Centaur Rivalry (Touched Series Book 3) (17 page)

(Jessica Baker, Las Vegas, Nevada)

None of us sat together on the flight, which was a relief.  I worried I’d be bombarded by questions from Katherine about what had happened at the gas station with Daniel.  She had regained her strength by the time we arrived in Omaha.  Daniel’s Chap Stick stunt had taken me off guard, so much so that I didn’t react. . . I couldn’t react.  The remainder of the trip to Omaha, other than our brief detour with the state trooper, he chatted with Gage as if nothing had happened.

Centaurs didn’t just kiss Centaurides.  It wasn’t done.  Reality set in that no matter how charming Daniel was – he wasn’t a Centaur. . . at least not one my family would entertain my choosing.
  Even if he were a pure-blood, I would never choose a mate that was so brazen, so shameless, so . . . Daniel.

I
hadn’t wanted to sit by Daniel on the plane, either.  I didn’t want to sit next to his cocky personality, or his flirtatious comments, or him.  When we were waiting to board our plane in Omaha, something was bothering him – a lot.  At first I thought it was me, that he was just deep enough to understand the turmoil he’d created in me.  But Daniel grew up around humans and was oblivious as to how loudly his thoughts were broadcast.  He wasn’t at all remorseful for the embarrassment he’d caused me.  The sadness in his eyes was only the first clue:  it was the ache in his heart and his thoughts of losing Camille that clouded his disposition.

Why had he kissed me?  Why had he done it in front of everyone?  And why did he do it when I wasn’t the one he wanted to kiss? 
The flight to Las Vegas had been a welcomed break.  It was a chance to come to terms with what I had just done as well as the second guessing and obsessing about Daniel.

By now Roscoe would know I’d disappeared
.  My mother was no doubt already trying to locate me.  Would she be able to follow us?  She had always been able to find me, but I’d never purposely evaded her.  I was never gone from her for too long.  When I was with Katherine, I had always made it a point to call her so she knew where I was – so she never had a reason to ban me from spending time with her.

After Roscoe killed Gayle
, it was hard to face Katherine.  The three of us had been so close – three peas in a pod.  Katherine understood Centaur justice at a theoretical level, but after losing Gayle, the implications of it were raw and painful.  She was powerless.  We were powerless.  Mom provided no comfort to either of us, just the threat that she’d make me regret it if I ever got out of line the way Gayle had.

I knew several Centaurs in our community that were nearly aged out of eligibility. 
Up until now, it was just the threat that she could promise me to one of them that had kept me from disappearing.  Now that I’d bolted, she’d surely have promised me to one of them.  Goose bumps erupted on my skin at the thought.  Ralph with his horrible hygiene, Jimmy with his disgusting thoughts broadcast for the world to see, or Spencer, the one who had anger issues – I could already be promised to any of the three right now as punishment for my abrupt departure.

The night Roscoe was brought home from
his raid on the farmhouse was my first real ray of hope.  Roscoe was the lead enforcer for our region – I couldn’t understand what had happened to him.  He was bruised, broken and bloody – ranting into the phone to whomever he reported to.  Someone had gotten the better of him.  Roscoe kept saying it was a Centaur Warrior; it wasn’t until he’d shown Mom and me a hoof mark on his stomach that I understood what had happened.

I’d dug into his thoughts, something I rarely did for fear Mom would learn how powerful I had become, and saw the image of Drake in his mind.  I couldn’t be sure if it was true or something his mind “believed” it had seen, but for the first time, ever, Roscoe didn’t have the upper hand on someone.

Last night when Camille wandered into my bar, I didn’t know what to do – I wanted to try to dig through her thoughts to see if the image of Drake from Roscoe’s memory was reality.  I couldn’t take the chance of asking her directly and having her head for the hills.  When Roscoe showed up right before closing, I worried my one ray of hope was going to be extinguished before my very eyes.  Thankfully, everyone else needed us as much as we needed them last night.

When we made our travel plans this morning
, I wanted Katherine and me to stay with Camille and Drake – but it wouldn’t have been possible to get my passport without going home to get it.  I couldn’t risk it, and we couldn’t risk them staying in South Dakota any longer.

Katherine
could keep me hidden, but Drake could keep us all safe.  Seeing him in Katherine’s entryway last night had left me speechless.  Roscoe hadn’t been wrong.  Drake was enormous.  Strength emanated from him.

“What’ll it be?  Gambling first?  Maybe a show?”  Daniel’s voice brought me back to reality.  I’d been standing by the baggage carousel lost in my own thoughts.  I didn’t realize the other three were waiting on me.

Katherine answered, “Let’s find a place to stay first.  Something mid-scale:  not Motel 6 and nothing ostentatious where other Centaurs may be staying – think: blending in.”

Daniel turn
ed on his heel and headed for the door, “I know the perfect place.”

That was just like him.  Taking charge, no discussion
, no consideration for anyone else – it infuriated me.  He might as well have been a pure-blooded Centaur.  I looked at Katherine to see if she would call him back; instead she reached for the handle of her suitcase, shrugged her shoulders, and followed him out into the sunlight.

We emerged from the airport and shed our winter coats.  The sun sh
one brightly off the awaiting taxi cabs’ windshields.  Fumbling in my purse, I dug deep to find my sunglasses.  It had been a quick direct flight from Omaha, and I knew the weather would be a welcomed change, but the bright late-day sun was a surprise.

He had already flagged down a
hotel shuttle and was hefting our bags into the luggage rack.  The MGM?  Did he not listen to a word Katherine said?  One day.  That was it, one day and Katherine and I would be on our way somewhere else.  Daniel was putting us all at risk, and this seemed to be one big joke to him.

As we piled into the shuttle,
I tried to hold onto my frustration toward Daniel and his ill-thought through plan.  As we drove, the excitement of the city got the better of me.  Las Vegas was just as over-the-top as I’d expected.  Palm trees seemed to flank every hotel, people were crammed on every street corner, and the roads were choked by more limousines than I’d seen in my whole life.

The shuttle
deposited us at the curb outside the hotel.  The photographs I’d seen of it didn’t do it justice.  It was enormous, with bright lights framing its outline just coming on as the sun began to set.  A brilliant marquee advertised shows, restaurant specials, and welcomed a wedding party.

Before
we’d moved off the sidewalk, Katherine’s frustration spilled out of her, “Not what we were looking for, Daniel.”

He smirked, “Don’t worry.  I’ve got this covered
; I’ve been here tons of times.  We’ll blend in no problem.”

We had all taken as much cash out of our bank accounts as the ATM would allow at the airport
in Nebraska.  No one seemed too worried about being traced to Omaha since we didn’t stay there, but we needed to be cash only while we were here.

Daniel walked straight up to the registration desk while the three of us stayed back a few feet desperately trying not to make eye contact with anyone.  In a friendly tone the clerk said, “Hello, I’m Bryan
.  Do you have a reservation with us?”

Daniel answered in a loud whisper, “Keep your voice down.  I’m here with Jessica Baker’s party – we’
re in one of your Sky Lofts.”

I froze.  He’d just used my real name.  Was he an idiot?  We didn’t have a reser
vation, and what the hell was a Sky Loft?

The clerk started tapping keys on the keyboard then looked up in an apologetic way,
“I’m sorry, sir, I’m not showing a reservation for a Jessica Baker.”

“You’re new, aren’t you?  Check under Mickey Mouse.”

The clerk’s fingers whizzed over his keyboard, “I’m sorry, sir.  I’m not finding a reservation under either name, and all our Sky Lofts are booked.”

Daniel’s voice sounded angry,
“Dammit, Katherine!”  He turned back toward us, “Jessica, I’m sorry.  This is the third time.  I want her fired.”  He pointed an accusing finger at Katherine, “How do you intend to deal with the Paparazzi?  She has a release in two weeks.  This was to be her break before her media frenzy, and you’ve screwed it up again.  If they don’t have our room ready, how much do you want to bet they don’t have the security detail, either?”

Katherine
’s eyes were the size of quarters.  She was stunned speechless.  I couldn’t understand what he was up to, and Brent stood just a few feet away with the same dumbfounded look.

Turning back toward the desk clerk
, Daniel’s tone changed, “My apologies, Bryan.  The mix-up was with our publicist’s inability to coordinate the simplest request.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to move some people around.  We require a Sky Loft for the next week and a four person security detail.”

The desk clerk’s eyes grew to the size of
Katherine’s although he somehow maintained his ability to speak.  “Um, I just check people in.  We don’t have any Sky Lofts available, but we have some very nice adjoining suites.”  The enormous smile he plastered on his face did nothing to hide the clerk’s nervousness.

In a seriously condescending voice, Daniel answered, “I’m sorry.  This is not your fault.  Could you have the hotel manager come help us?”

My heart stopped.  We were probably on a surveillance feed right now.  Our pictures would be broadcast on the evening news when we were taken away in handcuffs.  How long would it take for enforcers to collect us?  An hour, maybe two?  I stepped forward and took Daniel’s arm, “It’s fine.  Let’s just go.”

He turned toward me in a flourish, “Ms. Baker, I can’t have you walking the streets.  What would the studio say?  You get mobbed two weeks before their premiere and who would be held accountable?  Me
– that’s who.  No.  I’m certain the hotel manager will be able to fix this in a jiffy.”  He patted my hand that was still cinched tight on his arm in a dismissive way and turned back toward the counter.

As if on cue, a nicely dressed man with an expensive suit and impeccably manicured nails
eased his way up next to the desk clerk.  I was right, there was surely a panic button behind the desk, and it would be a matter of minutes before the police arrived.  I was mortified.  How were we going to get out of this one?  I looked at Katherine and Brent:  both wore the same “deer in the headlights” look.

Daniel leaned in across the marble counter and whispered quietly to the man I had to assume was the hotel manager.  He wore no name tag but glanced in my direction several times while Daniel continued with some enormous lie about me being a Hollywood
movie star.  I couldn’t hear everything said because Daniel was speaking so quietly.  I tried to concentrate on the conversation, giving up my attempt to hear their words and focusing on the hotel manager’s thoughts.

Adrenaline pumped freely through my body
:  anger at Daniel for pulling such a stupid stunt, fear that in a matter of hours I’d be back in South Dakota.  If that happened, I’d be lucky to just be under lock and key.  The anger and fear gave way to rage that he could be so obtuse about the whole situation.  The adrenaline interfered with my concentration, and it was a full minute before I could calm down enough to get a clear read on the hotel manager’s thoughts.

My anger, fear and rage melted into astonishment in that second. 
He believed Daniel.  How could it be?  I wasn’t a movie star.  I was a big fat nobody.  I continued watching the hotel manager, waiting for him to realize this was just a horrific prank – he didn’t.

Instead he motioned for the desk clerk to move to the side and took charge of the reservation computer.  I heard his fingers type hard on the keys and then answered, “Miss Baker, ah, I’ve found your reservation.  We’re so pleased to have you staying with us this week.  My name is Malcolm
, and if there is anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let me know.”

I had to speak.  I had to say something.  Words
eluded me.  He hadn’t called the police.  We weren’t being shown to the curb.  How did Daniel pull that off?  “Uh, thank you. . . Malcolm.  I will.”

“Very good, Miss Baker.
”  Malcolm whispered conspiratorially, “We understand your need for discretion.  We would love to see you take advantage of our amenities.  Could I schedule you for a complimentary spa treatment?”

Daniel jumped in before I could answer, “You don’t mean in the spa
with your other guests?”

“Oh, of course not
, sir!  If Ms. Baker would like to choose a time, we’ll have our staff come to her room.”

Daniel nodded, “Excellent.  Yes, if you could have your staff stop by tomorrow, say about 11 a
.m.?  And we’ll need security posted outside our door.”