Page 38 of Too Cursed To Kiss
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 asBritannia 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.
TheWelcome to Vegassign 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.
Somehow 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,” Waldwhispered 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.
