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And if there is a hotel stay…it’s bespoke, something dark and cozy, something I pick for my mood.
If I’m going with a man to a hotel, it’s going to be a place built for filth.
This isn’t such a place.
I push myself up to a sitting position, noting my ankles are no longer restrained. Though, I’m not wearing shoes.
A shiver of disgust runs through me, icy fingers over my nerve endings. I’m not a fan of being undressed in any form while unconscious.
A man in black is sitting on a chair at the foot of the bed. He’s wearing a Venetian-style mask, one that covers his face and his hair.
It’s clearly not my thuggish frenemy who kidnapped me in the first place. This one’s more slender, perhaps shorter. Better dressed. The suit, at least, doesn’t have that sheen. He holds the necklace in his hand. And on one thigh is an iPad.
“This isn’t the Heart of Dark Desires,” he says.
I let my gaze travel over him to the necklace. “Your friend drugged me.”
“You don’t strike the big boss or any of us as easy.” The man picks up the iPad.
There’s a joke in there somewhere, but he doesn’t strike me as someone with a sense of humor, so I wait for him to continue.
“Now why the fuck do I think you would be able to select the right necklace,” he says, “even though you were about to blackout?”
“Your friend drugged me,” I say again, tongue too big for a mouth that’s stuffed full of imaginary cotton wool. There’s a beat at the back of my throat, one that comes from extreme thirst. But I’m not about to accept anything, even if it’s offered. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I can’t even remember getting that.”
“Where is the Heart of Dark Desires?”
“In a vault that I doubt I can get into,” I say. “At least, not without a blow torch or a small amount of plastic explosives. The vault no doubt has a safe inside, and it’ll be old fashioned enough that no amount of clever can crack the lock because it’s not that type. Of course, this is a guess.”
“The vault?”
“Oh, that belongs to Hendrick Agnossio.”
He doesn’t react.
“One of the Quinate.” I shift to the end of the bed. “I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
“You’re the world’s best cat burglar—”
“And he’s Quinate.”
“A lover? Or is that Jac Miller?” His head tilts. My blood runs cold, but I’m not about to answer that. After a minute, he continues. “No matter. I want it and the rest of them.”
The rest…?
I take in a slow breath. I’m in a luxury, five-star hotel, exclusive and probably a place to either be seen or blend in. One of those places that’ll accommodate anything, no questions, as long as there’s enough cash involved.
The only reason this interests me is the fact I’m sitting opposite a man in a mask. He doesn’t seem to have a gun, and after all the drugging and chains from earlier, there’s just a pair of cuffs I can get out of. Which means he doesn’t care. And that means there’s enough security on the other side of the door that I’m not getting out of here.
But maybe I’ve got some freedom to move in the room, and I’ll take that. I’ll also take whatever I can learn, but first…
“The rest of what?” I ask.
“Hungry?”
There’s a gnaw deep inside, but I’m able to ignore things like hunger, even thirst to a certain extent. Some jobs require me to sit, wait, hide, for long periods of time.
“What I’d like is a shower.”
