Page 68 of The Devil Went Down to Laughlin
“Help me pull it up,” the half angel said, and Caleb knelt as well so he could lift the square of flat carpet out of the way.
Sure enough, below the concealing square was a metal door with a recessed handle in the middle. If anyone had walked directly across it, they might have sensed a slight depression in the floor, and yet Caleb had the feeling that not many people even came to this level beneath the hotel.
He began to reach for the handle, but Ty laid warning fingers on his forearm.
“Not yet,” he said, and Caleb sent him an annoyed look.
“I thought the whole point of this little expedition was to locate the tunnel that leads to the energy point.”
“And we have,” Ty replied calmly.
Caleb wasn’t all that convinced. “We found a door in the floor. I wouldn’t exactly call that incontrovertible proof that it connects to the spot we’re looking for.”
“Oh, it is,” Ty said. “I can feel it. The tunnel heads east for about twenty or thirty feet and ends in an open space. I’m sure that’s where we’ll find Delia…when the time comes.”
“And you got all that from just touching a door handle?”
“I did.” He reached over and took hold of the square of carpet they’d just removed, then slid it back into place and ran a glowing finger all around its edges. Once he was done, you couldn’t tell it was any different from the rest of the dark gray indoor/outdoor carpet that covered the floors in this sublevel. “The more we tamper with this, the greater the chance that August Sellers might be able to detect that someone was here and found his secret passageway. Much better to go back to the hotel room and wait it out.”
That plan sounded awfully anticlimactic, but Caleb had to reluctantly agree that Ty was right. The longer they hung around here, the more risk they ran of someone coming along and discovering a couple of interlopers in a place where they had no business being.
And when he glanced down at his watch, he realized they’d spent more time down here than he’d thought, since it was now almost four o’clock. Still a good ways to go until nightfall, especially at this time of year, but it could have been worse.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go back.”
It was getting dark, Delia realized as she went to the window to look out and see what the world was doing. She’d spent most of the afternoon watching TV, although she’d gotten up and done some yoga poses in between shows, just enough to keep her blood flowing and her body ready for whatever might come next. From time to time, she’d gone to the door and pounded and yelled — not because she thought it was going to do any good, but more because she refused to give up that easily.
And when she’d gone into the bathroom one time, she’d come back out to see that the room service cart with its uneaten lunch had vanished as mysteriously as it had appeared.
Right now, she was sort of regretting that decision, since snacking on nuts and crackers and even some wedges of Laughing Cow hadn’t been enough to really quell the gnawing hunger inside her. After all, it had been more than twenty-four hours since she’d eaten any real food.
Well, it couldn’t be helped now. The sun had disappeared past the western horizon, and the lights from the casinos shimmered across the dark waters of the Colorado River. It should have been a beautiful sight, but for some reason, Delia shivered and pulled the drapes shut again.
When she turned around, a strange man was standing in the middle of the room.
He was very tall, maybe as much as six feet four, and also thin, his black suit seeming to hang on his nearly skeletal form. Pale hair was pulled away from his angular face and bound into a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck.
And the eyes that met hers had a reddish glow in them, telling her he wasn’t quite as human as he appeared.
“Hello, Delia,” he said, casual as though they’d just run into each other at a cocktail party. “It is time.”
Those words made an additional frisson of fear run down her spine, but she lifted her chin and met his gaze as squarely as she could. “Time for what?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” he replied. “You need to get changed.”
She looked down at the wrinkled jeans and sleeveless top she wore. Yes, she’d taken a quick shower earlier and done what she could to finger-comb her hair, but she was still a rumpled mess.
However, she couldn’t figure out why the stranger…clearly a demon in human guise…gave a damn what she looked like.
“Who are you?” Delia asked. She didn’t think he’d provide her with a straight answer, but it seemed kind of rude that he knew her name and she had no idea who he was.
“You may call me August,” he said. “Now, go change. The gown is hanging in the closet. I will wait out here.”
After delivering that command, he went over to the desk, which was placed a few feet away from the dresser, and sat down on the chair placed in front of it.
What would he do if she refused?
Judging by the flicker of red she’d glimpsed in his eyes, nothing good.
