Jameson
My day was going just dandy. Apart from the screams, the blood and general death I found in every casino. Wanna play poker? Could do, so long as I was sitting next to a glass room where girls were being butchered by Vs. Blackjack? Sure, if I was willing to accept 'going bust' meant the death of the girl I'd been assigned to play for.
Lives. Were. Currency.
And I was running out of excuses for not playing a hand. So I made my way back to the hotel after my not-so-relaxing morning and headed to the spa. Cass had stayed in our room, making it fairly clear she wanted some space from me. Fairly clear; as in she'd locked me out of the room and told me if I didn't think saving those girls was a priority, then she didn't want to spend a second longer in my company.
I tugged my clothes off in a white-walled locker room and pulled on a fluffy white robe.
Guess swimming trunks are off the menu here.
I followed the signs and the guiding warmth of the steam through to a large bath house designated for the men.
It was empty. I guessed most people staying at the hotel preferred murdering chicks as a mode of relaxation. Not my style, funnily enough.
I dropped my robe and slipped into one of the bubbly hot-tubs dotted around the edge of the large swimming pool.
I rested my elbows on the side, sighing out a breath of relief. If I could hole up in here for the next three days – bar looking like a prune – I could totally survive it stress-free.
“Can I get you a drink, sir?” I jumped at the voice, gazing up through my mask at a girl in a small, white dress. It was basically see-through and the blonde wasn't sporting much in the way of a bikini underneath.
“Whiskey, thanks.” I shut my eyes and when she returned, felt her hand slide down my shoulder to get my attention. “Here you are.” she planted the crystal tumbler in my hand and I glanced up at her, her eyes fixed firmly below my waistline.
“Is there anything else you need, sir?” She bit her lip and for a moment I considered what the hell? But even I was beyond screwing a girl who voluntarily worked in a psychopath's playground.
“That'll be all, cheers.” I tipped the whiskey up, letting the whole thing wash down my throat. Was it before midday? Probably. Did I give a damn? Hell no.
Unfortunately, Miss See-Through Gown had brought up a couple of feelings I was trying to avoid. Cass-related feelings. Maybe there'd been another reason for turning her down. This was getting ridiculous. I probably should have spent time with another girl or two to get my attention off of her. But something was holding me back.
Goddammit. What's the matter with me?
“Keep 'em coming.” I gestured to the blonde who had shed her gown and was stood behind a bar in her minuscule pink bikini.
Ho-ly shit.
I shut my eyes when she walked over, planting another drink in my hand. “Just you and me today,” she laughed.
I peeped up at her, hmming my agreement. Before she walked away, I caught her ankle. “You like working here?” I was beyond curious as to how Hunters employed their staff. I mean, seriously, they must have had to be warned about what they were signing up for beforehand. Or did they turn up on day one and get stuck here, blood, guts and all to deal with whether they liked it or not?
“Of course, sir.” Her smile was terse, giving away the truth.
I sat up straighter. “You can be frank with me. It's my first time and it's a bit much even for me.” I gave her one of my winning smiles and her cheeks coloured on cue.
She dropped to a crouch, her platinum hair falling forward to create a curtain of privacy. “It's alright here. But I used to work in the Fortress.”
“What's that?” I frowned.
“The red building on the edge of the strip. I mean...I've done stripper work before, that's how I got this job. One of Rockley's men spotted me in a club in Amsterdam. But that place...” She glanced over her shoulder, moving to stand but I grabbed her wrist to halt her. “I shouldn't be talking about it,” she hissed.
“You can trust me,” I promised, knowing deep down I probably shouldn't have been trying to find an ally amongst the house staff. She was clearly afraid and scared people usually made stupid decisions.
“The things they ask the girls to do...” Her eyes filled with some dark memory. “I told Rockley I didn't want to do it any more and he moved me here.” Her pale blue eyes sparkled. “He looks after me.”
“What about the other girls?” I narrowed my eyes on her.
Her gaze darkened. “A lot of us don't know what we're signing up for before it's too late.” The sound of men chattering made her hurry to her feet. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked formally and I shook my head, glancing at the three men walking in; butt naked and in more need of a sack, back and crack wax than anyone I'd ever seen.
I finished my whiskey as they dropped into the tub next to mine, discussing the money they'd made and lost on girls' lives that morning.
Charming.
“They've got men down at the Chantelon,” one of them said.
“Na, not interested in killing blokes,” another replied in an east London accent.
I stood, giving them an offensive eyeful of my junk as I climbed out of the pool and grabbed my robe. “Only little girls screaming get you off?” I raised a brow, pulling my robe on.
They grinned, nodding their agreement as if I'd been serious and I marched away in disgust, planting my glass down on the bar as I left.
As I headed into the changing room, the pattering of light footsteps followed me. I turned around, finding the blonde girl standing there with a piece of paper in her quivering hand. “If you need anything, let me know.” She held out the paper which had a name and number on it. “Call this – it's a direct line to my tablet. I'm Gina.” She moved to leave, shooting a glance over her shoulder, looking uncertain, before impressing, “Anything.”
It probably would have sounded sexual to any other ears than my own, but I was ninety nine percent sure Gina had just given me a not-so-subtle hint that she didn't like this place. And she sensed in me that I didn't either. What she wanted out of our newfound connection, I couldn't be sure. She had no idea who I really was or what I was planning. But hey, having friends in this place had to be a bonus.
I tugged on my clothes and pocketed the number, heading out of the spa and walking to the elevator with the vague hope that I was no longer banished to the rest of the resort by Cass. As I waited for it to arrive, standing before the golden doors, screams rang out from the ballroom. My throat constricted as cheers followed and morbid curiosity drew my feet in that direction.
To say I regretted walking into that ballroom was the understatement of the century. A girl was armed with a single stake against four Vs, one of which was currently chomping on her arm. A web of silver parted the crowd from the erected stage so the Vs were contained within it.
She was dressed in a skimpy red dress that was slashed open across the belly. It only took three more seconds before the Vs had torn her apart and a tumult of noise rang out. A man called out the winning bid which had come closest to the time of death.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets, trying to act casual as I backed out of the room and headed to the elevator.
Sick. Sick. Sick.
Buried memories split open inside me of Emerico's neck snapping between my jaws, of the taste of my pack's blood on my tongue. I jammed the button to the elevator again and again, anxiety rising inside me like a dam about to break. Pressure was building. I was going to lose it.
The elevator climbed painfully slowly.
“Come on, come on,” I said through my teeth.
The doors finally slid open and I was through the gap before it was really wide enough, marching down the corridor of grey carpet, angelic music warbling in my ears. I bashed my fist on the door to my room.
“Open up, Firefly,” I barked and the door wrenched open.
I stepped into the room and my anxiety was forgotten at the sight of the tears dampening Cass's cheeks. Didn't realise Vampires could cry.
She moved toward me in a flash, slamming the door shut. Her chin tilted up as she invaded my personal space, her eyes locking with mine. Not that I minded. Invade away.
An urge to kiss her overwhelmed me, but I remembered my vow not to.
“Hey...” I reached for her and she smacked my hand away, her eyes ablaze.
She knotted her fingers into my shirt, pulling me close again, looking at war with herself. I kept still, unsure how to act.
“Er...”
“Kiss me,” she demanded and a lump rose in my throat.
“You told me not to,” I groaned. Was I actually refusing to kiss the girl of my dreams?
She moved closer so I could count every damp eyelash, every tiny freckle on her cheeks.
“I changed my mind,” she breathed.
Well hell if I was gonna say no twice.
I crushed my mouth to hers.
She reciprocated with passion equal to my own. I knew stopping would make her question what she was doing, and selfishly I couldn't let that happen. So I didn't stop. I didn't ask her why she was crying. Or why now she'd chosen to want me.
We rushed our movements like both of us knew stopping would put an end to this entirely. Her fingers dug into my spine as she led me toward the bed where all my dreams were about to come true.
But the floodgates opened. Inevitable and so god-damn infuriating. As we reached the bed, I stopped, leaning back from her with a sigh.
Her mouth was parted in surprise as I said, “We can't.” It sounded like a death sentence. And it probably was one - on our relationship anyway. But she was crying and seeking comfort in me. It would have been the arsehole thing to do to keep going. Had I been guilty of doing that in the past? Oh god yes. But not now. Not with her.
I cupped the back of her neck, not letting her escape. “Talk to me,” I commanded before her walls slid up.
She shook her head so I growled the words like they were one of Ulvic's commands. “Talk. To. Me.”
She clutched my shirt as if I was going to make a run for it, but we both knew it was her that was more likely to bolt. Her eyes were more beautiful to me in that moment than they'd ever been because they were letting me in for once, not shutting me out.
“Please,” I breathed and her body went limp in my arms.
“I don't want to die anymore,” she admitted as if it was a bad thing. Tears spilled over again and I hugged her to my chest, the sight slicing my insides to ribbons.
“And why are you crying about that?” I murmured in her ear, my nose buried unashamedly into her hair.
“Because the others...Marie, Briony-” She choked, clutching onto me so tightly she'd probably have broken bones if I were human. “They're going to wake up and hate themselves. They're going to be like me. They're going to think there's nothing worth living for.”
I held her, waiting for her to go on because hell if I understood what she meant.
“But I didn't know that there was still a chance, that I could still feel.” She leant back, fixing me in those eyes that were surely going to be the death of me. “You showed me that,” she breathed, her lips damp from tears and looking like the most edible thing I'd seen all day.
I tried to swallow the ball in my throat to no avail. “I didn't do anything,” I rasped.
She detached herself from my arms and I was certain she took a chunk of my heart with her, possibly the whole thing.
“You care about me, don't you?” she whispered.
“Of course.” I stepped closer, hoping to close the space between us again. “Only you.” My heart slammed into my throat at the admission. Shit, I was whipped.
The piece of paper Gina had given me chose that moment to work its way out of my pocket and float down between us like a grenade. I knew what it meant, but Cass didn't. And I watched as the shutters slammed in her eyes as she took in the name and number written on it.
She didn't shout at me, or accuse me of lying about my feelings for her or even of sleeping with Gina. She did something much worse. She tsked, as if it was so typical of me that she couldn't even believe she'd bought into my bullshit for half a second.
Before I could try to explain, she'd shot toward the door and was gone in a heartbeat.
Drama. That's what this mission needed. Yeah, like I needed a hole in the head.