“I’m fine thanks,” I said, sardonically, considering the fact that his powers were keeping me from being able to even move an inch, plus I would rather court death than let him touch me.
“Suit yourself,” he replied with a shrug of indifference, and he eased back into his chair, still continuing with his unsettling stare.
I watched out the window, and I could see we appeared to be approaching a large metropolitan area.
The plane slowly began to get lower in the air as we traveled along, and I could finally make out the large runways at the airport we were approaching, which looked to be one of major size, perhaps an international one.
The closer we got, the better I was able to make out shapes of buildings in the surrounding area of the airport. I concentrated on them hard, trying to make out anything which might give me some sort of clue as to where I was.
Suddenly some of the distinctly shaped structures caught my attention, and I realized right away that I recognized them. They were lines of casinos, running side by side down a long strip of road, as well as more than a few others that dotted the landscape spreading out around them.
I knew exactly where I was.
“Welcome to Las Vegas!” Damien said, with a smile.
We were in Nevada.
Chapter 21
The small aircraft touched down easily, not even making a bump, as the wheels came in contact with the solid ground beneath us. We taxied down the runway until we turned off on another access road and moved toward a large row of hangars, which were off on the far side of the massive space.
We passed by several of the large buildings, all of them closed, before I finally saw one that was standing open in the middle of the long row. The plane glided into it easily, and the large hangar doors were closed behind us.
I sat quietly, with Damien, while the engine was shut down. The pilot made an appearance to visit with Damien and find out if the flight had been to his satisfaction, while the attendant brought him a briefcase.
When they were finished speaking with Damien, the two of them went over to the door, opened it and lowered the stairs down to the hangar floor.
At this point, a couple of men in dark suits boarded the plane.
“It’s time to go,” Damien said as he looked over at me, and suddenly I was released from my magical holdings.
I had been waiting for the possibility of this moment, and the instant I felt myself freed I flung my arm out him, sending several ice shards in a row from my hand, speeding out toward him.
He quickly waved his hand to the side, and the weapons were redirected away from him, landing in the chest of one of the men who had just boarded.
The man looked down with a grunt in surprise at the grouping of shards protruding from his chest and fell over dead.
Damien shook his head at me, as if completely dismayed by my behavior.
“Portia, Portia,” he said in that patronizing voice of his, “look what you’ve done! You’ve killed poor Michael. What did he ever do to you?” He made a clicking sound with his tongue while shaking his finger at me.
“I didn’t do anything to him,” I replied, standing from the chair that had been my previous prison, to confront him. “You did.”
“Well, if that’s the way you need to see it so you can feel better about yourself …,” he said trailing off in mock horror, as he got to his feet, standing across from me.
It was the first time I had noticed that he was actually a little taller than Vance was, by at least a couple of inches, which just served to make him look all the more imposing.
“Take her,” Damien said, ordering the one man still standing there next to his dead accomplice.
“Don’t touch me!” I shouted at him as he approached, raising my hand threateningly at him, and he paused slightly to look over at Damien with a questioning glance.
“If you’d just come easily and quit provoking everyone, he wouldn’t have to touch you.” Damien said in exasperation, as if this were the most apparent thing in the world for anyone to understand. “You have to know I’m completely prepared for you. There’s no way I would’ve allowed you from your restraints otherwise. Now be a good girl and get a move on!” He nodded his head curtly in the direction of the door.
I looked at him for a minute as I weighed the situation, wishing I could wipe his smug, self-assured look off his face, before giving a sigh of defeat and brushing passed him to exit the plane.
I noticed the waiting black limousine immediately when I stepped through the doorway. Its windows were tinted so darkly that there was no hope of anyone seeing me inside, even if I were to lean up against the glass and pound on it. I paused, as I looked at the sleek car, knowing now I was just being transferred, moving from one prison to another.
The driver was standing, smartly uniformed and ramrod straight, at the door, holding it open, waiting for us to enter the vehicle.
“Move along,” Damien said from behind me, prodding me forward with the sound of his voice at my back, and I continued to make my way down the steps toward the waiting vehicle.
I stopped at the bottom of the stairs just to be annoying, pretending I didn’t know where to go, as I looked around with a perplexed gaze.
“Get in the car, Portia,” Damien said brusquely, not appreciating or even remotely falling for my little act.
I gave a frustrated sigh and walked over to the vehicle to climb into it. Under any other circumstance, I probably would have enjoyed going for a ride in a stretch limousine. Today, however, was not one of those days.
Damien followed me in, along with the other suited man, while the driver closed the door and hurried back around to the front of the vehicle.
I scooted to the opposite seat that ran down the side of the limousine, so I wasn’t sitting next to either of them, earning myself an irritated glance from Damien in the process. I gave him a little half sneer in return, just to goad him a little bit more, knowing it wasn’t the wisest course of action but unable to keep myself from doing so.
“Is everything ready?” Damien asked, turning to the man sitting next to him, once the car was in motion.
“Yes, sir,” the man replied, nodding his head once. “Things are just as you requested.”
“Good,” Damien said, and his gaze returned back to me then, the self-satisfactory look moving back into place.
“So where, pray tell, are we off to now?” I asked, trying not to sound too curious but feeling it was important to try and gain as much information as I could about where he might be taking me.
“Why, to my place, of course,” he responded, and the limo moved out of the hangar, driving into the bright desert sunshine outside.
“Just how many ‘places’ do you have exactly?” I asked, thinking back to the big spacious house he had recently occupied in Mexico.
“Several,” he replied, casually. “I like to have the comforts of home when I travel.”
This comment confirmed what I already had decided. He must have huge monetary resources. The fact that Vance’s trust fund had been so large when his mom had run with him had suggested that Damien had a lot of money. He could probably buy anyone or anything he wanted.
That certainly wasn’t going to help any of the odds against Vance and me at all. Lots of people could be persuaded to turn a blind eye toward things for the right amount of cash. Money could definitely talk.
I closed my eyes, trying to relax, as I searched my mind for any mental connection to Vance. I didn’t really think I would find one, but I needed to look for him as I was feeling completely alone and vulnerable at the moment. There was nothing, of course, just as I had expected.
The car moved out onto the surface streets, and I noticed we were beginning to make our way over toward the strip of hotels and casinos Las Vegas was so famous for.
At this point the suited man moved over to sit next to me. I leaned away from him cautiously as he popped open the briefcase I had seen Damien carry off the plane with him.
<
br /> “I’m sorry, Portia, but it’s time to go back to sleep now,” Damien said, and I looked back at him for a moment in confusion, just before turning back to see the large hypodermic needle in the hand of the man next to me.
I didn’t have time to react as I felt the sting in my neck again and all went dark once more.
When I awoke, at what appeared to be several hours later, it was to find myself lying comfortably on an extremely luxurious bed, the likes of which I had never lain on in my entire life.
I shifted against the soft fabrics as I looked around and tried to get my fuzzy brain to connect with its surroundings.
There was a large wooden canopy overhead with sheer curtain panels that hung down the sides. A beautiful imported silk duvet covered the bed, which was loaded with massive amounts of throw pillows of all sizes and varieties.
Sitting up slowly, I examined the Edwardian styled room with its rich custom-made furnishings. Everything was in a soothing pallet, decorated in shades of cream and gold.
My gaze ran over the fancy lamp at the bedside as I turned to look at the nightstand.
No phone. Not that I was really surprised about that.
Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, I crawled down onto the floor, so I could look under the end table, searching for a phone connection. Even the actual phone jack had been removed, leaving a bare spot in the wall where it had previously been.
Damien was thorough at least, I thought.
Getting up from the floor, I looked around the room, my eyes resting on a closed door on the other side of the bed. I moved over to the door and opened it, revealing a huge walk-in closet that contained many articles of clothing. Upon closer perusal of things, I discovered everything in here was my exact size.
While I found it a little creepy that all these items had been placed here for my use, I figured it was probably a good thing since it meant Damien must be planning on keeping me around for a while, versus the possible alternative.
I walked out of the closet and over to another door, not far from the one I had just left. This one led to a large bathroom, complete with a giant whirlpool tub.
The vanity had been fully stocked also. There was a complete cosmetic line in the shades appropriate for my skin tone as well as lotions, deodorants, shampoos, and all other hair care products a girl could possibly need. It could have almost been exciting to see all this stuff if one didn’t know one was vacationing with one’s own personal Satan in the middle of Hell.
Leaving the bathroom, I walked over to the large picture window against the far wall and pulled the shades back so I could look out.
I wasn’t familiar enough with the strip to know exactly which hotel we were in, but I could easily tell we must be in the penthouse suite of the tower of a resort, as I was standing at the highest possible point of the building.
The strip glittered like a many faceted jewel below me, as it was now dark and all the exterior lights were on. I could see cars and people moving about on the street below, though I doubted I would be able to get anyone’s attention from this staggering height.
There was, however, a large balcony outside a set of double French doors that led to it. Perhaps I might be able to get someone to notice me from out there. I went to the doors and tried to open them, but I couldn’t get out. The doors were firmly secured, completely unmovable, almost as if they had been welded shut.
I tried magically forcing the lock, but it didn’t budge an inch. I gave up after a few moments. It wasn’t actually realistic to think I would be getting any help from that direction anyway. Even if I did get someone’s attention, Damien would hear me and whisk me away before anyone would be able to find me.
I turned back to the room then and rummaged through drawers in the desk, dressers, and nightstands, looking for anything that could help me out or be used as a weapon of some sort, in case I needed it.
I even went over and rubbed my hands over the marble fireplace mantel to see if I could find any good places to hide something if the need were to arise.
Of course, the fireplace was gas, so that ruled out a chimney as a possible means of escape.
I was just getting up off my hands and knees when I heard a slight rattling sound at the door to my room. I whipped around quickly, bracing myself to react to whatever might be coming through it.
The door swung open, and a maid clad in full uniform entered the room, carrying a large tray of food which smelled absolutely delicious. I realized in that moment that I was starving, having not had anything to eat all day.
My appetite was soon dampened, however, as Damien followed into the room shortly behind her. He was dressed to the nines, which was the only way I had ever seen him dressed, now that I thought about it. If it weren’t for a hardness that glinted off the planes of his face, I would have almost called him good looking.
The maid didn’t even glance at me as she carried the tray over to the sitting area and placed it down on the beautiful cherry wood coffee table, which was flanked by two chairs.
Damien moved across the room and sat down in one of the chairs, making himself comfortable, as he looked over at me.
“This is Darcy,” he said, motioning to the pretty, petite woman. “She’s been told that you’re a guest who’ll be staying here with us for a while. If you ever need anything at all, she’s been instructed to see to your every need. All you have to do is ask.”
“Perfect!” I replied, clasping my hands together in exaggerated enthusiasm over his remarks, before I stepped up in front the maid, my tone turning serious. “Darcy, could you have the car sent around, please?” I asked very politely. “I need to catch a flight to Phoenix as soon as possible. If you could call ahead while I’m on my way to the airport, I’d appreciate it. Just make sure I get a good seat on the plane. First class would be preferable, if you don’t mind. It shouldn’t be too hard as it appears Damien can afford it.”
Darcy looked confused toward me at first and then swung her head to look back toward Damien, as if she wasn’t exactly sure about what she should do with my peculiar request.
Damien started laughing out loud, as he shook his head slightly from side to side at the perplexed maid.
“You’re dismissed, Darcy,” he said, waving his hand at her without taking his gaze away from me.
Darcy gave him a curt nod of her head and left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Maybe I should amend my statement,” he replied. “She’s to see to your every wish that doesn’t interfere with any of mine. You might want to know that Darcy is a demon witch. I supply her with all of her blood, so there’s no chance she’ll be persuaded to assist you with anything that goes against my designs. She would sooner be persuaded to kill you than to help you get away,” he said, as he watched me. “But, before you get any bright ideas about that, let me assure you that she’s been threatened with her own demise if she were to even touch you in any way which might bring you harm.”
I just stared at him, not replying, wishing he couldn’t read my thoughts as easily as he did.
“Come have a seat,” he said in an almost friendly sounding tone as he gestured to the chair next to him.
I eyed him for a moment before I walked over and sat down, trying to show bravado I didn’t really feel.
“So, how do you like your accommodations?” he asked me with a smile, his gaze never leaving my face, making me feel nervous about how he was always watching me so closely.
“Looks like a prison cell to me,” I replied as I glanced about, feigning disinterest for the fabulous suite.
He was every bit the actor I was, as he then pretended to be completely distraught over my answer.
“Portia, you have no idea how that offends me! I’ve gone to every length to make your stay here as comfortable as possible. After all, you’re my future daughter-in-law,” he replied, his gaze dropping obviously to the diamond ring that still graced my finger.
I didn’t say anything, feeling a little sick
over the whole daughter-in-law comment, realizing it was completely true and this monster would indeed be my father-in-law if Vance and I were to marry as we planned.
“We’re like family, you and I,” he continued, his voice sickeningly sweet, as it dripped in eloquent tones through that patronizing smile of his. He continued on. “I’ve made arrangements for you to have run of the entire penthouse. You may go anywhere you choose in here, and your every need will be catered to.” He waved a hand like a magician at the food on the table.
“Well, that’s good to know, because I need to go home,” I said, emphasizing the word “need.”
“You know I can’t do that. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d want to. I’m finding your companionship quite enjoyable.” He smiled at me as he crossed his legs then, placing his hands in his lap, and continuing his unnerving stare, purposely trying to make me feel uncomfortable.
“In that case would you care to join me for dinner? Or is it specially poisoned for my particular pallet?” I asked sarcastically, as I gestured toward the food on the silver serving tray in front of us.
“I would never poison your food,” he replied, reaching out to take a grape off the tray and pop it into his mouth. “I pay a lot for my famous chef. I wouldn’t dream of defiling his food.”
“And which famous chef would that be?” I asked, wondering how one might go about finding someone who caters for demons.
“No one you’re familiar with,” he replied in dismissal of my question. “But I’m sure you’ll enjoy his creations just the same.”
“I don’t know,” I said skeptically. “I tend to be more of a peanut butter and jelly kind of girl.”
“I understand completely. It’s so easy to find a taste which one tends to prefer over all else.” He agreed with a nod. “However, my tastes tend to run more to the liquid variety.”
His eyes flashed red for a second as he smiled at me, emphasizing his meaning, before fading back to their natural color.
“Whatever floats your boat,” I said, rolling my eyes at him, while reaching for a cold cut slice of meat and stuffing it all into my mouth at once, trying not to let him think his little display had affected me at all.
Of Witches and Warlocks: The Demon Kiss Page 23