by Jane Jamison
“Get here as fast you can.”
“Why? What’s wrong? Is she okay?”
He didn’t have time to explain. “She’s fine for now.” He glanced around, all too aware of the activity as more and more people found out about the killing. “A Dradian saw her with the bracelet.”
Chapter Eight
“Do you think I should tell Dalton about Roman? And Roman about Dalton? I mean that I’ve been with both of them?” Peyton took another look at her outfit. After Roman’s call, she’d taken more time than usual getting ready.
Shirley giggled as she typed in another text. She’d been on her phone constantly. “What? I guess so. I mean wouldn’t you want to know? It’s not like either of them has said anything about being exclusive.”
“I’m yours. Be mine.” Dalton’s words gave her the good kind of chills. “Sort of.”
At last, Shirley looked up from her phone. “Really? Who? Both?”
“Dalton. But maybe it was just something he said. You know. During the throes of passion and all that.” She made it sound more dramatic, less likely to be real, but it felt all too real.
“Then you really should tell Roman.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She sighed, wanting the fun of having two men romance her to last. “Besides, we’re heading home in a few days, anyway.”
“Yeah.” Shirley sounded as sad as she did as she lowered her gaze back to her phone.
“Who have you been texting all this time?” She plopped onto the bed next to her friend. “Did you meet someone and didn’t tell me?”
“You haven’t been around much to tell.”
A pang of guilt hit Peyton, but it was swept away by Shirley’s happy expression. “Who is it?”
Shirley turned the phone toward her so she could see the screen. Several texts quickly told the story.
“You hooked up with Martin? Dalton’s driver?”
“I sure did. Hey, he may not be a multi-billionaire like your men, but he’s a great guy.”
Peyton hugged her friend. “You don’t have to sell me on him. If you like him, then he has to be a good person. This is great. Maybe we could double date.”
“Don’t you mean triple date? Or whatever it’s called with you and two guys.”
Shirley was right. Dating two men, hell, sleeping with two men was complicated. She owed it to both of them to tell them the truth. The room phone rang, jarring her attention away from Shirley.
“Yes?”
“I just got off the elevator. Are you ready for a day of gambling? You’re wearing our lucky bracelet, right?”
“Yes.” She still wasn’t sure why, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it off. “I’m headed to the door right now.” Taking a quick look at her friend, she added, “Would you mind if Shirley came along?”
His hesitation wasn’t unexpected. “Sure.”
“No thanks.” Shirley waved her phone at her. “I’m meeting Martin in a little while.”
Peyton waved back. “Never mind. Roman? Are you still there?” She opened the door to find him standing there.
“Come on, baby, we’ve got money to win.”
* * * *
Two hours later, Peyton was sure she’d lost more than a thousand dollars. Her stomach was in knots, and perspiration dotted her hairline. “I’m finished.”
“Why?” Roman leaned closer, his palm sliding from her shoulders to the small of her back.
The roulette wheel seemed to be laughing at her. “Roman, I’ve lost every time. I think my luck is gone. I can’t keep throwing your money away. Either I stop or I’m going to hurl.”
He chuckled until he saw how serious she was. “Peyton, don’t worry about it.” He moved another stack of chips onto the board to bet again. “I’m winning as much or more than you’re losing. From what I can tell, we’re breaking even. So it’s all good, see?”
“I guess. But I’m going to sit out for a few rounds. If nothing else, it’ll give my heart a break.”
“Whatever you want. Would you rather we do something else? Maybe get out of the casino?”
“No, it’s fine. I am having fun.” She liked watching him gamble. He never lost his cool and always rejoiced and tipped the employees whenever he won.
The roulette wheel spun again. And again, Roman scooped in the chips. At least now they might be getting ahead.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room.” She was surprised when he slid off his stool, too.
“Give me a minute to cash out, and I’ll go with you.”
“I think I can make it on my own.” He’d stuck by her side throughout the day. “Sometimes I get the impression that you’re guarding me.”
“Nah. I’m stalking you.”
He’d meant it as a joke, but she had to wonder. Was he sticking by her because he loved her company or because he wanted to keep her safe? But safe from what? Or was it the bracelet he wanted to keep safe? Instead, she’d rather believe he wanted to stay close by in case Dalton showed up and tried to whisk her away.
She flattened her palm against his chest. “Stay, boy. I’ll be back.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll go with you.”
She pressed harder, making sure he knew she meant business. “No. Stay here. Gamble.”
“But, baby—”
“Roman, a girl needs a little time alone. You’re clinging to me harder than a kid going to his first sleepover.”
And yet, still, it was obvious he didn’t want to leave her side. “Is something going on that I don’t know about?”
He blinked and denied it all too quickly. “No. Of course not.”
“Okay, then back off a little.” She touched his cheek. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
He opened his mouth, ready to argue again, and then finally gave it a rest. “Fine. I’ll be right here waiting. Don’t be long.”
“Yes, sweetie. Mommy will be right back.” She grinned then pivoted on her heel and started toward the hallway leading to the ladies’ room. Before the crowd swallowed her, she turned to check on him. Sure enough, he was watching, but at least he’d stayed at the roulette table. He was on his phone, with his attention centered on her.
She lifted a hand, waving to show she was all right, and then hurried into the mass of people between her and the ladies’ room. The crowd soon blocked her way, but she could still see the sign above the long hallway leading to the restrooms.
Is this the same hallway where they found the dead man?
She’d heard about the killing, of course. As much as the hotel wanted to keep things quiet and not frighten the guests, the murder was the main topic of conversation buzzing around the hotel. The authorities had blocked off the hallway for a while, but it had been reopened after the police had completed their investigation and a cleaning crew had wiped away any sign of blood.
Should I go to a different restroom?
Yet it seemed ridiculous to do so. After all, how many murders happened in the same exact place? Plus, the hotel security staff had doubled, and they were probably watching all the hallways and wherever people might find an out-of-the-way location.
She was about to push her way through the final group of people surrounding the slot machines when someone grabbed her arm. Letting out a small yelp, she spun around, half expecting it to be Roman.
A huge woman, standing well over six feet, smiled at her. Her red hair glistened under the fluorescent lights, and her black eyes held hints of red, reminding her of the way Dalton’s eyes had looked in the bathtub.
“That is such a beautiful bracelet. Where did you get it?”
Peyton tugged her arm free. Possessively, she turned the bracelet around her wrist, needing to keep her hand on it. “It was a gift.”
“A gift?” The woman’s bushy eyebrows dipped toward her nose. “From whom? What person gives a girl like you such an expensive present? In fact, it reminds me of the Bracelet of At—” She seemed to catch herself before making a mistake. “Who gave it to you?”
A girl like you? Talk about rude.
“I don’t mean to be rude”—yes, I do—“but it’s none of your business.” She took a step backward, turning as she did to walk away. Too bad she didn’t get very far.
The woman snagged her arm again. “Let me try it on.”
To Peyton’s shock, the woman pulled on the bracelet, trying to get it off her arm.
“Hey, knock it off.”
“Let me have it.” The woman yanked harder, determined to get the bracelet to slide off.
“Ow! What do you think you’re doing?” Alarm speared into her. She jerked her arm away again and tried to run, but the woman grabbed her by the hair. Alarm morphed into fear.
The woman’s eyes blazed red as she shoved Peyton against a slot machine then tucked her head and put her mouth close to Peyton’s ear. “Listen to me, you human bitch. You’re going to take the bracelet off and hand it to me. If you don’t, I will rip your heart out. Do you understand?”
Human?
Peyton gripped the woman’s wrist and tried to wrench her hands off her but couldn’t. She sucked in one breath at a time, afraid it would be her last.
“Take it off. Now.”
Fangs?
Peyton stared at the large teeth protruding from the woman’s mouth. The woman gripped her by the shoulders, tightening her hold, which became more painful as though her nails had grown longer, sharper.
A moan escaped her. Couldn’t anyone see past her attacker’s bulk? Peyton’s breath wheezed in her throat.
She had no choice. She had to give her attacker the bracelet. Holding her arms high so the woman could see, she reached for the bracelet and tried to pry it off her wrist.
And couldn’t.
Panic set in.
Why can’t I get it off?
She tried again, her attention focusing on getting the damn thing off. Around and around, she twisted it. She made her hand as small as she could and pushed, hoping to slip it over her hand, but it didn’t work. She tried harder. Again, she failed.
The world started to spin around her. Staring into the blazing red eyes, she pleaded with the woman to try and help her get it off.
The attacker turned her loose, letting Peyton slump into the chair in front of the machine. She dragged in one breath then another. The woman yanked on her arm, cursing each time she failed to get the bracelet off.
“It won’t come off,” she moaned. “Please. Let me go.”
“You’re coming with me.”
Horror filled her. She couldn’t let the bitch take her to another location. If she did, she’d never survive. “Please. Don’t. I’ll get it off somehow.”
“No. You won’t.” The bitch gave her a smile filled with evil intent. “But I will.”
“The hell you will.”
Peyton gasped as the woman was jerked backward, landing on her back. Dalton and Roman stood over her with Roman’s foot planted firmly on her stomach.
Dalton, red flashing in his eyes, pulled Peyton into his arms. “It’s okay now. Let’s get you out of here.”
“But what about Roman?”
“He’ll be fine.”
People moved closer, finally realizing something wrong was going on. As they crowded around Roman, Dalton hugged Peyton close and worked his way past them. She didn’t ask him where he was taking her as he steered her down another hallway and past several offices of the hotel. Shoving open a door marked Manager, he herded her inside.
“What’s going on?” The balding fat man behind the desk lurched to his feet.
“Get out,” ordered Dalton.
“Who the hell are you?” He narrowed his eyes, recognition showing. “You’re Dalton Valconai. You’d better leave before Roman finds out you’re here.”
Dalton helped her take a seat a moment before her legs gave out. She clutched the sides of the chair, using it to make her feel safer and more grounded.
Dalton seemed to grow taller as he turned to the manager, putting his back to her. “Roman’s in the slot machine area. Go and tell him we’re in your office.”
The manager’s eyes grew wider. Something about Dalton had the manager’s mouth falling open.
He’s afraid.
The manager eased his large body around his desk then hurried past her to the door. Dalton slammed the door closed behind him.
He knelt next to her chair. “You’re hurt.”
She pushed his hand away as he slid his palms along her arms, searching for any injuries. “I’m all right.” But she wasn’t. Not really. “I’m glad you and Roman came along when you did.”
“Do you want something to drink? Whiskey? Water?”
“Water.”
He strode over to the small refrigerator behind the manager’s desk and pulled out a bottle of water. Uncapping it, he handed it to her. “Are you hurt? Do you want to see a doctor?”
His concern felt wonderful and helped to bring her pounding heart back to its regular rhythm. Staring into the liquid, she started to think and to remember.
Fangs.
Red eyes.
Long, sharp talons.
“What’s going on, Dalton?” She clasped the bracelet. Getting it off was impossible, and although she knew she’d be safer if she could, she was still reluctant to remove it. “Why did that woman attack me?”
“I don’t know.”
He turned his gaze away from hers.
He’s lying.
“The hell you don’t. What is it about this bracelet? I know it’s expensive, but it seemed to mean more than that to her.”
“I didn’t give you the bracelet.”
He was still trying to dodge her questions.
“Maybe not, but you know. Tell me. I have a right to know.” She pushed to the end of the chair and clutched his arm. “Look at me, damn it.”
When he did, the red she’d seen in his eyes earlier was gone. Instead, green sparkled with concern—and wariness.
“I can’t take it off.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he took her hand in his. “All that matters is that you’re safe.”
“Don’t ignore me, Dalton. I said I can’t take it off. More than that, I don’t want to take it off.” She fingered the intricate details of the bracelet.
Dalton stood, going to the hutch where bottles of alcohol were set in a line. He took a carafe filled with an amber liquid and poured several inches of it into a crystal glass.
Roman came in, the worry etching lines into his forehead. He moved to her side, kneeling as Dalton had done. “Are you hurt? Shit.”
She allowed him to touch her shoulders through the tears in her shirt. Wincing, she eased away. “I’ll be all right.”
“Good.” He let out a pent-up breath.
“You didn’t let me finish.” She settled her hard gaze on Dalton then slid it to Roman. “I’ll be all right once you two tell me what’s going on. What is it with this bracelet? Why can’t I take it off? That woman was going to kidnap me to get it, and I still couldn’t get it off.”
Roman stood and walked to Dalton. He motioned for Dalton to pour him a glass.
“Obviously, you guys aren’t telling me everything you know.” Angry at them and angry at herself, she tugged on the bracelet, but it stubbornly stayed on her arm. Gritting her teeth to keep from cussing them out, she wrapped her hands around the arms of the chair. “If I don’t get answers right now, I’m leaving. I’ll get on a plane and go home.”
“You’re safe, baby.” Roman slugged back his drink. “I took care of her.”
“Who is she? Why does she want the bracelet so much? And why can’t I get this thing off me?”
Dalton whirled toward Roman. “Why the fuck did you leave her alone? You were supposed to stay with her every minute.”
“I couldn’t without raising her suspicions.”
They argued between themselves, ignoring her questions. She couldn’t take it any longer. “Stop!”
The two men turned toward her. Before either
of them could speak, she threw her bottle of water at them. They ducked, and the water splashed against the wall behind them.
“Tell me everything. I swear to God, if you don’t, I’ll get on the next plane back to Ohio. You’ll never see me again.” Would they care? Or were they waiting for her to get out of their lives?
“You can’t go, baby.” Roman set his glass on the desk before glancing at Dalton. “Give us a chance to explain.”
“Roman,” warned Dalton.
“We have to tell her at some point. I’d rather it be now than to have her fly home.”
Dalton wanted to argue, but it was clear he couldn’t find the words to do so. At last, he gave Roman a curt nod.
Roman pulled up a chair then gestured to Dalton to do the same. Roman leaned forward, getting as close to her as she’d allow. “You’re not going to believe what I’m about to tell you.”
Alarm had her nerves jumping again. “Try me. And I’ll know if you’re lying.”
“The bracelet is an ancient and sacred artifact. It’s called the Bracelet of Atlantis.”
She stared at first him and then the bracelet. “As in the lost city of Atlantis?”
“No. Not the city everyone’s heard of. It’s another city that fell long before that Atlantis was ever built.”
“So it is valuable. Very valuable.” Since it was a gift, one she hated to ever part with, she’d tried to ignore how expensive it was.
“It’s priceless. And I’m not only talking about its monetary value,” added Roman.
“What do you mean?”
“The bracelet is part of a prophecy. The woman who wears it will become a great queen. It’s said that the bracelet will choose a queen by staying on her arm. No one, not even she, will be able to take the bracelet off.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I know.” Roman paused as though measuring his words carefully. “I’ve heard the prophecy all my life, but I figured it was just a story. All cultures have myths and legends, so I chalked this up to being one of ours. Until you put the bracelet on, that is. The fact that you can’t take it off makes me believe the story is real.”