I checked the watch and followed it to
a
service elevator. When I pressed the call button, the doors immediately popped open. The Lux was a big hotel. With forty-three floors to choose from, I had no idea where to begin. Checking every floor wasn’t an option. I concentrated on the watch, but it didn’t do anything.
“Which one?” I finally said, but still nothing.
I spotted the door to the stairwell. I really hoped the watch wasn’t expecting me to take the stairs. I focused again, and this time the hand pointed toward the buttons. I moved closer, and the hands started spinning then slowed as I passed each button. The big hand pointed away until I reached thirteen. Ignoring the irony, I swiped the key card and stabbed the circle.
It only took a few seconds for the elevator to reach the thirteenth floor. I followed the watch’s directions, which stopped me in front of room 1313. Had I not been so tired, I would have laughed.
My journey was about to end. The Boss would handle the situation. He’d call Quaid. They’d sort everything out. Junior wouldn’t die. I wouldn’t belong to Mace. I’d get to go back to my crappy life.
One that would be even crappier without Jack.
I dismissed those thoughts. I was still conflicted about his true identity, but I knew he loved me. This wasn’t just a job for him. But would The Boss even let me keep him? If he never wanted me happy—which I believed—he’d use this as an excuse to take Jack away.
I squared my shoulders. I couldn’t show The Boss any weakness. He wasn’t known for his patience, and I was sure he was going to be royally pissed that I was interrupting his meeting.
I started to swipe the key card but quickly decided it was better to knock.
“Yes,” a
woman’s
voice answered.
“Maintenance,” I said, keeping my head down so she wouldn’t see my face through the peephole.
“Just a minute, please.”
A few seconds later, a tall woman dressed in white opened the door. She wore a large hat swathed in a veil that made her resemble a beekeeper. Her perfume had a light, sweet smell to it. The scent reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t remember
who
, and oddly, the voice hadn’t helped. She wasn’t
who
I was expecting to find in The Boss’s room. For a minute I was speechless.
“Yes?” she finally prompted.
“Um,” I said, finding my voice. “I’m looking for...Conrad…Bosh.” I assumed she knew him by his human name, but why I decided that I wasn’t sure.
She chuckled. “Sorry, you just missed him.”
I dropped my shoulders. I was so tired. I wanted—needed—to find him. I wasn’t going to make it much longer at this pace.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You look ill.”
I raised my head. “I’m fine,” I lied. “I just haven’t eaten much today.” Her perfume seemed so familiar. She must have been in the office before. Although I think I would have remembered a veiled woman in white. “I really need to find him.”
“Wait here,” she said.
She dashed back into the room and returned with two dinner rolls and a bottle of orange juice. I shook my head, but I would have given almost anything for those rolls.
She held out the rolls. “They’re cold now, but you look like you need them.”
I was starving. I took them. “Thank you, miss...”
“You’ll find
The Boss
downstairs in the theater, but he’s not alone—you’ll need to wait for him to finish,” she said.
My mouth was still gaping when she closed the door. She called him The Boss—not Conrad. Who was she? Not now. It didn’t matter. I headed for the elevator.
As I went, I shoved the first roll into my mouth and ate it in two bites. I was halfway through the second one when I opened the juice and chugged it down. I finished off
the second
roll by the time the elevator dinged at my floor.
The car wasn’t empty when it arrived. An old woman in a maid’s uniform, with raven hair so dark it must be dyed, was already inside. Her expression seemed warm and friendly, but there was something cold about her eyes. I decided it was best not to stare. I didn’t need anyone asking to see my ID.
“Are you coming, dear?” she asked.
I cautiously entered the elevator, and the door closed behind me. I studied the buttons, unsure how I’d figure out which one to press to get to the theater. I couldn’t use the watch without making the maid suspicious.
“Do you need help, dear?”
I smiled. “Which floor is the theater on?”
“Three, but you can enter quietly through the balcony from four.”
Her voice was light and airy, nothing like what I would expect from an old woman. Something was eerily familiar about her, but I decided it was best to stop thinking about her and get on with the task at hand. Three was already selected. I swiped my card and pressed four, then slid against the back wall.
Another employee got on and off before we reached the fourth floor. I looked back at the old woman. She winked and pointed toward the right as the doors closed. A chill ran down my spine. I wasn’t sure what it was about her, but I hoped I wouldn’t run into her again.
I followed the corridor to a small door tucked into a corner. Ignoring the sign that said ‘Employees Only’, I quietly opened the door and found myself in a narrow hallway behind the theater’s balcony boxes. The guests would use this passage to enter their box; however, they would have to come up the stairs from the main entrance on three, not sneaking in through the back.
I could hear voices, but not clearly. I crouched down and crept into the box closest to me. Peeking over the railing, I was shocked to see the two men who had most impacted my life. The Boss was standing there with his hands in his pockets. His suit was as impeccable as always if not a bit rumpled—his hair still wet from a shower. The other man was someone I didn’t think I’d ever see again—Mr. Harrison, my old foster care caseworker. He was as I remembered, dull and average, but not as underpaid. His suit was clearly several steps up from his days as my caseworker.
Before I could fully absorb the sight of the two men before me, the doors at the back of the theater opened. I ducked down again to make sure no one saw me.
“Good evening, Sister,” The Boss said.
Sister!
“Yes, Sister, it is good to see you looking so well,” Mr. Harrison said.
I peered over the railing again. Who were they both calling sister?
My heart skipped a beat. Mab. She floated down the aisle toward them, her delicate dress draped over her statuesque body as if she were an ethereal angel. A cold shiver passed through me as I observed her. I couldn’t believe how wrong I’d been about her connection to the quads. She wasn’t their pagan mother’s sister. She was related to their father, The Boss.
The Demon King and the Pagan Queen were siblings? And Mr. Harrison, how did he fit?
Oh my god, no
. He couldn’t be the Druid King. How was that even possible? I’ve trusted so few people in my life I could count them on one hand. Three fingers: Jack, Omar, and Mr. Harrison.
I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised I was fooled on all counts. My boyfriend was really a servant of the Demon King
, my
caseworker was most likely the Druid King himself, and Omar knew more about
me and
my blood than I did.
I ducked as Mab glanced at the box where I hid. She’d sensed my presence easily enough. I’m sure she knew I was here in the flesh. I considered sneaking out the way I’d come in, but I needed to see The Boss. I’d deal with the fallout if she decided to rat me out. I was running out of options, and clearly, there was more going on here than I knew.
“Brothers,” Mab said. “It’s good to see you both again so soon.”
Okay, so she wasn’t going to rat me out. I took a chance and spied over the railing.
Mab stared at The Boss. “How are your children doing?”
“You’re the one who called the meeting, Sister,” The Boss said, his lips tight and teeth ground together. He was clearly pissed to be here. And from the looks of it, with the woman upstairs in his room, I could guess what this meeting had interrupted. “I assumed you would be the one to tell me,” he finished.
“I did not call the meeting to discuss any of your children,” she replied. “I was merely being polite. I have come to discuss the girl.”
Mab’s lips turned up in a cruel smiled.
Oh, shit. She was talking about me
.
The Boss pulled his hands from his pockets and clasped them in front of his body. He narrowed his eyes at her. Then he glanced over at Mr. Harrison.
“What is your claim this time?” Mr. Harrison asked.
This time
?
“She has entered my realm uninvited.”
Mr. Harrison and The Boss stared at each other but didn’t say anything. Mab’s confident grin didn’t waver.
The Boss straightened, standing more erect. “When?”
“Time is not always as it seems,” she said smugly.
I rolled my eyes. The
me
from this time hadn’t yet been to Purgatory. Maybe The Boss would know.
“Why?” he asked.
Or maybe not.
“Something to do with your four, I suspect. It is so hard to keep track.”
“Did she intend to enter your realm?”
Mab waved a slender hand, dismissing his question. “We both know that isn’t relevant. The rules are clear. I can claim her for breaking the rule and entering my realm, if I choose.”
What rule? The uninvited rule? But that would just let her kill me, right? Was there another rule I didn’t know about? A rule that gave her the right to claim me?
The Boss’s face hardened. He didn’t seem pleased with her answers. Although it didn’t seem to me he was putting up much of a fight.
“Harry,” she said, then paused.
Harry... Mr. Harrison was Harry—the Godfather. I’d forgotten. The Druid King was the Godfather.
“What a droll name you’re using these days, Brother,” Mab continued. “You’ll confirm my right to the girl.”
Mr. Harrison eyed The Boss and shrugged. “She has a claim—if she wants her.” He lifted a brow at Mab. “You’re one to talk. You haven’t changed your name since Shakespeare used it in one of his plays. And dark hair on you has never been very becoming.”
She laughed. “Classic is still better than
Harry
, Harry. I’m a pagan no matter my hair color
, I am
always
becoming.”
Oh my god
, these
were the people screwing with my life—bickering like children.
Addressing Mab, The Boss interrupted, “Why do you want her? She’s no different from the rest.”
There’s the protector I’ve always known. I’m glad to know at least one person doesn’t think I’m special.
Mab smiled at The Boss. “She is your weakness, Brother.”
The Boss’s face darkened with rage. “Hardly,” he growled.
Mab’s lips curved up in a wicked grin. “And we
all
know she is different from the rest.”
Who were the rest
?
“You can’t control fate by controlling her,” Mr. Harrison added.
Mab ignored him, focusing on The Boss. “There is one who will be unhappy if you lose her. Do tell, Brother, is she still in the hotel or have you already sent her away?”
His eyes flashed red, and he glared at her, teeth bared. “That deal has already been made,” he said. “We will speak of it no longer.”
“It may have been a mistake,” Mr. Harrison intervened, stepping between them, “but Melinda is off-limits. What do you really want?”
I stopped listening at the word “Melinda.” They were talking about her—my mother. I sank down to the floor with my back against the box.
The perfume
, the voice said.
Images flashed in my head. Images of a blurry figure surrounded by a light beautiful fragrance. How could I have forgotten?
The angelic beekeeper—the woman in 1313—was my mother. The only person who’d ever loved me.
Not caring if they heard me, I scurried out of the box. I bolted down the hall toward the service elevator. It seemed to take forever to get to the thirteenth floor. I almost ran into a maid as I rushed out. Dodging her, I headed toward the room. I rounded the
corner,
then stopped dead in my tracks.
Mace was standing outside the door of 1313, tapping on the screen of his phone.
“No,” I whispered.
His head raised. Smiling, he returned his phone to his pocket. His lip curled up on one side. “Everything,” he said, raising one eyebrow in smug satisfaction, nodding toward the hotel room.
No, no, no
. I shook my head. He couldn’t have her. Not her. The rage in me grew. A fire at the pit of my stomach churned. I wanted to kill him.
A tingling sensation started at my wrist. My chest constricted, and my breathing became labored. Hard knots tightened in my stomach, and a hot pressure pushed against my eyes. It was happening again. It was similar to the pain I’d felt when he showed me that Jack was a demon.
Tiny crackles of current sparked off my watch. White wisps of electricity were swirling around the band, the action identical to what it had done with the bracelet.
Mace’s eyes widened as the pressure increased against my eyes. I assumed they were flashing green again, but I had no way to know.
The cart is new
, the voice said.
What
? I looked behind him. There was a maid’s cart outside my mother’s room. She’d been dressed and ready to leave before. The maid was cleaning—my mother was gone. Thank God. Mace didn’t have her.
The pressure eased, and the sparks dissipated.
His gaze followed mine to the cart. He shrugged. “Next time.”
He would never take her. The Boss wouldn’t let that happen.