“But when?” Layla asked, turning in Adrian’s arms so she could see the crystal sarcophagus once more, glowing softly beneath the high desert moon. Reaching one hand up behind Adrian’s neck, her fingers stroked his nape, feeling his soft hair. Turning his lips into her, he kissed her neck as his hands kneaded her waist, making her body tighten deliciously even though her mood was still strange.
“Can you feel him, Adrian?” She asked suddenly. “Out in the dunes, at night?”
“Dusk?” He paused, and Layla felt him frown.
“Hunter.”
Layla felt Adrian draw a deep breath by her neck. “You’ve been reading through all those documents Rhennic sent us too late past bedtime, Layla.”
“But is Hunter the benevolent saint he preached back then, creating the White Chalice to unite the clans?” Layla mused, moved by too much wine and partying with their Desert Dragon clan, and the lateness of the night. “Or is he the mad thing I witnessed in the Phoenix King’s bower? Or is he this shadowy puppet-master who has been orchestrating the Hotel for thousands of years?”
“I think Hunter is all those things,” Adrian continued, as he cradled Layla in his arms and watched Dusk’s resting place. “I think he is so many personalities, and has been over the years, that he’s lost. Hunter tried to start a religion to fill some empty place deep inside him when he lost his original Bind-mates, but it never worked because he was too far gone when he started it. Thus, a beautiful idea was enacted in a terrible way, producing a result that had to be torn down.”
“The Red Letter Hotel was similar,” Layla mused. “Except Hunter kept his hands out of the Hotel itself, only used it to further his shadowy aims in other ways. So the Hotel began to flourish without him, to create its own culture and momentum. A culture that stands to this day for actual peace and prosperity.”
“I’m glad it does.” Adrian murmured by her neck. “There are many good people who work for the Hotel, Layla, at all its branches. They believe in peace and love, in joy and redemption. It’s a beautiful place for those who have day-to-day stock in it. The Paris Hotel is not the only site that houses refugees from feuding clans, or people finding redemption from some ancient tragedy.The Hotel protects them. And that’s my job as an Owner, and as a Hotel Head.”
“I’m glad.” Layla smiled, stroking Adrian’s neck. “You’re a good Owner, Adrian, and a good Hotel Head – now that you have Quindici to keep a weather eye on the daily management.”
“Quinn is astute at business, I’ll give him that.” Adrian chuckled as he kissed Layla’s neck. “He’s an excellent Associate Hotel Head, even with his responsibilities to his Dark Haven in Florence occasionally occupying him. I know Dusk doesn’t care for him, and Quinn has a dark side, but he’s never given me a reason to mistrust him.”
“Heathren Merkami has his suspicions about your ally.” Layla frowned, thinking back on the way the Fallen Ephilohim had stared at Quindici during the purge. And the darkness Layla had seen in the Vampire when he had interrogated Imogene Cereste in the Guardhall. Though Quindici was Adrian’s staunch supporter, Layla still felt a chill in her gut when she thought about him. As if summoned, she suddenly felt the Vampire’s kiss he’d given her in his office before her debut. Smooth and supple, a sensation of warm breath eased in her lips and Layla shivered – seeing Quindici’s onyx eyes in her mind as if he were watching her from afar.
“Heathren Merkami has suspicions about everyone.” Adrian kissed her neck, winding her more solidly in his arms, and the sensation of Quindici’s dark magics was banished from Layla’s skin. “If Heathren had anything concrete on Quinn, he would have been arrested, Layla.”
“Too bad the Intercessoria were trigger-happy with their executions before we could get more detailed information.” Layla frowned, still wondering what it was she had just felt.
“But because they were trigger-happy,” Adrian admonished, “we are free. And have more support on the Hotel Owners’ Board than ever before. Which reminds me.” Behind her, Layla felt Adrian slide a hand into a pocket of his trousers and take something out. Sliding his arm around her once more, he pressed something into her palm, warm from his body heat.
“Congratulations.” He breathed by her ear, with a renegade smile.
“Congratulations?” Layla blinked, frowning as she lifted the object up to the yellow lamplight streaming out from the hall behind her, to see it better. As she gazed at it, she saw it was an ‘R’ pin from the Hotel done in platinum, made from rubies edged in diamonds. It looked similar to the employee pin Layla had seen the Madame wear, but this one had a central line of black diamonds running through the letter.
“What’s this? A Madame’s pin?” Turning in his arms, Layla glanced up at Adrian, confused.
“It’s anOwner’spin,” he chuckled softly, a devious humor flashing in his aqua-gold eyes. “Congratulations, Layla Price, newest Owner in the Red Letter Hotel. You don’t have to wear the pin to Board meetings; everyone knows who you are. It’s more ceremonial than anything. But still, you should keep it safe.”
Layla gaped at the object in her hand, then stared up at Adrian. “But… I don’t have enough money to buy my way into Hotel Ownership, Adrian!”
“I know.” Adrian grinned slyly with a devious chuckle. “Quindici heads up the New Owner’s Committee, and I may have gotten him to put your petition forward. Quinn did a little accounting and found the Paris Hotel didn’t really need your Courtesan’s Debut money with all Quinn’s new changes, so he simply didn’t report your Debut to the Board, or its earnings. Between me and Dusk putting in that hundred million Euros, a generous contribution from Reginald’s ample savings, and a sizable donation from Rhennic – we bought you in to the Hotel. Together.”
“But…” Layla blinked incredulously, feeling her world spin, though not in an unpleasant way as she thought about joining Adrian in the fight against Hunter on the Hotel Board. Not to mention the significant generosity of her Bound lovers to pony up what she knew was multiple billions to get her a seat. “Aren’t I supposed to be a Courtesan now, to help you infiltrate the last three members of the Crimson Circle?”
Adrian chuckled, his aqua-gold eyes flashing with a dark knowing as he wrapped Layla closer in his arms. “Do youwantto be a Courtesan, Layla?”
Layla paused, frowning, feeling all the tumult that decision had led her into since the fall – a tumult she still had yet to reconcile. Deep inside, she churned thinking about it. And even though her Dragon coiled eagerly in her veins, there was a darker sensation beneath it, as if that pit of black self-hate and emotionless nothing could rise more quickly, should she actually step into becoming a Courtesan.
“No.” Layla spoke at last, knowing it was true. “I never wanted to become one. I was doing it for you, and because my Dragon is intrigued by sleeping with new people. But the saner side of me that’s not my beast feels like it’s just way too much. I can barely handle being Bound to a number of men. I mean, there are four of you now, and would have been five if Luke and I hadn’t parted ways. Juggling that much Dragon-testosterone in my life is already insane. I can’t imagine what would happen if I really moved forward with being a Courtesan. I think my life would explode or something.”
“I thought as much,” Adrian smiled at her gently, though his eyes were beautifully bright now, as if her words were everything he’d wanted to hear. “Because Quinn had an impressive idea in that calculating mind of his. He thought perhaps now that your Bind-magic is under control and already Bound to four powerful Royal Dragons, that being a Courtesan is not your best avenue in this battle we’re waging against Hunter and the last three members of the Crimson Circle. You’re not afemme fataleof the bedroom, Layla – you never were. You’re a cojones-busting drakaina who comes in like a wrecking ball, clearing a room and making all heads turn. You’re a woman of battle and direct power, not a seductress. And you belong in an arena where battle happens directly. In the Boardroom. And nowhere else.”
Layla blinked at him, then at the crimson and diamond pin in her palm.
And then threw her arms up around Adrian’s neck, kissing him deep and taking no prisoners.
Adrian kissed her back, renegade and wild, before sweeping her up into his arms as she gave aneepof surprise, her drakaina roaring like golden fire in her veins.
“I love you, Layla Price.” Adrian growled sexily at her lips. “And I am taking to you to bed, right now.”
