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Without explanation, he left, flipping the light switch before shutting the door with the barest whisper of sound.
4
Okay. I slept in a man’s bed without knowing his name, but in my defense, he wasn’t in it.
Score one point for me.
I slept under Morpheus' tender watch until my internal clock screamed to open my eyes, or was it my empty stomach? Healing takes a toll on me, the same as others in my former pack, except when they've finished repairing their bodies, they shift, hunt, and eat their kill.
I end up at the nearest Mexican food drive-thru.
Which sounded like heaven right about now.
Groggy and a bit confused, I discovered I still lay in the lush bed with the black satin sheets and the light-as-gossamer red comforter. The bad news? I was still in the care of my last client, and the more I remembered our recent conversation, the less I desired to wake up.
Mr. X claimed he didn't intend to kill me to remove his weird magical shrunken hand, and I sure as sweet hell don't want that thing inside of me. But how the hell do you trust someone with your life when they won't even tell you their name?
“At least for the moment I'm alone.” My voice breaks the silence, feeling unnaturally loud, scratching its way out from the Saharan desert in my throat.
I pressed my hand to my sternum and psychically felt for the artifact. Sure enough, a tiny buzz inside me hummed,“Yes, I'm here. I'm home.”Home, it says. Fucking hell.
But that doesn't get me out of here or supply the answers I need, the ones Mr. X will soon demand.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed.
Okay. The second nap performed its magic, and now an overwhelming need for a beef burrito with extra cheese, sour cream, and jalapeño sauce burned through me.
For a hot second, I heard something outside the wide double door at the far side of the room. So I sucked in my breath, one foot on the floor, half sitting on the bed, and waited.
But whatever it was, it vanished just as soon as it arrived. Hmmm.
I slipped off the bed, curled my toes into the plush rug covering half the room, and stretched again. As Mr. X said, I'd have died if I was human. But aside from the gnawing hunger and the sense I may have lost a little weight, I feel fantastic.
Almost great enough to track Kye down and kick his ass for getting in my way and sabotaging this job. I also should get my ass kicked for not noticing that he'd caught my scent. How else could he have known I was out there or followed me to the artifact?
Then again, he seemed to know where the object was, too.
Had I stolen something from Kye? Was Mr. X the true owner of the object? Or had I crossed Kye and stopped him from doing something stupid?
My guess? Stupid is as stupid does, and Kye has a penchant for choosing stupid.
I caught sight of myself in a mirror across the room. I'm no longer in my stinky, muddy clothes but in a soft pair of lounge pants and a tank top that hangs so light that it feels like I'm naked. With its sheer texture, I may as well be.
This was too much. How dare Mr. X strip, wash, and dress me in something that left my unmentionables visible?
Despite the lack of decency, this thing was heaven to wear.
Across the room from the double doors are three more, a glass French door that I assume heads out to a balcony and two sleek steel doors that match the decor on the third wall, with the bed, side tables, and a modern armoire.
“Guessing one is the bathroom, and the other is a closet?” I said, taking stock of the place. “Here’s hoping because my bladder is about to explode.” My voice sounds unnaturally loud in the utter silence of the room, and I realize I can't even hear an air conditioner running in this perfectly temperature-controlled room.
“Jesus, I should've demanded more money. He's fucking loaded.”
I opened the first steel door and glanced into a walk-in closet filled with women's clothes. It's half the size of the tiny two-bedroom apartment I share with Chastity. It's filled with stuff I would wear. I'm getting creeped out because this level of detail implied someone spent time and money investigating me and made plans for contingencies. How did I not notice someone spying on me? What if getting me here had always been the plan?
I huffed and opened the next door to a gleaming white and steel en suite. The porcelain goddess beckoned.
“Thank, fuck.”
