Page 29 of Curses & Keys (Curses & Gods #1)

PHAEDRA

T his is killing him. Face set, arms crossed, he stands stiffly just inside the door as if death is waiting to greet him instead of a luxurious suite in the poshest of hotels.

I stifle the laugh in my throat. Honestly, he’s done better than I expected.

From what I gather, he takes his security role very seriously, and giving up control to a…

suspicious… Ahem… unknown supernatural who hasn’t proven her loyalty is pure torture.

The doors open to reveal an elegant foyer and sitting room.

In creams and deep browns, the room exudes a quiet luxury that makes me want to sink into the plump sofa with a sigh.

Every piece of furniture is designed with a sophisticated eye.

There’s nothing traditional or stuffy about this hotel.

The bank of windows, flanked by thick curtains, allows copious amounts of sunlight into the room.

Sumptuous fabrics and wood floors give hints of warmth and coziness.

I take a step forward, but his arm stops me.

“Let me at least make sure it’s secure,” he growls, drawing the weapon I gave him earlier.

I motion for him to proceed and lean against the elevator door to keep it open. Roughly thirty seconds later, he returns and gives me a curt nod.

“All clear,” he informs me, watching as I walk into the room, letting the elevator doors close behind me.

“Thanks for checking,” I tell him, meaning it. He’s right. I should always check. The tension eases a bit from his shoulders.

On the small table in the sitting room are a bottle of wine, some chocolates, and a familiar cream and gold envelope.

I pull out the card. “Our concierge’s name is Sheraton.

The room is soundproof. Make any calls you want but use the burner.

The hotel phone is only for the concierge. I’m going to grab a shower.”

His golden eyes flick to me, and he mumbles something about taking the first watch.

Leaving him to explore the security of the suite by himself, I head into the bathroom and shut the door.

My eyes close, and I slump against the door.

I hate taking portals. If it had just been me, I would have found a disguise that worked and slipped through the labyrinth of London’s city streets until I made it to one of Mercer’s safe houses and disappeared, but that wasn’t possible when toting around a beast of a man with flowing white-blond locks.

A flat cap can’t conceal that gorgeous hair.

Pushing away from the door, I strip down and step into the white marble tiled shower.

Water set to nuclear, I lavish the most extravagant body wash across my body and let the heat and water work their magic.

Soon, steam rises along with notes of bluebell and wild strawberry.

I close my eyes, inhaling and exhaling until the tension in my shoulders eases.

Then I wash and condition my hair until it’s as soft and sweet smelling as the rest of me.

Once out, I slip into the monogrammed robe and comb out my hair, then smooth on the body lotion. Now that I’m relaxed, all I can think about is getting something to eat. I walk into the living room.

He swivels around the second I enter the room. For a big guy, he moves quickly.

“I’m going to order some food. Do you want anything?” I ask him, picking up the hotel phone.

His eyes scan me from head to toe. “Steak—rare, potatoes. Please,” he gruffly replies.

I push the single button on the phone.

“Concierge, how may I be of assistance?” asks the smooth voice on the other end.

“Hello, Sheraton, I’d like to order the steak, rare, with potatoes, a BLT on toasted sourdough, and several bottles of water,” I tell him.

He confirms the order, then I add on one last request. “Can you also send up a selection of menswear, including shoes? Larger sizes, please. And clothes for myself too. My sizes are on file. Thank you.” I hang up.

He grimaces. “What? You don’t like my style? The double-decker buses are all the rage.”

My lips twitch. “Could be worse. You could have been traversing London naked.” The image of his buff golden body, stalking through the streets, slips into my mind. “Although I’m not sure anyone but you would have minded.”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t bother me.” Then he lifts a shoulder. “Although I wish I’d strapped on some more weapons before I left.”

“Mmm, I do feel naked when I’m not carrying,” I admit with a smirk. His golden eyes flare the tiniest bit. “Quite frankly, you barely flinched when I dragged you into an unknown portal.”

The corners of his eyes tighten. “Next time, warn me.” He crosses his arms. “What was that place? How did I not know about it? I’ve lived in London for centuries.”

“I’m not surprised. They don’t cater to the council or its representatives. Harlequin’s part of the underground,” I inform him. “They offer a myriad of services to supes in need… Provided they can pay the price, of course. Mercer, a friend of sorts, runs one of their divisions.”

Harlequin vets potential clients for years before they give them access to their headquarters to make sure they aren’t associated with the council.

Very few clients have seen the location we stopped at today.

I’ve only been there a handful of times.

Mercer was not happy I’d brought Gatlin there, but I didn’t really have a choice.

The elevator chimes, and I move toward it.

Gatlin tosses me a vicious scowl.

“Go for it,” I tell him with a shake of my head as he stalks over, gun in hand. I should give him a break. He’s been pushed out of his usual comfort zone today. Plus, he did watch the enemy destroy his house.

The elevator doors slide open, and the concierge’s wide smile fades the second he sees the massive male standing in front of him. “Good afternoon. I’m Sheraton, the concierge. I’ve brought up your request. Where would you like me to place the food and clothes?”

“You can place the tray here,” I tell him, motioning to the small table by the window where the bottle of wine sits. “Clothes in the bedroom.”

Gatlin sniffs the air, then stiffens. “Wolf?”

A tiny bit of arrogance crosses the man’s face, and he lifts his chin. “Yes. The Sharma pack owns the hotel.” He pushes the cart past Gatlin and grabs the tray of food. After placing the dishes and cutlery on the table, he rolls the rack of clothes and shoes into the bedroom. “Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you, Sheraton,” I say with a smile. When the doors close, I stalk over and glare up at him. “If you want to be rude and grumpy, go do it somewhere else. The Hari is one of my favorite places to stay in London, and I won’t have your suspicious nature ruining it for me. Got it?”

He gives me an incredulous look, then glances down at the finger jabbed into his chest. “My job is protecting this team, and I’ll do whatever I damn well think is best for your safety.” His eyes lock on mine. Reaching up, he takes my finger from his chest and captures it in his warm hand.

My eyes narrow, but I refuse to give him any satisfaction by jerking my hand from his. As the battle of wills continues, his body heat stretches across the space between us, making me flush.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to poke the bear?” he practically snarls.

I snort. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to get between a woman and her food?” When he continues to hold me close, I flick a stiletto out of my other sleeve and press it to his neck. My heart races as the tension builds between us. “We can become quite bloodthirsty when we’re hangry.”

He blinks in surprise, then a wide smile appears. “I was beginning to worry you had zero self-preservation. Nice little blade you got there.” Golden eyes begin to glow. “I don’t think you realize how tough a gryphon’s skin can be.”

The skin beneath the stiletto hardens until it’s almost impenetrable. I move the blade to somewhere more vulnerable and much further south and stare up at him, a challenge in my eyes. “Does that apply everywhere?”

His voice is husky when he steps closer. “Careful. I like to play too.”

My eyes widen at his innuendo, and a delicious shiver cascades down my spine. An image of his golden body covering mine makes me swallow. It’s been too long since I indulged myself, but my attraction to two of his team members already complicates things.

He must read the answer on my face because he slowly releases my hand. “Hungry?”

The stiletto disappears into the sleeve of my robe. “Starving.” Yet, I find myself unable to move away from the golden gleam in his eyes.

He leans in close and breathes in. “You smell a hell of a lot better than the wolf.”

“Another reason I like The Hari,” I warn him, forcing myself to step away from his mesmerizing eyes and walk over to the table. “You’d better eat before your steak gets cold.” I sit down and pick up my BLT and bring it to my lips. His eyes track my every move.

Seconds later, he prowls over and takes the seat across from me. After eating a few bites, he tilts his head. “Harlequin underground. Mysterious friends. The Hari. What other secrets are you hiding?”

I chuckle. “Those aren’t my secrets. I’m their client. There isn’t much in this world gold can’t buy.”

He nods in agreement, but the air is thick with undercurrents.

We eat in silence for a few minutes.

“Look. You and your team know more about me than the rest of the world. More than I’ve shared in centuries, in fact,” I offer, extending an olive branch.

“Which is very little,” he scoffs. “Why are you so evasive?”

“Why are you so nosy?” I counter, exasperated by his questioning.

He shrugs. “You’ll have to ask the Magi. It’s ingrained in me. Along with a lot of other traits they deemed necessary, like the role of protector.”

Hmm . Never thought about it from that angle.

“I never realized there were supernaturals here before the portals opened,” I admit to him. “Are there others?”

“Magic has existed since the dawn of time. Some humans were born with it. Demigods, of course. But regular humans too. The first were called The Magi, but over time, other names cropped up. Sorceress. Wizard. Witch. Eventually, the various names combined into one—mage.” He pauses, then his gaze turns speculative.

For a long second, he studies me. “In ancient times, some humans received powers as a gift or a curse.” He pauses. “That’s it, isn’t it? Your ‘gift’ comes from the gods. It’s why you don’t smell like any other supernatural race.”

I immediately hide my reaction. Well, shit.

This took a turn I probably shouldn’t have allowed.

Very few believe in the gods and even fewer believe they’re still around.

Of course, I would get stuck in a hotel with an ancient shifter.

His sharp gaze remains focused entirely on me, waiting for the answer he already knows.

Tired of the secrets and years of isolation, I cave a little. “I wasn’t born with magic.” It’s the only way I can answer without openly admitting my powers were given to me by the gods. I snort. They weren’t exactly a gift. Just a lesser punishment.

His eyes sweep the room around us as if looking for them. “I’m guessing you can’t talk about it?”

I finish my sandwich and meet his gaze, a clear message in my eyes. “I should have ordered dessert.”

He dips his chin. “Right.” He takes a bite of potatoes, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“I called Mathias while you were in the shower. He’s already presented the video to the council, but he’s waiting for Jamison to finish. Apparently, they aren’t happy with us.” He scoffs. “I’m not too fucking happy with them either.”

“How long have you worked for the council?” I ask tentatively, well aware I’ve evaded most of his questions.

“The Magi took the side of the supernaturals when the portals opened,” he replies with a faraway look in his eyes. “My service transitioned from them to the council, and I’ve been with them ever since.” He sighs heavily. “Maybe I’m overdue for a change.”

“I know how you feel,” I tell him, laying my hand on his. “Unfortunately, change isn’t always an option.” Even if the gods would allow me to “resign,” I wouldn’t. The cost is too high. I’d never find my sister.

The pity in his eyes is a bit too much for me.

“It sounds like Jamison and Mathias will be a while?”

Once he confirms, I stand and put the dishes on the cart for Sheraton to pick up. “I’m going to take a nap.”

He adds his plate to the pile. “Do you mind if I grab a shower?”

“Go ahead. It won’t bother me,” I assure him, adjusting the robe. “Let me put on some clothes first.”

As he takes the cart to the elevator, I slip into the bedroom and grab the matching lounge set off the hanging rack. Another reason I like to stay here. They always remember guest preferences. Comfy now, I return to the table.

“All done.”

He’s hesitates for a second, then moves toward the bedroom. “Don’t open the fucking elevator door to anyone. Not even the wolf. Got it?”

My lips twitch, but when he turns to see if I’m listening, I hold up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.” When he continues to stare at me, I say the words he needs to hear. “I promise I won’t let anyone in.”

His chin dips in a curt nod, and he turns toward the bedroom, pulling off that hideous shirt along the way.

Golden skin and an ocean of muscles are the last things I see. Damn, that man’s body is perfection.

He stops at the door, glances back, and cheekily winks.

I’m so surprised I snort at the sight. Embarrassed, I whip around and grab the bottle of wine and a glass, then plop down on the couch to pour myself a drink.

I’m not a damn teenager with her first crush.

A hazy image of a young man in a chiton, muscles on display, pops into my head.

Relieved to know I still remember him, I sigh.

Time is a warped path in my mind. Sometimes the years slip by at lightning speed; other times they drag on.

Seriously, though. When was the last time I found one male interesting, much less…

two? Maybe three? A long while. At least a century.

Most of the time, a night or two is enough before I’m ready to move on.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept with any of them.

Possible. Or perhaps it’s because I’m enjoying being with them.

Temporarily, of course , I remind myself.

It’s not as if this can go on forever. Even if I wish it would.