Page 63 of Dance of the Phoenix
“It’s all good,” CJ said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. I wondered how things were with Jada now. She’d come along as a spectator, and every time I glanced at her, I had to look away. Her misery was far too hard for me to process, given everything else that was going on.
That and the fact she requested that I kill her if things with CJ’s battle went awry.
Looking at CJ, who was now chatting about what would happen tomorrow, I wondered for the first time if I should tell him about Jada’s request. She was his soulmate, hisAlara Morreh, as Jada called it. I had a hunch that he would want to know.
But I knew this wasn’t my call, or even my business, really, so all I could hope for was that CJ survived and, consequently, Jada did too.
A few minutes later, all participants gathered in the lounge, and Margarita took us out of our League’s dormitory and back to the eerily dark corridor. The butler from before awaited us near a door on the inner wall, which led to yet another dark candlelit corridor that ended in a tall gate.
The moment I stepped beyond the gate, my jaw dropped. Before me was an actual honest-to-God Colosseum-like arena. Its floor was white marble, surrounded by multiple seats like an actual stadium.
Margarita raised her hand to draw our attention to her. “This is where the Hecatomb will take place,” she told us. “Take a few minutes to get accustomed to the feel of the arena, the floor, and everything else. Because after today, the next time you’ll set foot here will be for your battles.”
Everyone spread out then, looking around in wonder. I couldn’t help but stay in place, wondering about the marble floor. When I tapped my foot on it, it felt slippery. That wasn’t very safe. Didn’t arenas usually have sand?
“What do you think?” Zoey asked as she came to stand next to me, her eyes sparkling in excitement.
“This is going to be tricky,” I told her, and she turned to look at me in surprise. “The floor is far too clean and slippery. Your feet will have no grip in even the best of sneakers. But fighting a battle barefoot is also not optimal ...”
Zoey’s surprise faded into a chuckle. “You worry too much, Aileen,” she told me, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll all make it, slippery floor or not.”
I stared at her, even more worried by her confidence bordering on arrogance. I remembered the marble floor back in my father’s basement. A few girls had tried to escape—Tansy being the only successful one—and the one thing that got them was how slippery the floor was. It caused them to fall down, alerting my father to their attempts.
Crouching, I pressed my fingers to the floor and slid them across it. I grimaced when my fingers slipped, making me press my palm against the marble.
The bad, ominous feeling accompanied me all the way back to the residence, where I settled in my bunk bed, covered myself in the blanket, and wished it could be three days later already.
Chapter 33
Ragnor
Calling Alby’s a motel was quite the stretch. The old vine-wrapped building seemed more like a haunted house from horror movies than anything remotely close to being inhabitable by actual people.
Bracing himself, Ragnor pushed the almost-unhinged entrance door and went into the motel.
Surprisingly enough, the inside wasn’t as bad as the outside. Sure, it was dusty and in dire need of cleaning, but it was orderly, with a front desk staffed by a woman wearing a suit.
The woman peered at him as he approached the counter. “Vampire,” she drawled, startling Ragnor. “It’s been a while since I last saw one’a y’all.”
Sniffing the air, Ragnor realized why she knew what he was. “Nymph,” he said quietly, studying the woman’s face. She wasn’t pretty enough to be a tree nymph—aDryad—or a water nymph—aNaiad. Which left one option. “Of the Oreads, I believe.”
The nymph shot him a toothy smile that made her seem more like a goblin than an actual nymph. “Formerly,” she said, “but true. You must be one of them Lords, then.”
Ragnor decided to neither confirm nor deny, so instead, he said, “While seeing a nymph in the middle of an urban area is definitely an intriguing mystery, I’m here on business.”
She arched a brow. “Get on with it, then.”
“Point me to the direction of room two oh four.” Ragnor cut to the chase.
The nymph grinned. “That girl’s sure wild,” she cackled. “First, that hottie Malachi, and now a sexy Lord vamp. What a naughty girl.”
Losing his patience, Ragnor simply asked, “Well?”
She nodded toward the elevator doors near the counter. “Take those to the second floor,” she said and pushed an old rusty key toward him. “The room’s right there. The girl’s probably knocked out, so here ya go.”
Ragnor took the key, nodded to the nymph, and reluctantly approached the elevator. When he pressed the button, the elevator made odd sounds that made Ragnor think that perhaps he should take the stairs instead.
But he knew there was a reason the nymph had directed him to the elevator and nowhere else. Now that he was here, Ragnor realized this was one of those alleged “sanctuaries” for the supernatural. These places were rare, especially in large cities like Houston; they were usually hidden in the countryside or along abandoned roads, pretending to be normal inns.
