Page 19 of Wicked Royals
The man turned slightly to the left to nod at one of the nurses. She flipped through some papers on a clipboard before handing it to him. With a start, I realized who he was.Chuck Thorne.Logan’sfather.
I could’ve sworn he was still at the party when I sneaked out earlier, but it was definitely him. I’d recognize that arrogant chin, hooked nose, and swept-back dark hairanywhere.
I closed my eyes and shrank back slightly, certain I was dreaming. This place was already crazy enough from what I’d seen so far, and now Chuck Thorne was here assisting in a birth? Noway…
This isn’t real. I hit my head in the tunnel and now I’m seeing things,I told myself, taking a deep breath. When I opened my eyes, I was sure I’d snap out of the dreamlike state and find myself back in the cold darkness, but everything was still thesame.
“Let’s go over the paperwork again, before you have another contraction,” Chuck said, handing the clipboard to the heavily-pregnant woman. “I want to know you’resure.”
She waved him away. “I read it five times and I have a degree in contract law. I’m sure.” She gritted her teeth and went on. “If I don’t get what I want, you’re on the hook for five milliondollars.”
Chuck nodded. “That’s right. But don’t worry, Angela. Your career path is set in stone now that you’ve signed. You’ll get everything youwant.”
The woman closed her eyes and let out another wail. One of the doctors stepped over to her with a syringe, and the other glanced toward the door, seemingly sensing my presence. I shrank back even farther into the hall, but it was too late. She’d spottedme.
She strode over and glared at me. “What the hell are you doing in this wing?” she asked. “You should be at the party, not lurking around here like some sort of perverted voyeur. This woman is giving birth! Have somerespect.”
“I…”
“God, Amy, how much have you had to drink tonight?” she went on, narrowing her eyes as she took in my messy hair and rumpleddress.
With a jolt, I realized who she thought I was—Amy Kensington. She was the twenty-five-year-old daughter of the current US Secretary of State, and like me, she was tall with long auburnhair.
The doctor was obviously a member of the clandestine group that owned and operated this place, and apparently, so was Amy. With the mask covering half my face, I passed forher.
“I needed the bathroom, and I got turned around,” I mumbled, hoping my voice wouldn’t give meaway.
The doctor rolled her eyes. “You went down the wrong hall,” she snapped. “And Christ, what happened to yourarm?”
“Ifell.”
“Wow, you reallyaredrunk.” She sniffed derisively and grabbed the door handle, getting ready to shut it. “Off you go. By the way, find some way to tell your mother that my husband wants a word about the State Departmentjob.”
“Sure.”
I fled back down the hall and went through another arched doorway leading out of the foyer. The first door on the left of the new hall opened up to an elaborate bathroom. With a relieved sigh, I stepped over to a basin and washed my arm. There was only one small cut near my elbow, but it had produced a lot ofblood.
Once I’d dried the cut and covered it with one of the bandages, I took off my mask and gazed in the mirror. I looked like hell. My eyes were ringed with ugly black smudges from where my makeup ran earlier, and my hair was sticking up every whichway.
After fixing myself up with the makeup and comb I kept in my clutch, I put the mask on and headed back to the party room. At some point, someone would get tired and want to leave. When that happened, I could follow them out and find my way home without getting in trouble by revealing myself as atrespasser.
Until then, I planned to sit near the bar and blend in as much aspossible.
I took a seat on a leather-bound stool near the bar, and the same waitress from earlier approached me. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but you seem to have had a rough night so far,” she said in a sympathetic tone, nodding toward my bandaged arm. “Would you like an espresso martini? It’ll perk you rightup.”
“I’d love one.Thanks.”
She smiled and went off to make my drink. While I waited, I retrieved my phone from my clutch and turned it on again. It had just occurred to me that a place like this would probably have cell service, even if the rest of the tunnelsdidn’t.
I was right. As soon as I switched the screen on, I saw a barrage of text messages fromMarissa.
10:25 -I can’t believe you ditched us. Where the hell areyou?
10:27 -Seriously, it’s not funny! We could’ve gotten lost in thosetunnels!
10:28 –You’re such a bitch. Grow the fuckup.
10:30 –If you don’t answer soon, we’re gonna leave and go clubbing withoutyou.
