Page 47 of Crown of Death
I knew we were coming to visit the House of Valdez. I wasn’t prepared for the fear seeing this man would evoke in meagain.
“Edmond,” Cyrus acknowledges him, stepping forward. He places a hand at the small of my back, and oddly, it’s comforting. “I hope you’ve had a pleasant evening thusfar.”
“It’s been…busy,” Edmond says, holding the door open for thelimo.
I climb in, taking in the lavish interior of the space. More leather. Blue and purple lights. Bottles of what I assume is champagne. And something thicker,darker.
Everyone climbs inside, the doors slamming shut. Cyrus slides up to my side, his thigh resting against mine, his shoulder pressing into mine in the tight space. The driver pullsforward.
“I’ve heard the House of Valdez has moved since I last visited,” Cyrus says. He stretches out, resting his arm along the back of my seat. There’s something…possessive, yet protective about it. Something that makes my stomach turn into a complicatedknot.
“Yes, sir,” Edmond says. And I realize. The way his eyes don’t hold Cyrus’ for very long. The way he bounces his left leg. That slight sheen of sweat on his upper lip. He’s nervous. Incredibly so. “We’re right in the heart of The Strip now. It makes operationseasier.”
“It’s interesting, how some Houses prefer to operate in small towns, and others in large,” Cyrus says. And he turns his head slightly, his eyes catching mine. “Your mother is based in a very small town there in Mississippi. The House of Sidra is right in the heart of Vancouver. Your cousin’s House is right in the middle of Boston. Which was nearly theirdownfall.”
We turn down a road and the lights become more intense. And even though it’s late, even though it’s been dark for hours, there are still so many people milling aboutoutside.
“I, myself, prefer the slow and quiet,” Cyrus says. His eyes also turn outside. “Too many people lead to the possibility of too many complications. There’s a reason I have not visited Las Vegas in eighty-seven years. You cannot get a town more dissimilar to myhome.”
As if on planned cue, we turn onto another road, and The Strip opens up beforeus.
Lights blink. Lasers flash. Gigantic signs show images of near nudity and advertisements for magicshows.
Thousands of people crowd the sidewalks and car after car clogs theroad.
Welcome to SinCity.
“Have you ever visited Las Vegas before?” Cyrus asks. His voice is low, intimate, meant just forme.
I nod. “Amelia and I took a road trip here last summer.” I reflect, recalling the trip. “It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. I can’t say I enjoyed it thatmuch.”
Cyrus doesn’t respond, but as always, I know he’s mulling over every word Isay.
We drive two blocks, until we are indeed at the very heart of The Strip. And then we turn toward a massive building that glitters like silver under all the surroundinglights.
The MetroCosmo looks like something from the future. The entire building juts straight up and up, the windows and siding all one sleek sheet of silver, almost like a gigantic mirror reaching toward thesky.
The driver stops right in front of the giant doors. The doors to the SUV immediately open, and as I climb out, I see four workers, one for each door, and two that collect the baggage, loading it onto acart.
Each of them bow to both Edmond andCyrus.
My eyes slide over to Cyrus, and he just wears one of his little, mysterioussmiles.
“Welcome to the House of Valdez,” Edmond says, looking over his shoulder as he heads for thedoors.
“Is…” my voice falters. “Is Eli…Rath,here?”
“Yes,” Cyrus answers, watching as Mina and Fredrick fuss about, commanding the various employees to do this orthat.
“Can I see him?” Iask.
“It depends.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his expensive-lookingjeans.
“On what?” I demand withannoyance.
“On whether or not you win thegame.”
The look in his eyes darkens. The coyness in his smiledeepens.