Pride of the Lion: Hades' Carnival, Book 3 (3 page)

He set the glass down in front of her. “It’s nice to see a woman who doesn’t have to get drunk to have a good time. Some of these ladies will get crazy before the night is done.”

“Really?” Araminta wondered if he was putting her on. She studied his long, lean face, admiring the aristocratic lines. With his long black hair and muscular chest, which she definitely wasn’t staring at, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a historical romance novel.

“Absolutely. For a lot of these women this is their one weekend a year to just let go and have fun. And they take full advantage of it.” He wiped down the counter next to her and his hand accidentally grazed hers. Heat rushed up her arm and she pulled back, picked up her glass and took a sip of her drink to cover the move. Honestly, she was acting like a skittish doe during hunting season.

“I guess so. I hadn’t thought about it like that.” She turned her head and looked out over the room. Music was pumping through the speakers and people were dancing. The models had joined the throngs of women on the floor and everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time.

Araminta felt like a fish out of water.

“Hey, my name is Rick.” He wiped his hand on a towel and held it out to her.

“Araminta.” She took his hand and gave it a quick shake, expecting tingles to race up her arm. Instead, she shivered.

He released her hand and smiled. “Nice name.” He studied her for a moment and frowned. “You’re one of the authors, aren’t you?”

She gave a small laugh and nodded. “Guilty.”

“Writing a book is such a cool thing. Maybe we can talk about it.”

Araminta was suddenly tongue-tied. This gorgeous male specimen wanted to talk to her about writing? She really had entered an altered universe.

As quickly as she thought it, she mentally smacked herself. She was stereotyping. Just because the guy was good looking and working a bar didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot more to his life. He probably had a girlfriend or wife and was working this job to make extra money. Maybe he was even working on a book of his own. She’d found that many unpublished writers wanted to talk about writing. She could relate. It was rare that she had anyone to talk to about her craft. Writers, by and large, were a solitary bunch.

Before she could answer, a group of women sidled up to the bar wanting drinks. “Bartender,” one of them called as she banged on the counter.

One of her friends sized up Rick’s naked chest. “Or should we say bare-tender.” The woman laughed at her own joke and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Carol.”

“Gotta work, Araminta. Catch you later.” Rick left and went over to the ladies and took Carol’s hand. “Hi, Carol. What can I get you?”

Araminta strolled away before she could hear Carol’s reply. She doubted she’d see or hear from Rick the bartender again. She sipped her drink and watched the dance floor, envious of the women who were able to let go and just move to the music. Her foot tapped against the floor and she swayed to the beat. The atmosphere was lively and fun.

Luna swooped out of nowhere and grabbed Araminta’s hand. “Come on. You need to loosen up and have some fun.”

She barely had time to deposit her almost empty glass on a table before she was dragged to the center of the floor. Luna began to shake her hips to the beat. The movement was sensual and provocative. Sweat made her skin shimmer in the lights. Several of the male models joined them and one of them grabbed Araminta around her waist.

“Come on, baby. Dance.”

Araminta moved, but it was nowhere near as smooth and lovely as Luna. Still, she gave it her best shot. Before long, the model released her and moved on to another woman. A woman dancing near her accidentally bumped her, smiled and kept dancing. Everyone she looked at was smiling and dancing. Araminta did her best to keep up.

One song bled into another, the music never stopping. She danced with the other women, trying to get her feet to follow the intricate steps of those around her. And when she couldn’t follow the dance, she simply moved. Every now and then, she closed her eyes and let the rhythm take her wherever it wanted to lead. It was liberating not to care what anyone else thought of her dancing. The object was to have fun, not to impress anyone.

Another fast song and then another and another filled the space. Some of the music she recognized and some of it was new to her, but she enjoyed it all. No one seemed to stop dancing, so she didn’t either.

Luna’s laughter floated past her. Araminta turned but couldn’t see the other woman. She blinked as the lights seemed to dim and the shapes of the people around her began to blur. Her legs unexpectedly felt unsteady, probably a result of all the dancing. She wasn’t used to such vigorous exercise.

Araminta slowly made her way to the edge of the crowd and headed toward the doorway. Her head was spinning and she was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Too many people in a confined space was making her too warm.

She glanced toward the bar. Rick was talking to a woman, but he looked her way, raised his hand and smiled. She gave him a weak wave before shoving open the door and stepping out into the empty foyer.

Fresh air hit her and she took a deep breath. “Party animal, you’re not,” she muttered as she leaned against the wall for a moment to catch her breath. The muscles in her legs were still quivering and her knees felt like jelly. She glanced at the clock on the wall over the reception desk and was shocked to realize she’d been dancing for several hours. Time had certainly flown.

But she’d had fun and done something she’d never done before, but it was time to call it a night. Pleased with herself and with the night in general, she pushed herself away from the wall and headed toward the elevators.

Chapter Two

Araminta hummed a tune under her breath as she rode up in the elevator. The party was still hopping in the ballroom but she was worn out from dancing and laughing with the other women. She needed some rest if she was going to get through the workshops and booksigning tomorrow. Not to mention the party tomorrow night. She was glad this was only a weekend conference or she might not make it to the end.

She dug her keycard out of her small shoulder bag and had it ready when the elevator doors opened. Her shoes made little sound on the carpeting as she made her way to her room. When the door closed behind her, she gave a sigh of relief and kicked off her shoes.

She groaned and flexed her poor abused toes. “I don’t know how those other women manage to dance all night in four-inch heels,” she muttered. “Guess it takes practice.”

She padded to the bed and almost fell face-first onto the mattress but refrained. Once her head hit the pillow, she knew she’d be out for the count. It didn’t take her long to gather her nightgown and head toward the bathroom. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water flow over her body.

Her skin felt extra sensitive, almost tender and she took a step back so she wasn’t quite under the spray. She soaped her body quickly and rinsed well before turning off the water.

Other than the rasp of her breathing, the hum of the air conditioner/heating unit and the drip from the showerhead were the only sounds in the room. She quickly toweled off and yanked on her nightgown. The material seemed to abrade her skin, making her flinch.

“What is wrong with me?” She studied her face in the mirror but didn’t see anything different. Same gray eyes and round face. Her eyes seemed overly bright, but that wasn’t surprising considering the excitement of the past few hours.

She plucked the silver clips from her hair and unwound it. The wavy mass fell to her waist and she tugged her brush through it. A yawn caught her by surprise and she tossed the brush aside. She took an extra minute to brush her teeth before stumbling out of the bathroom to the bed.

The light from the bathroom was still on, but Araminta left it, knowing if she woke in a strange bed the light would help orient her. The crisp sheets beckoned and she climbed in, pulling the covers up. Didn’t matter if it was summer or winter, she wanted all the covers over her.

Araminta’s mind was still running a mile a minute, processing everything she’d seen and done tonight, but exhaustion tugged at her body. She yawned again and her eyes fell shut. She snuggled down into the comfortable mattress and relaxed…

She heard the roar in the distance and there was no mistaking the distinct call of a lion. Araminta looked around, wondering where she was. Around her, lights flashed and music pumped out of loudspeakers, the heavy bass thumping so hard the ground vibrated beneath her feet.

She blinked and the sounds and lights were gone, replaced by darkness, a void, complete nothingness. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to take a step forward. She held her hands out in front of her to keep from walking into a wall or another person. She couldn’t see her hands in front of her face. “Is there anyone out there?”

A low, sinister laughter seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, surrounding her. She spun in a circle, searching for the source. “Who are you? Where are you?” Fear pulsed through her veins and her stomach knotted. She bit her bottom lip to keep from calling out again. Whoever was there wasn’t her friend. She didn’t know how she knew this, but she did.

There had to be a way out of here. Araminta took another step, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“You can’t escape your fate,” the male voice taunted.

She ignored the disembodied voice and kept on moving, hopefully away from whoever was there. She took one slow breath after another to keep from hyperventilating. Terror made her knees weak and her entire body quiver. But she kept moving.

A faint light shimmered in the distance and she moved toward it. Or at least she thought that’s what she was doing. The light seemed to keep shifting away from her the harder she tried to reach it.

She squinted, desperately trying to see more clearly, but it was nearly impossible in the darkness. She thought she caught a glimpse of another woman, but the other person was gone, swallowed up by the darkness before Araminta could speak to her.

The light remained and she hurried toward it as fast as she could. That had to be the exit from wherever she was. A door appeared before her with a low-watt bulb illuminating it. The hum seemed out of place, but she didn’t care. She went to fling the door open but paused. What if whatever was on the other side was worse than where she was?

“You are clever.” The male voice sounded amused.

“Who are you?” She might be better off not knowing, but she wanted answers and she wanted them now. Making a decision, she grabbed the handle, turned it and yanked open the door. The hinges gave a sharp squeak that seemed overly loud. She stepped inside and the door slammed shut behind her. There were no locks, but at least she’d hear if anyone entered.

The light in this room was dim, but there did seem to be light coming from somewhere, because she could make out shapes. Araminta moved cautiously, placing her feet carefully on the ground beneath her. She couldn’t tell if she was inside or outside. It was very disorienting.

A brilliant spotlight flashed on and she shrank back, covering her eyes as she was momentarily blinded. She blinked and slowly lowered her hands, needing to see if there was anyone there with her.

She didn’t see a person, but she did see a broken-down carousel. The ride had seen better days and only two animals remained on it—a wolf and a lion. Drawn to it by a force she couldn’t deny, her feet moved until she was standing beside it. The paint was chipped and worn, but there was no denying the beauty of the carved animals. They were so realistic, so incredibly beautiful.

She ran her hand over the flanks of the wolf. His head was slightly turned toward her, his mouth opened to reveal several rows of sharp teeth. “You’re a dangerous one, aren’t you?” She wanted to stroke his head but was almost afraid to, he was so lifelike.

A dizzy spell caught her unawares and she thought she heard a wolf howling in the distance. She shook her head and reached out to catch herself against one of the posts of the carousel. “Wow, what was that all about?” This whole place was disorienting and it was making her feel slightly light-headed and nauseous.

She shuffled over to the lion and sucked in a breath. The creature was magnificent with his thick blond mane and golden eyes. She wasn’t even certain if lions had eyes the color of old gold, or if they would be brown. Not that it mattered. This was an artist’s representation of a lion, not a real one. Still, the animal was amazing with paws the size of dinner plates and thick muscles rippling beneath a layer of fur.

She reached out and touched his side and was startled to feel warmth beneath her hand. She stumbled back, clutching her hand to her chest. The lion slowly turned its head toward her, opened his large, powerful jaws and roared.

Araminta’s heart raced and pure terror enveloped her. The sharp fangs of the lion seemed to glint in the muted light. She jerked back, slipped and kept falling. She thought she might have screamed, but wasn’t certain. For a few brief moments, she couldn’t see or hear anything. It was terrifying to be plunging through a dark nothingness that wrapped around her and threatened to strangle her.

When she finally landed, it was with a thud on a soft padding. The breath had been knocked out of her so she sucked in air in big gulps. It was still poorly lit, but she could see the outline of furniture. She was in a room of some sort. She frowned as the objects came into better view. It looked like her bedroom at home.