Chapter 16 #2
“The car behind us isn’t our problem,” Wald said, passing the car in front and then speeding up. The electric car was way behind us but on our tail was a black SUV. At least two people were in it and both wearing sunglasses. My insides twisted.
The car swerved again, and icy root beer splashed out of the can and across the front of me. Fortunately, neither the satin nor the leather were absorbent. I brushed the spill off and choked down another swig. I would die hydrated, albeit sugar buzzed.
Wald smacked the wheel. “Damn it, the car must have a tracer I missed. We’re going to have to switch cars. Britannia, how close to the next exit, and what’s there?”
She looked down at the map on her tablet.
“Tiny town. Not much. Some residential north of the highway. Lots of trees, of course. A gas station and fast food off the ramp to the south. If you take the road south for a bit, you hit the town, and then it starts to be more houses.”
“North it is,” he said, passing the exit, then while my stomach was in my mouth, making a sharp screeching turn on to the on-ramp, and tearing down it before taking a harrowing right under the overpass.
I gripped the dash for dear life, sure this was it. My final moment of life would be with fingers coated in BBQ spice and the linger of root beer on my tongue.
Wald turned off the headlights and tore up the road at full speed.
“Around the curve take a left and then take the next right,” Britannia barked.
I was gripping the center console with one hand, the armrest on the door with the other. The only thing holding me in the seat was the seatbelt. The car skidded sideways on the gravel road, and Wald somehow managed to get control. If I’d been driving, we would have landed in the ditch.
Gravel sprayed behind us. The houses were spread apart with forest in between them.
“There,” Britannia shouted, pointing to the house we’d just passed. Wald skidded to a stop, backed up, then crossed onto the other side of the road. He pulled into a driveway and then, at an angle, rammed the SUV into the trees beside it, and switched off the lights.
“You do the box,” he barked at Britannia as he disappeared at a speed I couldn’t track even with the glasses .
Britannia already had the back of the SUV open before I even got out of the car.
She had thrown the suitcases out and had the drill whirring. “Take the bags and haul butt,” she snapped at me.
I had no clue what kind of trouble we were really in. My heart was hammering, and my arms and legs weren’t coordinating, as if this were all a strange dream. I slung the duffels over my shoulder and then picked up the cooler. I’d have to wheel the suitcase.
“Where are we going—” The purr of a black muscle car pulling up, cut me off.
Adrenaline surged through me as Wald fluidly parked the car across the road like it was a second skin.
He popped the trunk popped open and leapt out.
In a head-spinning blur of movement, Wald dropped the stainless-steel box into the trunk and unburdened me of the suitcases. I walked to the car in a daze.
“Get in,” he hissed.
I ran around to the side. Britannia had the passenger side door open, and the seat pulled forward.
She pointed, and this time I didn’t bother to fight her.
As I crawled into the back, she pushed me in, then slammed the seat back.
I sprawled across the back seat, and Wald had the car in gear before I could find the seatbelt.
I knew when to fight my battles, and this was not the time.
Britannia had her tablet out. “Go straight. It looks like the road is going to end but take the final right. This street leads to a bigger one. We can circle back to the highway.”
“No highway. Take us there on back roads.”
“Back roads to Vegas?” I laughed. “Have you ever driven to Vegas? It’s in the middle of a desert.”
“There are still back roads if you know how to find them,” Wald replied, as if this was a standard for him as Britannia gave more directions. Damn, was this his life? No wonder he liked to fish.
The road was bumpy, but I managed to find the seatbelt connection.
The interior of the car reeked of leather seats and the fake pine of the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.
As if he were reading my thoughts again, Wald tore it off and threw it out of the open window as we sped down the back road.
T he Welcome to Vegas sign blurred past us. “We made it to Vegas?” I asked, somewhat amazed at the revelation. “What now?”
“First, we ditch this car,” Britannia snapped, twisting in her seat like it was made of thorns.
“First, we call Agatha,” Wald barked back at Britannia.
Britannia pout-sneered and put the phone on speaker.
“Hey, honey, where are you?” The low voice I guessed was Aunt Agatha could have been anyone male or female but with a Deep South inflection.
“Vegas limits,” Britannia replied.
“Oh, you got here faster. My show won’t be over until eleven. I’ll leave you tickets.”
“We have a car problem,” Wald said, glancing in the rearview as he signaled to change lanes.
“Hmm. It’s okay, honey, I’ll get you a room. Drop the luggage with the bellman and self-park somewhere else. I’ll VIP the check-in. When you’re ready, come back to the dressing room. Oops, there’s the buzzer, gotta go.” She hung up .
I leaned over the front seat to look at their faces and learned nothing. “Translation?”
Wald pulled into the slow lane. “Aunt Agatha does a show every night except Wednesday and Mondays at the Carasella Hotel. Her plan is good. I’ll drop you and Britannia off, then ditch the car at another hotel self-park.”
Sirens sounded behind us.
“Damn it,” Wald said, glancing in the rearview.
Time slowed as I whirled and spotted the police car behind us. There were a dozen cars between it and us. The flashing lights turned my stomach. I hunkered down, imagining what Wald would say to the officer.
Wald pulled over with the rest of the traffic, and the cruiser sped past. I breathed out the breath I’d been holding, attempting to stuff my heart back into my chest. If we made it to the actual hotel without dying or going to jail, I was going to consider it an accomplishment.
S omehow we made it to the hotel alive and free.
Overjoyed to touch solid ground, I hopped out of the car.
Wald was around the car in a flash, pressing me against the side of it.
His body against mine turned my legs to jelly, and his hand on my arm wandered into dangerous territory.
His power blanketed me equal parts scintillating and terrifying.
Despite the obvious attraction, I appreciated his protection in that moment.
He shielded me like cliff rocks against an ocean of unsettledness, and I happily clung to his calm.
The bell-people whisked away our bags, the stainless-steel box, and the cooler without a raised eyebrow. After all, it was Vegas.
“Go with Britannia. She’ll take care of you,” Wald whispered into my neck, raising the baby hairs like they were standing to attention.
“Yeah, I bet she will,” I replied, tipping my head up for a kiss, but in that split second, he left me to get into the driver’s seat.
Disappointed, I turned around, and Britannia was right behind me.
How long had she been there? It creeped me out I hadn’t noticed her.
Both of them had some kind of power-stealth.
“Zip your jacket up, keep your mouth shut, and avoid the cameras,” Britannia hissed. She strutted into the hotel like she owned the place. I jogged to keep up with her. In that millisecond, I wanted to be her, and I hated that feeling more than I despised her.
After a flawless performance finessing the stunning blonde desk clerk, Britannia had room keys in under two minutes.
My inner jealousy demons chorused. Hotels like this were vacations I could never afford.
“Obviously, you spend a lot of time in hotel rooms,” I taunted.
She used her middle finger to signal I should follow her into the casino.
“What about our bags?” I asked, scanning for the bell-people.
“They’ve got it. If we hurry, we can catch the last of Agatha’s performance. Oh, and you should look good.” She stopped walking and looked me over. “Well, do what you can. Take the jacket off for starters,” Britannia ordered.
I begrudgingly stripped the jacket, and she smiled her approval. I slung it over my shoulder, holding it like it was Britannia’s throat in a death grip. Cleavage forward, I pranced after her.
Two burly men in striped pants and shirtless vests stood ominously in front of closed doors at the end of the casino floor. Britannia went right up to them and leaned over, whispering something. One man opened the velvet rope, nodding at me to move forward.
Inside, the lights were low, but with the glasses, I had no trouble seeing.
The theater’s setup was all full-service tables set around the stage in tiers.
On the stage was a massive coffin with a sling hanging over it.
A greeter whispered, “Follow me” and led us down the right-hand aisle.
He gestured to an empty table in the center of the second tier.
We slid into the seats, and Britannia tugged on his jacket and whispered into his ear.
The super tall woman exuded a commanding presence.
The bushy false eyelashes and a sequined scarlet gown slashed to her waist to display ample cleavage gave a spellbinding effect.
The dress clung like a second skin as she walked around the coffin, the train dragging on the floor behind her.
Black platform stiletto heels peeped out from underneath.
She was larger than life with a grand room-filling aura. I couldn’t look away.
The coffin rose up on a clear Lucite column, and helpers brought out matching stairs.
She arched her arm dramatically toward the audience. “Anyone want to die tonight?”
Hands shot up, including Britannia’s. I pulled her arm down. “Are you crazy?” I hissed. She slapped me playfully, but it stung, and then she raised it up again.
Agatha pointed at her. Assistants approached the table and escorted her up the side of the audience and onto the stage.
A minute later, a waiter delivered drinks to the table.
Frozen frou-frou things with fruit garnishes.
I sucked tentatively at the straw and gagged.
Of course it was pineapple, the flavor of death since an ill-fated Captain and rum pirate-themed Halloween party five years ago.
I signaled for the waiter and ordered a double bourbon on the rocks.
Britannia was helped up the stairs to the coffin. It was going to be a long night.
It was no big surprise that Britannia disappeared, and then a minute later, she came back to the table. The spotlight hit us as she sucked on her straw and waved.
“What the hell did you do that for?” I asked.
“You never know when there’s a talent agent in the audience. Besides, it’s fun to go backstage. The guys are hot. You’ll see,” she said as my bourbon arrived.
I threw it back in four burning gulps, regretting not asking for a cherry.
Agatha took another encore, and then the house lights went up.
“Time to meet the boys,” Britannia said, standing up and perking up her cleavage.
Oh good. Apparently, we’d come to Vegas so she could get laid. I was hoping that was on the table for me too.