“My savior.” Dusk grinned, kissing her fingers again. And then he pulled her in with strong arms. Layla fell against his body and he gave a very pleased, very masculine chuckle. But it had none of his usual rumblings as he lifted his lips, kissing her. As Layla kissed him back, she realized she could feel his deep fatigue. As if tiredness swamped his every sinew, she felt it heavy like lead in her veins.
“Go to sleep,” she murmured, pulling away. “I’ll come back and check on you later.”
“My hero,” he growled again, though he was already rucking down into the duvet. He gave a fatigued smile, his eyes closing as he fought exhaustion and lost. Layla smiled as she pulled the covers up. But his fingers shot out from beneath the duvet as she tried to rise, clasping her hand. Weaving his fingers into hers, Dusk gave her a last sleepy smile and a roguish lift of one eyebrow. “Promise me you’ll be back.”
“I promise.”
“You still owe me breakfast.”
“Do I?” Layla laughed.
“You do.”
And with that, Dusk cuddled down in the duvet, letting her go. Layla watched him; she saw the beautiful smile that curled his lips as he drifted off. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to slide back under the covers with him. To stay beside him all night, feeling his delicious warmth and easing her hands over his muscles as they breathed together, listening to the fountain burble in his crystal apartment.
But she had duties to attend, and problems to solve.
With a small smile, Layla turned – moving out through the doors and shutting them quietly, heading back down to the main Concierge desk.
CHAPTER 25 – SAMHAIN
Dusk had been out for three days. Layla had been up to his apartment a few times to check on him, but he’d generally been asleep, recovering. Rachida had stayed there watching over him – though after she and Layla’s talk, Rachida had been pleasant rather than disturbingly intimidating. Layla had resumed her shifts at Concierge Services and also taken Dusk’s, working eighteen hour days to finish the Samhain preparations. But tonight, she’d been relieved of her duties by Jenna and Lars.
Because one of the biggest parties of the year had arrived – the Samhain Masquerade.
It was an event Layla had heard stories about, of debauchery and excellence, scintillation and fascination. The Hotel had four masqued balls a year, the Grand Masquerades – the Samhain Masquerade in the fall, the Yule Ball at Winter Solstice, the Beltane Bacchanalia on May first, and the Litha Bonfire at Midsummer Solstice. Each ball was an ostentatious event and the Hotel was full, every suite and outbuilding stuffed with patrons. Tonight, the entire palace would be lit from stem to stern, every ballroom flooded with dancing, every dining-hall and bar lively with drink and laughter and an unholy excess of food.
Every staff member could choose to attend two Masquerades per year, working the other two. But the Dragons were still in the Hotel, minus Rachida and Emir Tousk, who had left upon an errand for the clan this morning. But most of the Dragons were still in attendance, and Dusk had impressed Layla that under no circumstances was she to work this event.
She was to take this one off – her first Masquerade at the Hotel – to drink and make merry.
Layla was looking forward to it. Stepping back up to her apartment, she watched the Hotel in its final transformations. All the decorations were up, the entire palace glowing from stem to stern. Every marble pillar had been wreathed with garlands of autumn leaves, every French Baroque niche had been set with cornucopias of real pumpkins, gourds, pears, and grapes. Sheaves of wheat braided with autumn berries and corkscrewing willow-branches had been woven across every arch, laurel and bay leaves entwined through it all with a glossy artistry. Firefly-globes lit every hall, kindled just for this event. Niches for debauchery had been created with screens of vines and autumn marigolds. Scents of cinnamon and clove, harvest berries and sandalwood perfumed the air, with the delicious musk of nag champa straight from Nepal.
The autumnal indulgence lifted Layla’s spirits and hurrying up to her rooms, she shut the gilded doors quickly. A sparse dinner waited on her table; chicken soup with sautéed kale. Far from extravagant, her dinner was a only snack – the real manifesto that Catering had been working on all week would be served in the banquet halls and ballrooms.
After a few hasty bites, Layla went to her closet and threw open the doors. Head Clothier Amalia DuFane had outdone herself with Layla’s gown for tonight. Though Layla hadn’t heard from Adrian in the past three days, Dusk was feeling better and had asked Layla to be his partner for the evening. She was looking forward to it, and as she unlatched the crystal honeycomb case of her gown, a thrill of anticipation rioted through her.
Whether or not Adrian showed tonight, Layla was going to have averygood time.
Her gown didn’t fit the autumnal decor. A royal midnight color, it was entirely beaded in dark sapphire, labradorite, and midnight Swarovski crystals – that shone with the oilslick iridescence of Dusk’s scales, in a swirling pattern reminiscent of Dragon-scale ridges as well as crystal stalactites. Amalia’s magic made the gems come alive on the sleek gown, the tight corset giving way to a beaded silk wrap-skirt that slithered out in a long train.
Layla shed her work dress quickly, shimmying into the gown. It slid on like a waterfall, cooling her skin. The sweetheart bodice with its plunging cleavage was beautiful armor for the evening, hard with beadwork and gems. Because it was armor tonight – armor against Adrian, whom Layla had still not been able to find and tell about Dusk.
Slipping on midnight silk heels, then donning Mimi’s diamond and sapphire jewelry, Layla stepped to the bathroom. Her makeup and hair had been professionally done after her shift, her sable curls in a chignon at the side of her neck with 1940’s waves, her makeup in gentle blues and purples, her eyes smoky and lips crimson.
Moving back to her bathroom vanity, Layla took up her masque for the night. Made from a plaster cast of her face, the half-masque was an incredible representation of Dusk’s serrated midnight oilslick ridges, though far more extensive. Arching over the cheekbones and temples, the scaled ridges were interspersed with lines of gold that also ran through the gown, the scales on both the gown and masque created with Swarovski crystals, sapphires, and labradorite gemstones. Long spines corkscrewed back and up from the masque, done in diamonds and gold – the same as Layla had seen when Dusk had nearly changed in the Vault.
As Layla donned it, the half-masque seemed to snarl at Layla with power and grace; Amalia’s artistic representation of a Crystal Dragon drakaina. Layla’s eyes shone jade and smoky from the eyeholes, and as she watched herself in the mirror, she felt a smooth tremor shiver her. As if Dusk was somehow with her, Layla felt a lower-than-sound vibration ripple through her body in a scintillating wave.
Observing herself in the mirror, Layla suddenly saw Adrian’s aqua eyes widen in her mind – like he’d been slapped. As if he was with her also, watching her get ready, Layla caught her breath in a moment of vertigo. She felt Adrian’s fury as he saw every detail of her costume and knew precisely what it meant.
Adrian’s heated, roaring energy was suddenly pouring through Layla, as if he were right there with her. It staggered her, one hand against her gilded mirror as she breathed hard from the scalding wind lashing through her body. Triggering her own rage in a wave, her combined heat with Adrian’s staggered her – causing vertigo along with a sudden spike of hot pain through Layla’s body. Breathing deeply, Layla struggled against their Bind – to fold all that power and heat back down beneath her hamsa-cuff.
The Dragon was out of the bag, apparently.
And he was pissed.
It wasn’t the way Layla would have preferred to tell Adrian about her and Dusk. But even as a dark worry poured through her, that maybe she should skip the evening and avoid trouble, a polite knock came at the door. Layla shuddered back to standing, using the hamsa-cuff to aid her control over her Dragon’s heat and banish her connection to Adrian. Moving to the door, she threw it wide. She had almost expected it to be Adrian at her door, but it was Dusk – looking more splendid than Layla had ever seen him.
