Hidden Magic

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Hidden Magic Page 11

by Amy Patrick


  Of course I’d recognize Macy from the back, the side, any angle without even seeing her face. I knew her walk, the way her hair moved around her shoulders. Hell, I’d recognize her without seeing her at all just from the sound of her voice and her laugh. As I’d lain helpless in a forced deep sleep during the past year, every detail about her and the time we’d spent together had become etched into my brain. Maybe it was the bond-mate thing, maybe it was the fact that I was in love with her.

  I watched until my eyes burned and my belly growled with hunger, not even daring to look down at my phone for fear of missing her. None of the short-and-tall couples I spotted were the right one. I fought to control my thoughts, which wandered upstairs to the guest rooms, where Macy might be at this very moment stretched out on a plush-top mattress beside my replacement.

  No. Stop. Don’t go there. Think about something else.

  I wondered how Estelle was doing. Just as I was about to risk a quick text to check her progress, I did see something of interest. Not Macy and Anders—the two Italian hunters.

  Walking through the Venetian lobby, they looked strong and dangerous and very European. They weren’t men I recognized from the castle—these must have been from Alessia’s own household in Rome. Still, I knew they were the men looking for Macy. For one thing, they cornered Lorenzo in the lobby near the concierge desk. In obedience to Estelle’s Sway, he shook his head, looking agitated, and held his palms up to the sides in the universal gesture for I-don’t-know. Good boy.

  Second, I knew Elves when I saw them, and what were the odds of a pair of predatory-looking Ancient Court members just happening to be here at this time if they weren’t the ones who hunted her? I needed to make sure, and once I was sure, I needed to take them out of commission so they couldn’t pursue her any further.

  I went ahead and texted Estelle, instructing her to meet me as soon as possible back at the Venetian. Then, walking directly toward the men, I waited for them to notice me. They did, both reacting simultaneously.

  Once eye contact was established, I broke into a run and raced from the lobby area out onto the casino floor, hoping they’d follow the same way the hunters in Houston had pursued me into the cattle building. People don’t usually run without a good reason. It was clear to these fellows I wasn’t taking my daily exercise. So naturally they assumed I’d already caught up with Macy and was running to her location or running to avoid their questioning. Either way, they were right behind me, which was exactly where I wanted them.

  Finally, nearing a security officer, I stopped and turned around to face them. When one of them drew close enough, I threw a punch then grabbed his shirtfront, holding him in place. Naturally, the scuffle caught the attention of the officer. He charged toward us, speaking into his walkie on the way, calling for backup.

  “What’s going on here?” the human officer demanded as he reached us.

  “Thank God you’re here, officer. I need help. These men attacked my sister today. I want them arrested.”

  The officer looked confused, and the two Elven agents looked even more perplexed.

  “I saw you throw the first punch,” the officer said, sounding suspicious of my story.

  “They were chasing me,” I explained. “I was a witness to the assault.”

  Now both men began protesting loudly in broken English. The security officer looked from them to me and back again, clearly unsure of what they were saying—or what to believe. Several other uniformed officers ran up and looked to him, expecting an explanation.

  “Let’s go to the security office,” I suggested. “I will call my sister, and she can come and tell you what happened. You will see. These men are criminals.” I spat in their direction. “Perverts! Attacking an innocent woman. And at a nice place like this. I would think for the money we’re spending on the Chairman Suite we could expect some safety and peace of mind on the property. You are lucky I don’t kill you with my bare hands.”

  The officers, apparently convinced by my mention of the high-roller suite, if not my theatrics, sprang into action, taking the Ancient Court agents into custody and roughly zip-tying their hands behind them. Together, as if in some comical parade, we all weaved among the casino’s bright and noisy gambling machines and to the security office. Once there, I dialed Estelle.

  “I’m here,” she said, sounding breathless. “At the front entrance. Where are you?”

  “I am in the security office. Walk straight to the back of the casino floor and take a right. You’ll see the sign over the door.” Giving her a preview of our cover story, I added. “I found the men who assaulted you. They were still in the casino today, believe it or not. You will have your justice.”

  There. Now when she showed up, she’d be able to fake an appropriate reaction.

  The “suspects” were placed in two hard chairs against the wall while the rest of us waited for Estelle to arrive. In the meantime, the original officer took a statement from me. A few minutes later, the security office door opened and Estelle came in, wide-eyed.

  “Nic—they got the guys who tried to hurt me?” she wailed. “Where are they?” Then she turned and searched the office. When she spotted the large, obviously Elven men sitting against the wall wearing baleful expressions, she let out a sound of distress and rushed over to me for comfort. “Oh my God. It is them.”

  Good brother that I was, I wrapped my arms around her for comfort. “It’s okay. They can’t hurt you anymore. These brave officers have them in custody.”

  “Ma’am.” One brave officer, who was clearly gob-smacked by Estelle’s beauty, approached her, holding a clipboard. “Would you mind describing to me the nature of the offense these two scumbags committed against you?”

  Her big brown eyes glistened with unspent tears as she sniffled and nodded bravely.

  I had no idea you were such an actress, I told her mind-to-mind. You were walking back from the swimming pool, and they attacked you in the corridor from the pool to the guest elevators.

  “I was walking back from the pool,” she said. “I still had on my bikini, but with a little cover-up, you know?” She drew her hands over her chest in demonstration.

  Every man in the room, except for me and her alleged attackers, stared at Estelle, following every word and no doubt picturing her in that bikini and “little” cover up.

  “They jumped out at me and tried to drag me into a doorway. If Nic hadn't come along behind me, I don’t know what would have happened. I thought I was safe here at this beautiful hotel, but now I’m not sure.”

  Oh, she was laying it on thick, and they were lapping it up like whipped cream.

  “You are, miss. We’ll be on watch day and night to make sure you don’t experience any further problems—and these guys—they’re going to be prosecuted to the extent of the law. The owner of the hotel will make sure of that.”

  “Oh thank you,” she said with a delicate sob, offering hugs to the men, who were nearly slobbering at this point and elbowing each other to take their turns at a hug from the distraught supermodel. “I feel so much better now.”

  “Now wait a minute,” one of the Elven henchmen spoke up in heavily-accented English. “We did not do what this girl said.”

  “We did nothing to her,” the other man chimed in. “We are not even here for her.”

  Estelle whirled toward him, clearly sensing an opening. Walking across the room, she came to a stop right in front of the accused pair. Uh oh.

  I worked to suppress a grin. Sorry boys—you’re about to go down.

  “And why did you come here?” she demanded.

  “To capture a different girl—a small one,” the man answered, helpless against her truth serum glamour.

  The officers in the room tensed noticeably. One of them moved his hand to the weapon strapped to his side. Another one let out a sound very close to a growl. I had no doubt they all interpreted the man’s forced confession to mean he was here seeking a child to kidnap when he mentioned a “small girl.


  “And what did you plan to do with this small girl?” Estelle asked, a very close approximation of horror on her face. She really was quite an actress.

  “Capture her and take her back to Italy,” the guy said matter-of-factly, though his eyes were wild with the effort to control his self-incriminating tongue. “Put her in the dungeon to be drained of her blood.”

  Aaaand our work here is done. These guys wouldn’t be bothering Macy anymore.

  After Estelle had accepted the comfort and protection vows of every last security officer, we made our way back toward the guest room elevators.

  “Laying it on a bit thick, weren’t you, sis?”

  “Did you want them neutralized, or didn’t you?”

  I laughed. “I don’t think they’ll be just neutralized. They may be neutered by the time your badge-wearing fan club is finished with them.”

  She turned to me, her face now serious. “So, the threat to Macy is reduced—that’s two more hunters out of commission. What’s the next step? I had no luck today showing the picture around. No one I spoke to has seen them—at any of the places on the Strip.”

  “Maybe they’re lying low,” I said. Hopefully not too closely together. “I’ll go back to what I’ve been doing all day—watching the elevators. If they’re still here, I’ll spot them eventually.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I may go up and take a nap. That way I can relieve you later and let you get some sleep.”

  “Sounds good,” I said to make her happy.

  I had no intention of dozing in our suite. I was tired, but sleep wasn’t worth missing my chance to see Macy tonight. Of course, I’d been away from my surveillance post near the elevators for close to two hours by now, dealing with the hunters. She might have passed by during the time I was gone. That thought made my chest hurt.

  It was also possible she and Anders had already checked out and left the hotel for a new destination, but I didn’t think so. My bond-mate sense told me she was still here—somewhere. Hopefully it wasn’t all in my mind. As I settled back onto my bench in front of the elevator bank, I prayed it was real—and that it would be enough.

  12

  Macy

  One hour earlier

  It was bath time. Youth hostels typically offered showers but no bathtubs. It surprised me how much I’d missed that creature comfort during the past year and a half, and since I’d started traveling with Anders and staying in hotel rooms, I’d become a little obsessive about having a daily bath.

  Now, after a full day of traipsing around after him, watching him win obscene amounts of chips at casino after casino, I was wiped out and ready for a relaxing soak. He, on the other hand, wasn't nearly ready to stop.

  “You go on up,” he’d said when we returned to the Venetian. “I’ve got a streak going. I’m going to hit the casino here for a bit. If I can win enough tonight, we’ll be set for a long time. You should order some room service,” he suggested. “I’ll bet it’s killer here.”

  Hot and dead on my feet, I nodded my agreement. “Good luck. I’ll order something for you, too.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Get me some sushi,” he said. “It’ll keep in the room fridge.”

  “Okay. If I’m asleep when you get back, wake me up and tell me how it went.”

  “You bet.” He flashed me a smile and headed toward the lights and cacophony of sounds that was the gaming area.

  I walked to the elevator bank and pushed the call button, standing and glancing around at the posh surroundings. What was Anders paying for this place? I hoped he won a lot of money tonight to cover it.

  At my insistence, we’d stayed at mostly moderately-priced hotels after that night in New Orleans. Last night when we’d arrived here, I’d been too tired to protest, but we’d have to cut back on spending for a while to make up for this splurge. Who knew how long we’d be staying on the road together?

  Since learning of the Ancient Court’s pursuit, I hadn’t been able to take on any odd jobs, and I felt funny letting Anders support me. My debt tab to him was getting pretty long at this point.

  As the elevator doors opened, I got the strangest feeling. Instead of getting into the car, I backtracked and wheeled around, looking behind me and scanning in all directions. There was no one else around. Not too many people headed back to their rooms this early in Las Vegas, I guessed. But I’d had the distinct sensation of… a presence.

  Though both Anders and I were always on the lookout for possible Ancient Court agents, this sensation wasn’t a bad one, exactly. It was more like… a melancholy yearning sort of thing. My eyes searched the area one more time, looking for some clue as to why I felt this way.

  There was nothing, just a few other guests stepping onto or out of elevators, a small circular lobby area outside the elevator banks with a snack and newspaper stand, and an empty bench.

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out again, I shook my head at myself and turned back to the elevator doors, pressing the button once again. I was getting weird. It was a wonder Anders wanted anything to do with me, much less wanted to bond himself to me.

  The tub in our room was fabulous, and so was the room service. Because I never did get the lobster I’d threatened to order in New Orleans, I had a selection of shellfish on ice. It was delicious. Even Anders’ sushi, which normally did not interest me at all, looked appetizing. I put the covered container into the mini-refrigerator to keep it fresh for whenever he returned.

  He’d made me ditch my e-reader in Texas because it could possibly be traced, but I’d picked up a paperback at a truck stop on the Nevada border, so I pulled it from my pack and read in bed for a while. The book was funny and well-written and had some pretty darn hot kissing scenes. By the time I set it on the bedside stand and turned out the light over my shoulder, I was actually a little eager for Anders to return.

  He was a good kisser. There was no denying it. It was empirically true. The two previous times we’d kissed, it hadn’t felt like kissing Nic. But still, the close physical contact was nice—pleasant and comforting. I hoped, since we’d decided to go ahead and pull the trigger on this bonding thing, that someday it would be more than that.

  But it was only a small hope. I needed to learn to be happy with what I had instead of wishing for what I could never have again. Nic.

  Some time later, I woke to the sensation of raindrops falling on my skin. No, it wasn’t rain—it was flower petals… or maybe…

  My eyes opened, and there was Anders’ face, smiling above me. He was standing on the bed, his arms outstretched, and he was dropping money on me in a steady sprinkle of green, floaty paper.

  “Why is it raining dollar bills?” I asked in a sleepy slur.

  He grinned wider. “Those aren’t dollars, baby. Get the sleep out of your eyes and check again.”

  Coming to alertness, I plucked one of the bills out of the air and brought it close to my eyes. Eyes that threatened to pop right out of my head once they saw the denomination. I sat up straight, the sudden motion bouncing the mattress and causing Anders to brace himself against the wobble.

  “Is this… is this real money?” I asked.

  He laughed loudly. “It is.”

  “Anders. This is a one hundred dollar bill.”

  He laughed again and nodded. “It is.”

  “Oh my God.” Scooping handfuls of the paper money covering the white comforter, I looked at them closely. “They’re all hundred-dollar bills.”

  Anders kicked his feet out and plopped down on the bed beside me then stretched out with his hands behind his head.

  “They. Are.” He looked over at me and raised a brow. “What do you think?”

  For a moment I shook my head at him, staring in awe. “I think… I think you’re amazing. And I think they’re going to kick us out of Las Vegas.”

  Now he waggled both brows. “Well then… we’d better enjoy it while we can.” Without any further prelude, he rolled toward me and slid a hand around the back of my head,
pulling my face to his.

  For some reason the kiss surprised me. It wasn't our first—but it wasn’t like our first kiss, either. That one had seemed like sort of an accident, like it had surprised him as much as me. This one was purposeful, planned, and executed with confidence. And this time we weren’t in a crowded stadium surrounded by thousands of other people. We were in a hotel room—alone—in bed.

  This time, Anders had abandoned that sense of caution he always seemed to wear around himself like a bulletproof vest. When I didn’t stop him or pull away, he deepened the kiss and pulled me closer, causing our bodies to align, almost touching but not quite thanks to the bedding—and money—still covering my legs and abdomen.

  His chest rumbled with a sound of satisfaction, and his hand slid from my nape over my shoulder and down my back to my waist and hip.

  “You taste good,” he murmured. “And you smell incredible.”

  He smelled like cigarette smoke—unavoidable in this city of constant second-hand exposure—but underneath that, there was the alluring fragrance I always detected when I was near him. Beachy and fresh, it was like sunshine you could smell. And it was nice.

  His hands felt nice, his mouth, too. I started waking up—in more ways than one. For the first time since losing Nic, I started thinking I might actually be able to move on—at least in a physical way. This… thing with Anders was a sweet distraction. And he was sweet. Sweet, and loyal, and fun, and yes… sexy. He was also eager to move things to the next level based on the way his hands were roaming.

  My heart raced with equal parts excitement and panic. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this. Yes, we’d discussed upgrading, but here in the actual moment it felt like maybe there should be more discussing. Instead, Anders shifted so he was over me, the hard weight of his lower body pressing me into the soft mattress. It felt good. And terrifying.

  Oh God. I’m not ready. Am I? Maybe. Yes. No. No, I’m not ready.

  I turned my head to break the contact with Anders’ mouth. He took it as an invitation to apply kisses to my neck instead.

 

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