He just kept staring at me, waiting for me to finish. “Spa?”

“Yes. It’s a stupid girl thing. Obviously, you won’t understand.”

“You’re right. Ok. Spa. Then what?”

I grimaced. “Then I get this f**king geas off my wrist.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Forsworn

 The Vegas weather was at it’s most manic, going from a bright sunny morning, and then switching to a late afternoon of flash floods, lightning, and thunder. It was a particularly violent one, even for the season. As I headed from our house at the lower part of the valley, to the strip, I actually saw some crazy teenagers trying to body board in it. I shook my head at the sight. Crazy mortal humans, always acting like death was so far-fetched.

The drive seemed unbelievably short, since I dreaded my destination so completely. It wasn’t lost on me that the mercurial weather matched my mood. Dread and anticipation both had a firm hold on me, warring until I couldn’t have said which one held more sway.

I got some strange looks as I pulled up to the covered valet station in Christian’s slightly singed, but still whole, porsche.

The thunderstorm raged gloriously behind me, but my hands were steady as I flicked my car keys at the valet. I strode into The Grove Hotel and Casino like I owned the place. I drew plenty of stares in my black latex getup, thigh high boots almost reaching my mini-skirt, and a corset complementing my diamond collar. My face was an alabaster mask with blood-red lips. I wore a pitch-black, jaw-length wig with straight bangs that just touched my eyebrows. Oversized silver hoop earrings completed my ensemble. I had dipped into Lynn’s wardrobe for the outing. I reflected ruefully that the Ren fair costumes must have in some way influenced my fashion sense.

In spite of myself, I felt kinda cute in the ridiculous disguise. Which, of course, made me question myself for going to so much trouble. I mean, sure, I needed a disguise for the security cameras. But what purpose did the brazilian bikini wax serve? And getting waxed was not something you wanted to do while an anti-regeneration spell was working powerfully on a bruised up body. I would not be doing that again.

I kept my eyes and features in their natural state, but wore a pair of dark, heavy, Dior sunglasses. This whole exercise would serve no purpose if Dom couldn’t recognize me.

A receptionist was stationed at a desk in front of the elevators that led to the office suites of the hotel. Several security guards stood in front of the elevator doors behind her.

I gave her a smile that was all teeth and blood red lips. She was a pretty young thing, with light red hair and bow-shaped lips. The part of my mind that was a masochist wondered if she was one of the many women he was rumored to be sleeping with.

“May I help you?” she asked in a professional tone. She was eyeing me up and down. The look on her face was not friendly.

I perched a hip on her desk. “Yes, you may. I’m here to see Dom. If you could tell him I’m here...”

She gave me a totally blank face. “I’m sorry. No one by that name works here.”

My smile turned unpleasant, and I leaned closer to her. “Give your Arch a ring and tell him that Jillian is here to see him.” I saw recognition light her face at my name. And then animosity. “Call him now, or I’ll make a big enough scene that he’ll see me himself on the security cameras.”

I’m not exaggerating when I say she snarled at me. But she picked up the phone and dialed. “Sir,” she murmured into the phone, tone suddenly warm and polite. And breathless. “There’s a Jillian here to see you.” There was a long pause on the other end. I heard a rumble of words from a familiar voice on the other end of the phone. Then a question. “Yes, sir. She’s extremely tall. Black hair. Big breas-” She handed me the phone mid-sentence.

I put it to my ear, heart pounding. “Say something,” a heart-achingly familiar voice growled in my ear. There was a world of menace in his voice.

The sound of his voice triggered the unwanted memory of the last time I’d seen him.

DENVER 7 YEARS AGO

My body was shaking as I closed the apartment door behind me, leaning heavily against it. The confrontation I’d just had, with the present Arch-Druid Declan, had left me scared and in full flight mode. He’d pushed all the right buttons, threatening Dom and my freedom. What Declan didn’t understand was that pushing all of those buttons had only served to open Pandora’s box. A plan was already formulating in my mind of how to use his own proposals against him. I was more than determined that he would not take away the two things dearest to me. Dom and my freedom. Unfortunately, almost everything else was about to go up as collateral. Including my relationship. And the identity I’d been able to maintain for more than a decade.

I made a fresh cup of hot decaf green tea and sat down to drink it, and think. My hands shook every time I brought the cup to my mouth for a drink. I was wound up so tight that, for the first time, maybe ever, I considered having a glass of wine. I’d heard many people found a glass of wine relaxing. Perhaps, in spite of the danger, it would have that effect on me. My kind wisely stayed far away from alcoholic beverages. Bad, bad things happened when we imbibed.

I finally decided against it, opting instead to hit the gym. It was my safest stress reliever. Maybe after a few hours of intense cardio my body would stop shaking. I determined to do just that as soon as I finished my cup of tea.

My body tensed as I heard a key turning the lock on the front door. Dom wasn’t due home for several hours, and I had no wish for him to see me so shaken.