aren’t you afraid it’s going to cause more problems than it’s worth?”
I sighed and pushed a loose strand of hair o
ut of my face. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.”
Skyla put her finger to her lip and tapped it several times as she thought. “I think I can help you out.”
“Did you not listen to me at all? Who says I want you to help me out?”
Skyla winked conspiratorially. “Just trust me.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Thorin, Baldur, and Val had reached out to all their connections in an attempt to find Helen. So far they had been unsuccessful.
“It might benefit you if you were on each other’s friends-and-family plan or something,” I said to Thorin when I returned from shopping. He sat at a desk in his room, focused on his laptop. “Don’t you have a private online chat group? Ragnarok Survivors Anonymous?”
Thorin said nothing but turned and scowled at me over his shoulder.
“Why don’t you have Helen’s direct number on your contact list?”
“Until our trip to Juneau,” Thorin said, “I hadn’t seen or spoken to Helen in over two hundred years. I would have been more than happy to go another two hundred years without seeing her or speaking to her.”
“So, we just sit around and wait?”
“Unless you have a better idea.”
“We could rent out one of those animated billboards. Send Helen a message that way.”
Thorin snorted and turned back to his laptop.
I shrugged with a smirk and turned on my heel, heading for my bedroom. “You’re the one who asked for ideas.”
I paced the length of my room, gnawing on my nails and wasting energy on useless fretting. Skyla had disappeared somewhere after helping me lug the bags from my shopping spree back to the room. She didn’t say where she was going, only that she would be back soon.
Her absence left me alone and irritable. I thought about going to the casino for the novelty of it, but I didn’t have the funds for gambling, and no way was I going to take any more money from Val and Thorin. My gaze fell onto the private courtyard beyond the glass French doors in my bedroom. It was an elegant oasis in the middle of the Vegas sprawl: trim lawn, potted palms, plush patio furniture, and sparkling pool and Jacuzzi tub. I slid open my door and stepped out onto the lawn. The late afternoon sun fell on me and warmed my face, like the touch of a loved one. And the moonlight, when it came out later on, would forever remind me of Mani. Pretty awesome memorial, if you asked me.
Midnight Burning Page 19
