“I know.” She spoke back, watching his face. “I don’t know everything yet, but I’ve heard the gist of it.”
Dusk took a deep breath, then let it out. His gaze swung to Adrian and they shared a long look as Adrian nodded with a wry twist of lips, his face hard. Dusk closed his eyes as if gathering himself and Layla felt his crystal wall slip. At last, it came down completely as he looked back to Layla. The sapphire in his eyes was brilliant as if they’d turned to blue diamonds. He was tense as he spoke, though calm and collected finally.
“Layla. You’re off Concierge starting now. You’ll still get paid for the week, but until the Samhain Masquerade, you will be at my side. I have to stop by the desk and re-arrange the schedule, then we’ll go to your room and get you properly outfitted. Yoga clothes will do for our aims in the next few days.”
“Doing what?” Layla lifted an eyebrow, astounded at his change and intensely curious about what was going on now.
“Teaching you how to fight, Dragon-style.” Dusk gave her hard eyes back. “If you’re going to be in on this secret, then you need to be able to protect yourself by Samhain. Come on, step lively. I want to make sure you’re at least able to shield before midnight.”
Dusk flicked his fingers in his usual brisk way, though it had a military commander’s efficiency in it now rather than his usual grace. Astounded, Layla could only nod with big eyes as she glanced at Adrian.
“Go,” he murmured. “I’ll join you when I can. Maybe not tonight, but soon. I promise. And Dusk’s right. If you’re going to be involved in hunting the void-shadow with us, Layla… you need to know how to fight.”
Layla nodded, reaching out to clasp Adrian’s hand. His fingers smoothed over hers and Dusk watched them a moment, something strange on his face. At last, Dusk stepped away, back down the hall in the direction of the Concierge desk. Releasing Layla’s hand, Adrian nodded for her to follow.
Layla followed, even though a part of her screamed to leave Adrian. But squaring her shoulders, a vicious kind of elation filled her at the prospect of learning to fight with her magic. Recalling the lances of color she had seen during the hunt, Layla felt an eager swirl of coils and talons inside her body.
Her Dragon reared its head and snarled, baring fangs as if excited to kill. A scorched citrus scent curled up from her skin and Dusk glanced back, slowing his stride to let her come abreast of him. He watched her with piercing, sapphire-bright eyes – and then a subtle smile curled his lips before he marched on.
CHAPTER 20 – GUARD
A half-hour later, Layla was dressed in a green yoga top, grey leggings, and black flats, a cream wrap sweater tied on over everything as she walked through the Hotel at Dusk’s side. He’d been quiet since they’d left Adrian, a deep intensity vibrating from him that Layla could feel shivering through her body as they walked, though not in a sexual way. She didn’t think he was doing it on purpose, his pensive frown not directed at her as they strode to the south wing of the Hotel.
Mostly personnel apartments and meeting rooms, the south wing didn’t have any guest suites, though Layla had been through these halls to visit the Hive of the Head Clothier. But Dusk took them a different direction now, turning a corner and marching down a broad series of stone stairs to the sub-basements where the Hotel Guard trained. A few off-duty Guardsmen strode up the stairs toward them, sweaty and bruised but laughing. With towels around their necks and their crossover crimson jerkins unbuckled, they showed brawny chests blossoming with bruises from training. The quartet gave Layla hot gazes as they passed, but smart nods for their Head Concierge.
“Dusk,” one of them growled genially, a broad fellow built like a shield who was older than the rest. Still handsome, he had grey in his short-trimmed beard and wavy blonde hair. Missing an eye, a ragged scar extended from beneath a stylish black eyepatch.
“Lorio,” Dusk nodded back as they paused to clasp wrists on the stairs.
“Training tonight?” The older man gave Dusk a knowing look, though he glanced curiously at Layla. “Rikyava’s busy with some new recruits, but she should be able to join you in an hour.”
“Thanks, but I’m not here to spar with Rikyava tonight.”
Layla’s brows rose at this information, that Dusk and Rikyava didn’t just spar together in the bedroom, but she kept silent.
“Do you need a sparring partner?” Lorio asked. “I could stay awhile. I’m off shift.”
“No, but thanks. I’m actually training Layla tonight. Is the Vault open?”
The man lifted an eyebrow, then dismissed the younger Guardsmen with a lift of his chin. They continued up the stairs, though they had grins for Layla. None were guys she had met yet, and she gave them a frosty eyeball like she’d once done at the bar in Seattle. They laughed and continued up, buckling their jerkins and shucking their towels into a laundry chute before being seen in the Hotel proper. Lorio gestured for Dusk and Layla to follow, then turned down the long staircase to a set of massive stone doors at the bottom.
Carved with martial scenes, the doors swung in easily at Lorio’s touch. Opening to an enormous underground space that Layla had only seen on her tour, they entered Rikyava’s domain – the Hall of the Guard. Entirely underground, the vaulted atrium was like a medieval catacomb. Tasteful lighting filled the vaults and niches, showing off porticos devoid of decoration. There was nothing down here to distract a person from what this was: a war-hall, a training-area, and an armory.
Closed steel doors like bank-vaults flanked the ingress, massive vaults that Layla knew contained magical weaponry, though she had never been inside. The next set of steel doors were open, though, showing enormous well-lit rooms protected by steely-eyed Guards and containing polished racks of swords and pikes, and velvet dummies of armor. Not to mention lit walls of knives displayed in shining perfection alongside military-issue handguns, rifles, kevlar, and other modern war-making accoutrement.
The next set of doors were closed, leading to tunnels that warrened deep beneath the grounds. Those led to the Safehouse, Layla knew, a series of enormous underground halls that could protect the entire staff and a full contingent of guests if the Hotel were ever attacked. Cleaned once a month, the Safehouse was kept stocked with magically-preserved goods. Layla knew it connected to an underground aquifer, but hadn’t been down there as it was off-limits.
The next series of rooms contained deliciously-honed men and women moving in and out, clad in sports-bras, shorts, gym shoes, and workout gear. The enormous weight-lifting area and functional fitness gym was in constant use, Guardsmen and women sweating and heaving as they worked out in teams. Beyond that, Layla saw climbing-walls and other athletic equipment used in the Guard’s drills. Through another vault was a sauna facility with steam-rooms and hot pools, Guards laughing naked in the pools as others lounged quietly after a long day.
Beyond the steam rooms were fight-halls with glass view-panes set into their doors. These were dedicated to sword and pike practice, and the next few were shooting ranges, muted pops issuing from within as Guards trained with modern firearms. But the last seven halls were dedicated to magical fighting. Five of the six doors were open, displaying enormous gymnasium spaces entirely made of natural amethyst and rose quartz crystal – magical insulation. Any staff member could come down here to let off magical steam, Layla knew. But the last room at the end was the Hotel’s deepest and most secure, known as the Vault – a place they put prisoners if someone did something severely out-of-line.
Glancing in the first closed magic-hall door, the window reinforced with a thick shield of rose quartz, Layla saw Rikyava inside with a group of Guardsmen and women. Magic simmered as she watched, one of the trainees heaving a blast of fire at another who slammed up her hands, forming a shield-wall that burst into the air with a furious scream. The wall shrieked as much as the woman who had cast it, her head crested with gold-black feathers; a Harpy. The screams devoured the fire from her partner who sagged to his knees, screaming as he covered his ears.
Rikyava shouted and the Guardswoman ceased, breathing hard from her exertions. Dressed in her crimson uniform but with the jacket casually unbuckled, Rikyava removed earplugs. Seeing them at the window, Rikyava waved, then marched toward the door. Layla heard a complex latching mechanism and Rikyava heaved the door inward.
“Hey guys! What brings you down to my dungeon realm?” The Head Guardswoman grinned, though her violet gaze flicked from Layla to Dusk with a measure of curiosity.
“We need to get into the Vault, Rikyava. Layla and I need to practice down there tonight.” Dusk spoke with his usual efficiency, but Layla saw Rikyava’s blonde brows climb her forehead.
