That wasn’t against the law, so I stuck with honest.
I colored up my chips minus a five for the dealer and stood up, the proud owner of two hundred and fifty-five dollars of my very own.
Sort of. If you didn’t count the fact that a hundred of it had been given to me because I’d put my ass in the air.
Fuck it. Iwasgoing to count that, because I’d damn well earned it. And I refused to be ashamed of it, right now, coasting on the high of having made some money of my own. Fucking gods, was this how Brook felt making multi-million-dollar deals? Did he get a rush from it? I’d always thought he was boring as hell for wanting to spend his time that way, but…maybe he got a thrill out of it, and he wasn’t so dull after all.
Maybe we could’ve had some things in common if our parents hadn’t encouraged us to hate each other.
And there went my good mood.
As I left the table, the rest of the casino came back into focus around me with a whoosh of sensory input: the players’ laughter and the dealers’ brisk calls, the distant dinging of slot machines, the cool, dry air, the tinge of cigarette smoke and cheap booze and sweat.
And the clacking of the roulette wheel, where the guy still stood, a couple of chips in his hand and his eyes darting back and forth between his bet and me.
So,sonot subtle.
Declan had told me not to leave the casino. Because he wanted to have me under the watchful electronic eyes of his surveillance system at all times, I’d assumed, and so that I wouldn’t try to get away from him.
But it struck me to wonder if he wanted me in the Morrigan because he thought I wouldn’t be safe outside of it. Now there was a thought, and it made the cold air in the casino feel downright chilly.
At the same time, claustrophobia hit me so hard I nearly doubled over. I felt trapped, confined within these labyrinthine walls and pressed on all sides by noise and people and furniture andwalls, with some weirdo watching me and creepy Walter around here somewhere and Declan not answering my text. It was like the other night, when I simply couldn’t stay in the building for one more minute and had to get out, and no rational thought about Declan’s reaction or about the danger I might be in could overcome it. I needed the sky. I needed fresh air, or I might keel over.
A side exit let out on the parking lot forty feet away, and I made a beeline for it, dodging cocktail waitresses and weaving around card tables. I could smell the outdoors even through the pervasive gritty odor of the casino.
One hard shove, and the glass door swung open. I closed my eyes for a second, inhaled deeply…and the scent of Declan MacKenna hit me upside the head.
Oh, shit.
I opened my eyes resignedly. Declan stood leaning casually against a pillar right across from me, hands in his pockets, a not-a-smile curling the corner of his mouth.
Chapter 13
I’m Going to Eat You
Declan opened his mouth, probably to say something snide about how he’d told me to stay in the Morrigan. And then I would’ve had to argue back that I was on the Morrigan’s property, thank you very much, not even all the way out the door, after which he might have reminded me that I’d been attacked on the Morrigan’s property already, and then I’d have had to say something about how Walter was a lying little bitch…
Yeah, I didn’t want to go there.
So I cut him off with, “If you were watching me enough to know where I was going, why didn’t you message back?” Another thought hit me. “And how the hell did you get out here before I did? Do you have a teleporter, for fuck’s sake?”
Declan shoved off the pillar with his shoulder, hands still in his pockets, his smile quirking higher. “You can’t expect me to give away all my secrets, Blake. Or expect me to get distracted by your bullshit from the fact that I’m pretty sure I gave you a couple of very simple instructions to follow. Do you remember what those were?”
For a second, I saw red. His tone had veered perilously close to “reasoning with a toddler” territory.
“I haven’t left the Morrigan,” I hissed, taking a step of my own, fists balling at my sides. “And as for your other rules—”
“You were playing blackjack. And you’re in the process of leaving the Morrigan. Don’t get cute with me.”
“You told me not to try to play on credit, and I didn’t! I played that hundred you left me, and I won, by the way, so you need to take back what you said about me being shit at counting cards!”
I broke off, breathing hard, as I realized my mistake.
Declan sauntered another step nearer, still with that casual attitude that made me want to punch him right in the smirk. No alpha glow, no sign at all that I’d so much as annoyed him, let alone worried him with the message about the guy watching me or with the possibility that leaving the Morrigan might endanger me.
Even without him trying to be imposing, though, his sheer presence still blocked out everything else: people getting out of a car a few feet away, someone yelling in the parking lot. The smells of exhaust and cigarette smoke and of the sun baking the asphalt, hot and pungent despite the year winding down to late fall.
Declan eclipsed all of it, with his broad shoulders and the weight of his dark gaze, alpha magic and pheromones rolling off of him in waves despite how unmoved he seemed to be.
