Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His head is at a slight tilt as he studies my face.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I force a smile up at him, squeezing his hand as we approach the elevator. I press the up arrow, and Caz stares at the brown doors, confused. When the doors spread apart, he takes a leap back, tugging me with him.
“We’re going in that?” he exclaims.
“Yes, and it’ll be fine, I promise.” I release his hand and go for the doors, pressing my back to one side to keep them open.
He studies the silver walls and mirrors inside the elevator then enters with tense shoulders. I walk in and stand next to him as a woman boards with us. Caz presses his body to the back corner of the elevator, glaring a hole into the back of the woman’s head. I notice him reach for the inside of his coat, but before he can, I grip his hand.
“What should we have for dinner?” I ask, and he drops his eyes to mine, frowning. When he sees the warning in my eyes, his shoulders relax a bit, but that doesn’t stop him from staring at the woman.
I fight a smile as he says, “Not sure.”
“You should dry Mandina’s!” the woman insists, turning halfway to eye me. I smell wine on her breath as she leans in a little closer. “Me and my husband went last night—incredible! The shrimp linguini and garlic bread are the perfect combination.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her. “I’ll have to check it out.”
When the elevator stops on floor three, she waves at us and trots off. As the doors come together again, closing us in, Caz expels a long-winded breath.
“I will never understand why you’re so eager to talk to strangers,” he mumbles.
“It’s common courtesy. And don’t be so nervous,” I tell him as the elevator rises again.
“Why couldn’t she wait her turn to get on?”
“There are no turns for the elevator unless it’s already packed,” I say, laughing. “Anyone can get on if there’s enough space.”
“Such strange customs.”
The elevator stops, and the doors groan a bit as they open. “Come on. This is our floor.” I step out, marching down the green carpeted hall to room 412.
Relief sinks in as we enter the room. We’re safe, if only for now. I flip a switch, and the darkness is replaced with dim, gold lights. A king-sized bed is pressed against one of the walls, the headboard black and upholstered. The curtains are black as well, a sheer ivory one behind it. This particular hotel has been around for one-hundred-twenty years, and I gather that by the smell of old carpet and the undertone of cigarettes, though this is now a non-smoking hotel.
I set my suitcase aside, and Caz dumps his on the floor, walking through the room to survey it.
“How long do we stay here?” he inquires.
“Just one night. I googled the Yakaree place, and it’s not far from here.”
“You what?” he asks, confused.
“I searched for information on my phone. Anyway, her shop is only a mile from this hotel.”
Caz maneuvers to the window, pushing one of the thick curtains aside with a finger. As he peers out, studying his surroundings, he asks, “What are we to do if she’s not willing to help us?”
I sit on the edge of the bed, huffing. “I…really don’t have an answer for that.” Then I chew on my thumbnail because the question taunts me. What are we going to do if this woman doesn’t help us? Where do we go from here? Do we just keep running and hiding, hoping Decius can’t get to us? Because that won’t work. We can only run for so long. There is a chance we can return to Vakeeli together, but there’s also a possibility that we’ll be killed as soon as we land with Decius drifting around.
“Oi.”
I look up, and Caz is watching me, his brows slightly pinched together. He walks my way, slipping out of his coat and dropping to one knee before me. “Let’s take our minds off the negative. This would be a good time for me to tap in with Cerberus, see what he and my clan are up to. Will you show me how you did it with Silvera?”
I smile up at him as he offers his hands for me to take.
“Are you trying to distract me?” I ask, rising with him as he tugs on my fingers.
“I am. Is it working?”
“It is.”
He walks around the bed, one of my hands clasped in his, and sits in a large, cushioned chair in the corner. He clutches my waist, hauling me down on his lap, and I yelp then laugh as he wraps his arms around my middle.
“So, what did you do first?” he asks after laying a kiss on my jawline.