Page 281 of The Spider Queen
I pushed open the swinging door. The conversation of the kitchen staff and orders being yelled from waiters to the chef came to a halt as everyone stopped and looked at me.
Gulping, I forced a smile. “Is there a back exit?”
“Bad date, huh,” one of the chefs asked, his uniform coat starched and white.
I latched on to that excuse. “Oh, yeah. Real bad.”
“You can go out that way,” he said, pointing to a door before getting back to chopping vegetables.
The door led to the front desk office. Luckily it was empty, so I didn’t have to explain myself.
I didn’t know how long I’d been away from the table, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he came looking for me. Now that I was away from him, I felt like I could breathe, and I was in control of my emotions again.
Something about him was hypnotizing.
I dove behind a robust ficus when I saw him exit the restaurant. He looked around, his eyes passing over the large, potted plant. Shaking his head, a small smile appeared on his generous lips. Heading to the double doors that would lead out to the street, he began to whistle.
I shouldn’t have been able to hear it from so far away, and not with all the noise coming from the ballroom. But heard it, I did.
A shiver raced up my spine.
It was the same song I’d heard in my dream. Right before the snake had devoured me.
When I thought enough time had passed, I finally came out from behind the ficus. I didn’t bother trying to hail a cab. I wanted to get out of the limelight. So I darted for the subway.
Luck was with me; as I came down the last step, the train pulled into the station. I swiped my metro card, but it declined. I swiped it again. It went through. I ran for the train, slipping between two closing doors just in the nick of time. Thankfully, the doors didn’t shut on the costume I was wearing. I didn’t want to have to explain to Blaze’s cousin how I’d ruined the beautiful garment. I suddenly realized that I’d left the mask on the table in the bar. I’d call the hotel when I got home. I didn’t dare return for it now.
Heaving a deep breath, I took a vacant seat in the corner as the train departed. The car was mostly empty, but I didn’t relax.
Thirty minutes later, I was shutting the front door of my apartment and my heartbeat wasn’t any calmer.
That song he’d whistled… I still heard it, still felt it. Notes and melody pumped their way through my system, intoxicating me.
I dropped my clutch onto the floor and traipsed toward the bedroom, removing my flats along the way. I got out of the costume but was suddenly too tired to hang it up, so I laid it across the back of the chair.
My eyes were bleary and everything appeared glassy, like I was staring through a sheen of tears. I collapsed face-first onto my bed and fell asleep.
When I woke up, the sun was high in the sky. I sat up and reached for my cell phone, which usually rested on my nightstand. In my state the previous night, I realized I’d left my clutch by the door.
I scrambled out of the tangle of blue sheets and found a discarded T-shirt. I threw it on and then padded to the front room to get my phone. My stomach rumbled with hunger, but I ignored it.
The screen of my phone read 4:15 p.m. I had a dozen missed calls from Herron, one from a number I didn’t recognize, and a stream of text messages. With a sigh, I took the phone to the kitchen. It didn’t matter the time of day; when I woke up I needed coffee.
As the pot brewed, I went through my voicemails. The number I didn’t recognize was from Barrett Campbell, thanking me for coming to her party but also to let me know the offer still stood: she wanted my snow globes at her friend’s gallery. Should I change my mind, I’d only have to say it to make it happen.
I pressed a button to listen to one of Herron’s many voicemails, which seemed a bit excessive.
“Stella!” came Herron’s frantic voice. “It’s been three days since I’ve heard from you. You promised to text when you got home from the masquerade and you haven’t—”
I hung up immediately and opened the calendar app on my phone.
Three days.
I’d been asleep for three days.
Sure, when I crashed, I crashed hard, and sleeping for days wasn’t out of the ordinary for me. But usually I knew when it was coming. I could time it. I could tell Herron so she could check on me. She liked to be aware of these sorts of…episodes.
I sent her a quick text letting her know I was all right but that I’d had one of my crashes. I didn’t expect her to reply since she was still in Paris and she was probably in bed.
