Page 110 of Blue Moon

Michelle laughed and shook her head. “Oh, honey. We’re not in Vegas anymore.”

What? “But I have a show tonight.”

I pushed myself upright, and that was when I saw the chains padlocked around their waists. Felt the cold metal snaking around my own and experienced the crushing terror of knowing the worst had happened. That was when I screamed.

“Damn, girl. You got a pair of lungs on you.”

Heck, now I’d scared Rocky. He’d run to the corner of the room. A sob welled up in my throat as I tried to get my fear under control.

“H-h-hey, boy. I’m so s-s-sorry. It’s okay.”

I tried to get up and walk to him, but sudden dizziness nixed that idea and I fell back onto the bed. The bed. Why was there a bed here? A four-poster bed with embroidered drapes hanging at the sides? A bed fit for a queen.

A queen.

Oh, fuck.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

I took in the rest of the room. The only windows were high up and too small to wriggle through, although someone had painted murals on the side walls in an attempt at a view. Desert to the left, a river with sailboats to the right. Fake vines hung down in one corner. There were nightstands holding ornate urns on either side of the bed, and a potted palm to my right that might have been real.

It was a prison.

A fancy prison.

A fancy fake Egyptian prison.

Kacie… Michelle…. Those names were vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t quite think where I’d heard them. Memories skittered out of reach when I tried to focus.

“What’s through there?” I asked, nodding toward two doorways in the opposite wall, the one with the hieroglyphics.

“The bathroom—or as he calls it, the bathing chamber—the living room, and our bedroom.”

“Sleeping chamber,” Kacie corrected.

“Whatever. The man’s on crack.”

“What man?” Terror pooled in my belly because I already knew the answer. How had he gotten to me? How had he taken me out of the hotel? The last thing I remembered was eating breakfast with Rocky. We’d shared croissants, not the chocolate ones because those were bad for dogs, and then I felt weirdly tired, so I’d gone to lie down for a minute or two. Probably because I’d been awake half the night worrying about Ryder and whatever he was?—

Ryder.

Had anyone even noticed I was missing? Because he was gonna lose his mind when he found out.

“His name is Mark,” Kacie offered. “He said you’re his wife?”

“No, no, no. No way.”

Michelle shook her head. “You got that wrong. He said she was his wife. The freak thinks he’s Mark Antony and she’s Queen Cleopatra.”

“He’s been writing me notes. Sending me dinner every night and leaving gifts. I think…I think he kidnapped me from my hotel suite.”

“You didn’t lock the damn door?”

“No, I did. I always do. And there was security at the end of the hallway, but…but… I don’t know what happened. My boyfriend took a trip, so I was on my own.” My head was so fuzzy. “Why are you here? I mean, does he think you’ve also been recar…rinate…reborn?”

“Hell no. We’re meant to serve you. And I’ll tell you now, I ain’t being no slave. They abolished that shit two damn centuries ago.”

“I don’t want servants. We need to get out of here.”

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