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“Are you on the list?”
My eyes fluttered again.
“The list?” I echoed. Okay, maybe I hadn’t thought it all through.
“The list.”
“What list?”
He pointed at the tablet in his hand, as if that answered all my questions, before turning his gaze behind me. I was forgotten as quickly as I’d been acknowledged. He already had his answer without me giving it.
“Good evening, Mr. Ryan.”
The overbearing stench of feline sweat overtook my senses again, and I knew who stood behind me before I saw the lion shifter from earlier. He barely glanced at me this time as he waddled toward the VIP room, but I seized the opportunity before I could reconsider my actions. As it did when nervousness overtook me, my mouth began to move.
“Hi!” I chirped. “Can I come in with you? I’ve always wanted to check out the VIP section!”
I placed a hand demurely on the arm of the corpulent lion shifter, plastering a fake smile over my full lips, much as it churned my gut. Fortunately, men like Mr. Ryan had little aptitude for reading the room. The fact that he made my skin crawl as much as my captor was of little consequence to the obese lion, twice my size. Both Dahlia and I could have fit inside his pants with room to spare, an image I was sure Mr. Ryan would have liked very much.
He leered, licking his lips at me.
“I could use a lucky charm,” he agreed, sidling toward me. “She’s with me, Mac.”
A small grimace formed over the guard’s face, but he didn’t argue as he stepped aside to let us pass. I flashed Mac a broad grin, but he didn’t meet my eyes fully. His body language had changed, if only covertly, as if he’d lost a modicum of respect for me.
I didn’t blame him. I’d lost some for myself with my own antics, too.
Mr. Ryan slid a thick palm around the curve of my hip, and it took everything in my power not to shake him off. I needed him for a few more steps, at least until we ventured through the heavy, ivory doors beyond the velvet ropes. That was the promised land, where all my dreams were going to come true.
“What’s your name, baby?”
His breath was hot on my cheek, moist enough to leave a mist.
“Jenny,” I lied. A dark eyebrow shot up.
“That’s boring,” he snickered. “I’m going to call you Princess.”
I bristled as his hand tightened around my hip, more at the condescending name, like I was his toy poodle.
But I’d put myself in this position as a means to an end. In a few minutes, I’d never have to lay eyes upon the hideous lion or Covale City ever again, assuming I played my cards right. No pun intended.
The doors opened automatically, although if by magic or by some unseen mechanical device, I couldn’t say for sure. It wasn’t important, nor the focus of my attention, once the massive ivory gave way to show the interior I’d only spied in passing before.
Up close, the impact knocked my breath away. My senses became overloaded with the expensive perfumes, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires glittering to blind me in every direction.
There were no loud slots here, only tables sprawled evenly to allow for the handsomely dressed to mingle through with ease, sparkling dresses swirling to contrast against the red of the carpet as men and women played shamelessly with money they could afford to lose. Tantalizing harp music wafted toward me from the far corner near the triangle window, overlooking the twinkling lights of Covale City beyond. The air even smelled richer here, as if we had crossed into a parallel universe and not just over a threshold.
“Blackjack’s my game,” Mr. Ryan informed me, tugging me toward one of the nearby tables.
I adjusted my body just out of his reach, pretending to study the dealer's shuffling, but stayed close, unsure if I was safe to escape yet. My eyes did a mental calculation of the myriad games. Chips sat everywhere, spewed across tables and a few forgotten on the floor, easy for the taking.
This was going to be easier than I expected. Excitement shot through me, filling my chest.
“Come on, Princess.”
He pushed me toward one of the platforms, and I stumbled slightly, barely regaining my footing, my palms splaying onto the pristine mahogany table. Instantly, I left prints behind; the sight causing my eyes to widen. I didn’t want to leave evidence behind, even if I’d never been arrested. Atlas ran this city, and he had resources at his disposal that I could only dream about. I couldn’t risk being hunted down by his men on top of everything else that was happening. Hastily, I looked around, sensing all eyes on me. Falling back, I let Mr. Ryan take center stage while covertly sliding some chips on the table into my palm.
“Go ahead,” I squeaked. “The table’s all yours.”
