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The Last Housewife(36)

Author:Ashley Winstead

I froze.

“What are those?” Jamie demanded.

The giant man didn’t blink. “They’re the rule.”

Jamie looked at me. “I don’t know…”

I didn’t want to lose control. Step inside weaponless and vulnerable, a soft thing, easy to tear. The music seemed to grow louder, more sinister and disorienting. That was panic seeping in. This was everything I’d spent years avoiding, the exact sort of situation I’d sworn never to expose myself to again. But…

Laurel was here, I told myself. Odds are, she stood in this very spot and took a pill just like this one, and you need to know why. Do it for her. What other choice do you have?

What other choice did I have? I reached for the pill and swallowed.

For Laurel.

***

We stepped through the door in the wall and entered a perverse underground fairyland. It was a vast cave, the rocky ceilings high as a cathedral, stalactites reaching down like grasping fingers, stone pillars creating a maze of rooms. Was this why the Mansion was built atop a hill? We had to be deep inside it now. Through the door, the volume was overwhelming; I could feel the bass in my bones, trying to wrest control over my heartbeat. I couldn’t imagine what it took to keep this sound from leaking out into the Mansion’s grounds.

Hot baths dotted the cave, their turquoise waters lit like jewels. Candles lined the pathways, as if each pool were an altar. There were people everywhere, more men than women, some of them dancing close, kissing against walls, some pressing into each other in the baths. Most were naked, the rest in nothing but panties or tight, clinging boxers. I nearly choked.

Jamie pulled me close enough to hear over the music. “I think I know why we’re supposed to change.”

I knew I should protest, maybe even leave, climb my way out of the Mansion. But the panic from earlier was leaking out of me. In its place, a night-blooming flower unfurled its petals, spreading a warm, easy nectar that made my limbs languid.

I leaned even closer to Jamie. “I think the pill was ecstasy. Or some sort of relaxant.”

He nodded. “I’m feeling it, too. Are you sure you want to keep going?”

I nodded. “Laurel came here. I’m sure of it.” I was Alice, and Laurel was my rabbit. I would chase her into any wonderland, no matter how dark. I pushed Jamie’s chest. “Get changed.”

I said nothing when he emerged from the bathroom in slim black boxers, but I didn’t look away from his stomach, muscles taut as he walked, or the sharp, elegant lines of his clavicle, bones slashing into his broad shoulders like brushstrokes. The night-blooming flower’s magic was strong, lending me boldness. It told me there was no reason to be shy, so I leaned against the bar and watched him.

But when Jamie drew close, his eyes cut away, like he was embarrassed to see me in a bra and panties, or too honorable to look. “Where should we start?” he asked.

A stranger walked up to the bar beside me and, unlike Jamie, gave me a close look. He was older, with a thick middle and an even thicker mane of salt-and-pepper hair. “I’ve never seen you before,” he said, eyes lingering on my chest. “What’s your poison?”

“I’m not drinking.” Not when a mysterious pill was snaking through my body.

“You with him?” The man nodded at Jamie. “Because I don’t do doubles.”

“No. But—”

He took a step closer. “Then let’s talk. I’m a giver, not a taker. Just tell me what you’d like done, and what it’ll cost me.” He spoke the words with the unhurried cadence of someone uttering something perfectly normal.

What would have been alarm before the midnight pill was now only a muted spark of curiosity. “What I’d like done?”

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