What Happens in Vegas...After Dark (39 page)

“Elena, you’re here.”

Elena’s head snapped up from where she’d bowed it in defeat and she whirled around.

“Mother.”

Her mother swept into the room. “Loren has arrived. He’s in the kitchen with Cook.

You should go see to him before your father decides to have him poisoned.” She waved her hand dismissively, as if she didn’t care one way or the other.

Loren. Her very first boyfriend. Her first “love” or at least that’s what she’d considered him back then, despite being promised to Reynolds.

“Where’s Damian?”

Her mother frowned. “Who is Damian, darling? Gods, I hope you haven’t picked up another commoner stray—your father wil have an apoplexy.”

“What kind of test is this? It’s so strange.”

“Test, dear?” said her mother, idly arranging the fresh-cut flowers in the vase on a nearby table.

“Test for the hae ilyium,” she mumbled.

Her mother turned. “The hae ilyium! How wonderfully romantic. As for the test that goes with it, I’ve heard it’s always something that looks into your heart, pulls out your greatest fears or failures and then bats you about the head with them.”

Bats you about the head…well, that was for sure.

“I’ll go see to Loren, then.”

“You do that, dear.”

Her feet felt heavy as she picked her way past her brother, still sprawled and whimpering in the hallway. Gods, she hoped she wasn’t stuck here. The thought made her miss a step.

She walked down the stairs to the main floor, and glimpsed workmen in the grand foyer, up on a ladder and adjusting the chandelier.

Wait a minute. She stopped on a stair. She knew what was about to happen because she’d lived this day before. Now she remembered—her brother falling in the hallway, the chandelier…

“Hey, stop guys!” she yelled. “Make sure the piece on the right is holding properly.

My…er…intuition is tel ing me it’s loose.”

One of the workmen took a look. “Yes, you were right. Thanks!”

“Not a problem. All in a day’s work for a faery princess.”

The workman laughed.

Once upon a time the piece had fallen and smashed on the marble flooring. She remembered it vividly because that was the day her father had…

“Oh, no, Daddy!” She hastened down the stairs toward the kitchen.

She burst into the kitchen to find her father bellowing at Loren, who appeared absolutely terrified.

Elena stopped short, remembering how she’d cowered right along with Loren in the face of her father’s wrath, while inwardly seething about her lack of choices.

“I won’t have you courting my daughter!” the king yelled. “You have no royal fae blood!

Get out of my house immediately and never return!”

Loren’s green gaze flicked to her and then at the door. “Of course, my king.”

Back then, on the day that Elena remembered, she’d looked on in horror as her father had banished Loren from the house and put an end to all her dating (except those of royal blood) until she’d been an adult. She remembered how sick and helpless she’d felt in the face of her father’s iron-fisted rule.

Elena had acquiesced back then. She’d submitted.

Not today.

Rage erupted from Elena. She clenched her fists and stalked up to her father. She’d changed the fate of the chandelier; maybe she could change her reaction to her father, too. It was past time she found her voice. If she had a chance to relive part of her past, she might as wel do it right.

“Daddy, back off!” She marched up to her father and stood in front of him. The king looked at her as if she’d grown another head. “I like Loren and I want to date him. I don’t care that he doesn’t have royal blood! Frankly, every boy I’ve ever met with royal blood has been an egoistical ass—er—jerk who isn’t worth a damn and who never treats me right. What do you care about more, Daddy? The preservation of your precious bloodline or your eldest daughter’s happiness?”

The king sputtered. Loren had pressed himself up against the kitchen wall.

“You know the tradition, Elena,” her father finally forced out. “You know our need to preserve the ancient bloodlines.”

“On that, I cry bullsh—er—bull hockey! What’s so special about royal blood? As far as I can see, fae is fae. We all have magic, so who cares about bloodline? I know lots of fae with magic stronger than the royal line, anyway. Stop being such a stuck-up elitist.”

The king sucked in a breath of surprise.

“I want to open a pottery business!” she declared. Where the hell had that come from?

“And I want to marry who I want!”

The king sputtered again.

“The bottom line is, do you love me, Daddy?”

“Of—of course I do.”

“Then stop smothering me and dictating my life. Allow me and your other children to make their own choices. I guarantee they’ll respect you more for it and they’ll all make you proud.”

Her father remained mute for several moments. “I don’t know what to say, Elena.”

“Say you’ll consider what I said.”

“I wil …consider it.”

Elena smiled, feeling more satisfied with herself than she had in a long time. Maybe her father would dismiss her concerns and go back to his old ways, but at least she’d stood up to him and said her piece.

Then she remembered that she was stil trapped in the past and she’d already lived al of this. She remembered the test.

Pop.

She dropped to the floor and everything went black.

Damian staggered forward and fell to his knees. When he looked up, his heart skipped a beat.

Cassidy, beautiful, perfect Cassidy Williams—his ex-fiancée—stared down at him. “Are you all right?”

He pushed to his feet and became aware of the tinging and pinging of slot machines around him. Oh, hell, he was back at Gold Diggers. He was even wearing his work uniform. “Cassidy,” he blurted. “Are you al right?”

She lifted a perfectly shaped golden brow. “Yessss, you’re the one who tripped, Damian.”

He glanced around in panic for Elena. What the hell? Was this the test?

Oh, gods, he was back in his old life!

His attention snapped to his open hand, where he tried to spindle a little magic. It didn’t come. He didn’t even get a tingle. Nothing. It was gone.

Had it ever been real?

Horror tightened a cold fist in his stomach. Was he trapped back here? Was he destined to relive this part of his life over? Was that his test? If so, maybe he wouldn’t be inducted this time and he’d be forced to live his life as a round peg trying to valiantly fit into a square hole.

Even more horrifying was the notion that perhaps Darkness, Elena, and the fae didn’t exist at all. Maybe he’d dreamed it as a reaction to wedding stress. Maybe he had a brain tumor. Maybe he was in a coma and his body was lying in some hospital bed right now while he dreamed all this!

Delusion. That was the only possible explanation. Or a psychotic break.

“Why are you staring at your hand?” Cassidy asked, linking her arm with his. “And why do you look so disturbed all of a sudden?”

“Uh.” What had he just been thinking about? All of a sudden everything having to do with Elena and Darkness…the fae, it all seemed so hazy and unreal. Like a dream.

Fading…

Gone.

“Damian…Damian?” Cassidy shook his shoulder. “You’re starting to freak me out.

Why the hell are you staring at your palm?”

Yes, why was he looking at his palm? And what had he just been thinking about? He frowned, and then shook his head. “I think I’m going crazy. I can’t remember the last two minutes of my life.”

Cassidy laughed. “You had too much to drink last night, is al . Come on, we’ll be late clocking in if we don’t hurry.”

Oh, yeah, that’s right. They’d been out with James and their friends last night, down at a bar on the Strip. They had drunk a lot and he did have a bit of a headache. Maybe that accounted for stopping like an imbecile in the middle of the casino and staring at his palm for a full minute.

They clocked in. They worked their shifts. It was a day like any other day.

And then, after he and Cassidy had clocked out, he saw her.

Damian stopped short and stared at a woman sitting at one of the casino bars with a man. She seemed so familiar, so…beloved. How strange. The way she tipped her head to the side and smiled, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulder, it reminded him of something. What was it about her that resonated in his blood? It was almost as if he could remember what her creamy skin tasted like, how it felt under his lips and hands.

“Damian.”

He snapped out of the second daze he’d found himself that day. “Sorry.” Damian shook his head and laughed. “Me and Jack Daniel’s have parted ways for good. I better never drink again. Tonight I’m going straight home to sleep.”

“That’s good, since tomorrow is al about wedding planning. You said you’d come over so we could decide some stuff, remember?”

The wedding. Yes. It never fully left his mind. Cassidy was a wonderful woman, perfect.

Beautiful, intelligent, funny. He had absolutely no reason to want to break it off with her.

Hel , that’s how he’d ended up proposing to her. They’d reached that part in their relationship where The Question had been the only place to go and he’d had no concrete reason to end the relationship.

Maybe he feared being alone. Maybe that was the real reason he’d asked her to marry him. And yet, it wasn’t fair to Cassidy. He didn’t love her like he should.

That had been on his mind a lot lately. What if there was a man out there who could love her better? Cassidy needed that.

Cassidy deserved that.

Damian stopped in the hallway of the casino and let the truth of that crash into him.

There was no denying it. He was doing Cassidy, and himself, wrong.

It was time to make things right.

“The wedding, yes.” He took her hand and walked toward the door of the casino. “Do you have time to talk?”

She tipped her head to the side and smiled. “Sure.”

“Great.”

This was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“What if I told you that marrying me would be the biggest mistake you’d ever make?”

Cassidy tipped her head to the side, the warm evening breeze playing with tendrils of the blond hair curling around her pretty face. She smiled a little sadly. “I’d say you were being silly.” Her voice was a little tight.

Tread carefully.

“You may think I’m being silly now, from this vantage point, but what if a year from now you meet a man who is far more suitable than I am, Cassidy? Someone you’d be happier with, who would love you better than I ever could?”

Cassidy stared hard at him. “Are you breaking up with me, Damian?”

Damian swallowed the lump in his throat. His fear rose. God, he didn’t want to hurt Cassidy. Maybe it would be better to just go on the way they had been. After all, he had no concrete reason to not want to spend his life with her. Any man would—should—be thrilled to have Cassidy as his wife.

Any man but him.

Oh, sure, there could be a comfortable, lukewarm marriage. They would be happy, but not deliriously so. He wouldn’t be alone. But that would be selfish of him, no matter how painful doing this now might be.

He had to do this. So, maybe it was better to do it fast, like pul ing off a Band-Aid.

She’d heal and be the stronger for it in the long run.

“I am, Cassidy.”

Her eyes went wide and her face pale. Damian’s heart lurched in his chest. He plunged ahead. “I know you won’t believe me, but I’m breaking up with you because I care about you. I want you to have a man who’s right for you. I want you to have a strong and everlasting love. I know that person is out there somewhere for you, Cassidy. I can feel it in this odd intuitive way.” He paused. “That person is not me.”

“You care about me, but you don’t love me?” She sounded completely shocked.

“I do love you, Cassidy. I just don’t love you enough.”

She stared at him in stunned horror for several seconds, then she simply turned and stalked off down the sidewalk.

Damian watched her go. A vise of misery slowly constricted around his chest. In a way, he was relieved. He’d known he’d had to do that and now it was done. At the same time, now he was alone.

He shifted his gaze to the Strip, where cars and buses whizzed by. Damn it. He’d done the right thing for Cassidy, even though she didn’t see it that way right now. But had he done the right thing for himself?

The doors of the casino opened and the woman from the bar exited. Damian watched her, frowning and trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar. Something about her drew him so strongly, almost as if like called to like. Fuck, he was stupid. He’d just broken off his engagement. Now was hardly the time to be watching other women.

The lady stepped out into the street to hail a cab…right in front of a bus.

Damian didn’t think about it, he just acted. Somewhere deep in his heart, he knew he couldn’t watch this woman die, no matter what it cost him. He dove from the sidewalk and into the street, crashing into her and pushing her forward hard, out of the way of the bus.

Damian hit the asphalt. Tires screeched. The gril of the bus came toward him.

Searing pain. Breaking bones. Exploding organs.

Blackness.

Damian’s eyes came open. He lay on his back in the grass, staring up at the night sky.

His breathing came shallow as memory flooded his mind. He wasn’t dead. He’d just been tested.

“What…the…fuck?” he shouted.

Near him someone moaned. Elena.

He turned on his side and saw her lying about four feet away. His arms ached to hold her. It was all he could think of. He crawled to her and took her into his arms. She fought him for a moment, seemingly disoriented, then recognized him and tucked herself against him, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck.

Damian closed his eyes and sighed in absolute relief. Thank God it hadn’t been real.

Thank God he wasn’t stuck back in the past, his memory erased…without Elena.