Great Hexpectations, A Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy (Dulcie O'Neil Series #3)

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Great Hexpectations, A Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy (Dulcie O'Neil Series #3) Page 12

by H. P. Mallory


  Bram turned around and faced me, wearing an expression of determination as his gaze settled on my wings. He walked me over to a bench and released my arm. “Grip this, sweet, so you do not fly away. I shall return momentarily.”

  I’d almost forgotten about my idiotic wings which, as soon as I remembered them, started beating frantically again. I grabbed hold of one of the wooden slats in the seat bench and begrudgingly gave Bram a nod to say I was fastened down and wasn’t about to go sailing off somewhere. I did notice a few glances my way, mostly starting out as curious, probably because I was clinging to the seat like it was a life rope. Soon the expressions of curiosity dovetailed into that haunted, hungry look I’d witnessed earlier.

  This was freaking unbelievable…

  The faster I could get out of Dodge, the better. Course, depending on how the situation unraveled, I might be spending a lot more time in the Netherworld than I’d ever hoped or planned for. And that thought caused me an undue level of depression. I had to remind myself that, really, my punishment shouldn’t be much more than a smack on the hand.

  Bram waved down a cab, this one a bright yellow and shaped like a mushroom. Actually, it sort of looked like an English taxi. As soon as the crowd began to descend on the cab, Bram hissed at them with his fangs displayed and they backed away. Apparently, vampires were among the higher orders in the Netherworld.

  “Come, Dulcie,” he called out, his tone implying the fact that I’d better hurry the hell up about it.

  I took a deep breath, images of myself floating away while a big bat-like creature crunched me in its jaws, played through my head. But I managed to let go and bee-lined for the cab, my feet lifting in the air as I did so.

  “Bram!” I screamed as I searched, in vain, for something to anchor myself to.

  He glanced around him, at the crowd who was coming ever closer to stealing the cab but apparently realizing I was about to have a lot in common with a runaway balloon, lurched for me, grabbing me by the waist and, in a vampire split second, dragged us both into the cab, slamming the door behind us. Then we were off. I could only hope our luggage had also made the transition.

  “Our bags?” I started.

  “In the back,” Bram finished and began smoothing down his shirt, as if it had gotten wrinkled in the process of him securing me and then the cab.

  “Where to?” The cab driver asked, glancing over at us. He was an elf but had nothing in common with Quillan. Where Quill had golden curls and hazel eyes, a killer smile and an athletic, lean body, this guy looked more like Jabba The Hut.

  “The Grosvenor Hotel,” Bram ordered and then leaned back into the seat beside me, exhaling. It was all put on, of course, because Bram couldn’t breathe. As a vampire, he had no respiratory system so it was all for show—merely to illustrate the point that the last ten minutes had been anything but relaxing.

  “Sounds nice,” I said with a nervous smile. I hadn’t exactly detailed who would be paying for this little trip but due to the fact that Bram was here to protect me, I had to imagine the financing would be solely mine.

  “Quite so, my dear,” Bram said as he began inspecting his nails. “When forced to travel, it is important to do so in luxury, with the utmost comfort in mind. Spare no detail, spare no expense.”

  Great. This was going to cost a freaking fortune. I didn’t say anything though; Bram had taken care of the arrangements. It’s not like I’d volunteered. “What currency?” I started, suddenly panicking that I hadn’t taken the time to convert dollars into…whatever the hell they used here. Come to think of it, I’d been in such a rush to leave, I hadn’t put any thought into any part of the traveling logistics.

  “The same currency we use, sweet,” Bram answered with a smile that said he was very pleased with himself since he was on top of things and I wasn’t.

  I also breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back into my seat, hoping this cab ride wasn’t going to cost me a fortune. More importantly, I was hopeful Mr. Jabba the Elf would accept Visa because I rarely ever carried cash. Actually, the last time I checked the misery known as my wallet, I had two dollars.

  Great.

  “Relax and enjoy the ride, folks,” our driver said. I didn’t miss his lustful glance through the rear view mirror. Good thing I was wearing jeans because he was staring right at my lap. Thinking I’d rather focus on the scenery as it passed by my window, I glanced outside, eyeing the row of five square, large buildings, maybe ten floors in each. These also looked as if they were constructed in the seventies.

  “What city is this?” I asked the driver, suddenly wondering if the Netherworld was broken into cities.

  His brows drew together as if I were stupid for asking and then that expression of lust was right back in his eyes. “Splendor.”

  Hmm, so there was a Splendor, Netherworld just as there was a Splendor, California. Interesting. But this version of Splendor really had nothing in common with the Splendor I knew so well. Aside from the few buildings in what I assumed was the city center, we passed by, maybe, five streets with houses, which also looked like they were built in the seventies. But other than those few croppings of civilization, the rest of Splendor Netherworld was completely untamed wilderness—just rolling hills with only bushes and trees to punctuate the landscape. Not that I could really see any of the bushes or trees because it was dark outside; the few street lamps offered only slivers of light.

  “So was that the headquarters of the ANC in the Netherworld?” I whispered to Bram, not wanting the elf to eavesdrop on our conversation. ANC business needed to remain just that, ANC business. Course, the driver was probably more than cognizant of where the ANC headquarters was. It’s not like it was a big secret or anything.

  “It is, sweet,” Bram answered as he patted my thigh. I started to remove his hand but he made a tsking sort of noise at me. “Demand number three: I am free to touch you whenever and wherever I like and as many times as it pleases me with the post script offered by you that my touch must remain above your clothing.”

  I just frowned. He had me.

  “Besides, sweet, you do not want to destroy the cover story I so artfully created?”

  “That I’m your intended?” I threw it back at him, suddenly feeling irritable with this whole situation. Most of my irritation was reserved for the wings that were completely spastic and useless; and my not being able to control them was exasperating. If that weren’t enough to shove my day into a tailspin, it seemed everyone wanted to bang me and that still wasn’t even the worst of it. I was at risk of getting gobbled up at any second by gigantic flying rodents. That was the worst of it.

  “That would be the one,” he said and squeezed my thigh as if to say there was nothing I could do about it.

  I glanced outside my window again, wondering when the hell we were going to reach the hotel. It was so dark outside, I could see nothing and now there were no streetlamps at all, just silver signposts every few miles, reflected by our headlights. I couldn’t make out what the signs said until we slowed down to make a right hand turn. I glanced at the signpost and read:

  If you experience a breakdown, stay in your automobile at all times.

  There was a silhouette of some hideous flying thing just above the warning so I had to imagine this was prime hunting ground for whatever stalked the skies.

  Great.

  I faced Bram and frowned. “You know, you could have prepared me a little bit more for all this.”

  He shrugged, his hand still on my thigh. Thank god I was wearing sweats. “Time was of the essence, sweet.”

  “Yes it was but you could have told me more than you did. You work according to your own rules, Bram.” I hadn’t meant for my tone to sound so whiney but there it was.

  “I cannot argue that, my dear.”

  He didn’t have to because the cab suddenly slowed and I glanced out my window to find what appeared to be a chateau before us—over four stories tall and complete with a stone façade, huge double wooden doors,
gargoyles and turrets. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

  “Let me guess, this is The Grosvenor?” I grumbled.

  Bram smiled. “It appears not to have altered in the one hundred years I have been away.”

  “Yep, it’s the same old, weird place,” the elf said and then turned around to face us, obviously expecting to be paid. “That’ll be five hundred.”

  “What?!” I barked. “Five hundred dollars?”

  “I’m not talking pesos or rubles, honey,” the elf snapped back.

  Five hundred dollars for a cab ride? That was just ridiculous and furthermore, I didn’t think I had five hundred dollars in my checking account.

  “Do not concern yourself, sweet,” Bram said as he pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills. All of them were crisp. Why did I have the feeling he hadn’t acquired them by honorable means? He peeled off five bills and handed them to the elf who just nodded and folded them, putting them in his pocket. Guess tipping wasn’t practiced in the Netherworld. Course, a cab ride at five hundred dollars swallowed up any tip I was ever going to offer, Netherworld or not.

  “Go quick so one of those flyin’ sons of bitches don’t get ya,” he warned and then rolled down his window to spit out a huge loogey.

  Bram glanced at him in disgust and then opened his door, scanning the skies as he did so. Apparently finding the coast clear, he looked at me. “Stay here, sweet, until I return for you.”

  No argument there… I stayed put and watched him walk to the rear of the cab and open the trunk, pulling out our bags. Then I glanced at the elf driver with a frown.

  “Aren’t you supposed to help with those?”

  “No way in hell,” he shrugged. “I don’t get paid enough to risk my life for bags.”

  That was arguable but I stayed silent, watching Bram check the skies again as he hurried to the shelter of the hotel and a bellhop met him at the entrance, taking our luggage inside. Bram then darted back out to the cab with the aid of his vampire speed and opened the door, leaning in.

  “Come, sweet,” he said as he ushered me forward. My wings started beating like the tail of a dog excited to go on a walk. I fell into his outstretched arms and looping mine around his neck, allowed him to escort me into the hotel, while I scoured the skies, looking for anything that had claws, wings or a mouth.

  Apparently, the flying monster squad wasn’t out tonight because we safely made it to the hotel and Bram set me on the ground, grabbing my hand to keep me from flying away.

  “Good evening, Mr…” the doorman’s voice trailed away as he glanced at the clipboard in his hand, obviously having forgotten Bram’s name.

  “Bram,” the dapper vampire finished for him.

  “Mr. Bram and his lovely lady guest,” he said, glancing at me. His expression turned to hunger in, oh, three seconds flat. He was a goblin—I could tell by the slight itch in my hand but what section of the gobelinus tree was anyone’s guess. I hadn’t come across his ilk before.

  “Thanks,” I said with a hurried smile.

  “Please allow me to escort you to check-in,” he continued and bowed like we were royalty or something, facing us as he walked backwards and led us to the front desk. Behind it, a mermaid was acting as desk attendant. This time, I didn’t need my super powers of creature detection to realize she was a mermaid. Her fish tail was obvious enough—along with the four foot makeshift water tank she was comfortably submerged in.

  “Welcome to the Grosvenor, are you here to check in?” she asked in a voice that sounded artificially high—like a dolphin’s. That was the only similarity between a dolphin and this legend of the sea. The mermaid was beautiful with curly platinum blonde hair that reached her waist, huge blue eyes and tan skin. I glanced at Bram, only to find he was wholly fixated on her chest which was, so typically, was covered with two clam shells. The clam shells really only covered her nipples because her breasts were easily the largest I’d ever seen—like Es bordering on Fs, if those were even legitimate sizes.

  “Um, Bram, hello,” I said, sounding every inch the jealous girlfriend or… intended. Sigh.

  The bimbo mermaid just giggled when she realized Bram couldn’t unfasten his eyes from her boulders.

  “Apologies, miss,” Bram said with a practiced smile. He was smooth, I’d give him that. Bram was the type of guy, or vampire, that never wanted for a bed buddy and watching him carry on with this woman illustrated why. He didn’t falter—he was just pure confidence with a handsome face in an expensive suit.

  The mermaid just giggled again in that horrible high-pitched sonar-like voice and Bram smiled more deeply, this time with fangs, like he was showing off. That was when I got pissed off. I wasn’t jealous but I was tired, nervous and… damn it all… sailing off again.

  “Bram, honey, can we hurry this up?” I asked, gripping my stomach, enjoying the fact that I was about to put the kibosh on his little flirtation. “Oh, I think I felt the baby move.”

  The mermaid silenced her giggle immediately and turned to what appeared to be her list of available rooms. Bram chuckled and shook his head, looking embarrassed if it were even possible for a vampire to look embarrassed. Then he glanced down at me with the look of death in his eyes. I just shrugged.

  Hey, I wasn’t interested in watching Bram get his flirt on.

  “The only available room is on our fifth floor,” the mermaid said. “It is a king bed.” Then she glanced at me as if to ask if we intended on sharing the same bed. According to Bram’s list of demands, we did.

  Bram smiled. “Wonderful.” Then, before I could go through freak out episode number two, regarding the price of the room, he propped his credit card on the counter. I promised myself I’d pay him back later.

  “Do you have any preference as to dinner?” The mermaid asked, completely ignoring me and focusing all her attention on Bram again, as if she hadn’t given up.

  “What are our choices, my sweet?” he asked, his tone so sickening sweet, I was pretty sure I threw up a little in my mouth.

  The mermaid leaned forward against the desk, propping her breasts up against the counter until it looked like her head was in danger of being suffocated. “I’m sure I can arrange for whatever… tickles your fancy.”

  “How about sushi?” I interrupted and then laughed acidly. I mean, come on, that had been a good one.

  Both Bram and the mermaid frowned at me but Bram realized that I wasn’t in the mood to play third wheel. He sighed and accepted the key to our room, saying thank you as we started towards the grand staircase that dominated the lobby.

  “I do not understand women,” Bram said and he didn’t sound happy.

  “Why’s that?” I asked but my mind was only partially on the conversation. Instead, the majority of my attention was riveted by the opulence of the lobby. The ceilings must have been thirty feet high, with ornate crown molding delineating the walls from the ceiling. In the center of the room was a chandelier the width of my living room and along each of the walls was a mural of the Greek or Roman gods. I recognized Venus and Diana, the huntress but that was about it. The flooring was a dark, rich cherry or maybe mahogany, covered with expensive rugs.

  “You rebuff my advances at every turn and yet when faced with the possibility of competition, you are most eager to destroy any opportunities I might have.”

  Ugh, he was miffed about Flipper. Really? “Bram, we’re here for business and that should be our focus.” I faced him and it didn’t appear he was buying the whole business vs. pleasure argument. “Besides, she’s a mermaid, Bram. Does she even have the right… gear?”

  “Gear?”

  “Looked like all that was down there was a tail.”

  Bram threw his head back and chuckled heartily. “I had not considered that, sweet.”

  “See, I did you a favor.”

  “So you did, sweet, so you did,” he said as we reached the fifth floor and unlocked our room door. I glanced down the hallway to find the bellhop with both of our bags. They
were quick, I’d give them that. Then I took a deep breath as I faced the room that Bram and I were to share for the next Hades only knew how long.

  Nine

  It felt like maybe I was having a panic attack. My heart pounded in my chest and I was finding it difficult to breathe, my breaths coming in short, shallow spurts. It all began as soon as I thought about my mission to march up to the front desk of the ANC Headquarters and announce the fact that I was the perp involved in a crime.

  And I’d already had my opportunity, already had my chance to get this off my chest. It would have been so easy, so quick and I would have spared myself all this anxiety, which in a word, sucked. But, no, Bram insisted I needed a plan.

  I sat down on the king-sized bed I would share with Bram, draped with a horrible pink, green and blue plaid coverlet that looked vintage 1962. It matched the floor to ceiling curtains, which framed the only window in our room; and the pink of the curtains was the exact shade of the shag carpeting. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the hideous carpeting, comparing the antiqued pink to some shade I’d seen before in an attempt to calm myself down. “I thought you said this hotel was really nice,” I grumbled, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

  Bram smiled down at me. “I also recall expressing the idea that the Netherworld is quite behind the times.”

  Yeah, so he had. Not that it mattered to me anyhow. What mattered now was trying to catch my breath and breathe normally. Holding my head in my hands, I leaned over and put it between my knees, trying to stop myself from fainting.

  “What is the problem, my dear?” The golden-skinned vampire asked me. I glanced up at him and felt like laughing because he was trying his best to look concerned. It wasn’t an emotion that suited him at all, mainly because it wasn’t real. Bram just wasn’t concerned about other people, period.

  “You should have let me take care of my business at ANC Headquarters, Bram. That’s what I’m here for. The longer we wait, the more time we waste, and who the hell knows what is happening to Knight.” My voice sounded like I was on the verge of completely losing it, which was fitting because it was probably true.

 

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