Curse of the Fallen by Eve Archer
Chapter Nine
Ella
The villa was quiet when I woke up the next morning, faint gold light replacing the blue glow of the moon as it suffused my room in warmth. I eagerly swung my feet onto the floor, glad to get a respite from my tormented dreams and the images of Jaya and Anthony that had been impossible to purge from my brain.
With a firm shake of my head—as if I could shake the images loose—I took long steps toward the attached bathroom, walking through the doorway that was shaped like a minaret. Here, the ivory tile gave way to pale-blue mosaics that covered the walls. A window covered with white latticework let in plenty of light but also provided privacy, while a skylight opened above the deep soaking tab. I flipped on the water in the shower and slipped from my nightgown, waiting until steam began to rise before entering.
I hissed as the hot water stung my skin, but soon I adjusted and luxuriated in the pounding heat that released the tension in my shoulders. If only I could wash away the demented memories of Jaya fucking Anthony for my benefit.
I flattened my hands on the shiny tiles of the shower wall and let the hot water rush across my back, cursing the fact that the demon had returned, and my chances of escaping had just dwindled. Fisting my hands, I reminded myself that I didn’t have to escape. I just needed to find a way to contact Dominick. If he knew where I was, he’d fly to my rescue. Literally. Despite my bizarre dream—and even more bizarre experience with Jaya and Anthony—the thought of Dominick rushing to my rescue cheered me. My thoughts about what he was might be muddled, but I felt secure in his devotion to me. All I needed to do was stay on my toes and keep looking for a way to reach out to him.
After soaping up and washing my hair with some fragrant Bulgari shampoo and shower gel, I finally turned off the water and dried myself, wrapping one of the plush, white towels around my wet hair. I’d discovered a wardrobe filled with clothes the day before, and even though they were mostly loose dresses in bold, exotic fabrics that reached my feet, it was better than walking around in a bathrobe.
I picked a boxy, orange-and-yellow-paisley shift dress with long bell sleeves, slipping it over my head. One nice thing about the roomier, Moroccan dresses—they didn’t need to fit perfectly, and they were forgiving of curves. I gave my hair another rough rub with the towel, not caring that it was damp. I’d always hated having to blow dry my hair, and I certainly wasn’t going to primp for the likes of Anthony Solano.
Opening the door and stepping into the hallway, I paused. Aside from footsteps below—probably staff—the villa was quiet. I padded on my bare feet down the curving stairs, peeking at the pool deck outside. No sign of Anthony. Either he’d already eaten, or I’d gotten up before him.
I blew out a relived breath. After watching the demon ride him like she was a rodeo champion, I didn’t relish running into him. “Talk about awkward,” I muttered under my breath.
As soon as I was spotted by the staff, I’d be smothered by their attentive service, so I crossed my fingers that no one would hear me. I was hungry, but not starving, and I wanted to get a little snooping in before anyone was aware I was downstairs. I scanned the foyer, startled that the guards weren’t flanking the exit. My pulse trilled. Could I make it outside?
I wanted to run, but my feet were like lead as I hovered on the bottom step.
Go, Ella. This is your chance!
I drew in a breath for courage and hiked up the hem of my dress. I hadn’t made it two steps when I saw a flutter of movement from just outside the front doors. My heart lurched in my chest. The guards were standing outside.
I swerved hard, making a beeline for a room off the foyer and ducking inside before either of the door guards spotted me. Even though I’d tried to have a good look around the day before, I hadn’t seen this room. It appeared to be a study, with a mahogany wood desk at one end, and a brass lamp hanging above it. Lush, potted palms perched on either side of the desk, and French doors opened out to the lawn behind them. A star-patterned rug covered the tile floor, and two peacock-blue-upholstered chairs were angled on it facing the desk. The smell of furniture polish made my nose twitch, and the bright sheen of the desktop told me that the space had been recently cleaned.
I closed the door behind me as quietly as I could, leaving about an inch opening so the latch wouldn’t click into place and alert anyone. Then I hurried to the desk. I doubted Anthony Solano used this as his office—it was too pristine for that—but an office must have a phone, right?
Scanning the neat surface, I saw no phone, only a brass filagree lamp on one corner and a vase of white flowers on the other. I slid out the top drawer, but there were only pens and notepads.
I glanced at the entrance and then behind me at the glass doors. “Come on. There has to be something.”
Moving as quietly as I could, I opened the rest of the desk drawers. Just as I my heart was sinking, I spotted a glint of metal at the bottom of the last drawer. Pushing aside a pair of heavy bound ledgers, I pulled out the phone.
I wanted to jump up and down, but I stifled my excitement as I pressed the power button and whispered a prayer to anyone who would listen. When the screen lit up, I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Then I stared at the numbers, my shoulders sagging.
I didn’t know how to call Dominick. I had no idea how to reach him, and I was confident that I couldn’t call information to find him. I knew he owned the hotel in Istanbul, but I didn’t have time to track him down that way. Someone could walk in at any moment and take the phone from me. I couldn’t count on getting more than one call.
With a renewed determination, I pressed a familiar number and held the phone to my ear. When my best friend answered, her voice thick with sleep, I wanted to cry.
“Sara,” I whispered. “It’s me. Ella.”
“Ella?” She slurred “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”
I hadn’t thought about the time difference, but of course Morocco was several hours ahead of New York, and it was still morning here.
“Sorry. Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Are you okay?” Her voice was instantly sharper and more alert. “You aren’t calling from your phone but you’re still overseas. Has that Italian playboy ditched you somewhere? Do you need me to send you money?”
I was caught between laughing and crying. It was so good to hear her voice, even if she was switching into her overprotective mode. “I’m fine.” Technically true. “But there’s been a bit of a hiccup.” If I told her I’d been kidnapped, she would freak out and call the police, and even New York’s finest couldn’t do anything about a member of the Italian mafia gone rogue who was holding me in Morocco.
“What kind of hiccup?” She muttered a few curses. “I knew this guy was too good to be true.”
“I promise you this doesn’t have to do with Dominick.” Okay, that was a little lie since he was the reason I was abducted. “Everything with him is amazing.” Aside from me being concerned he might be the devil. “But I need you to get a message to him.”
“Me? Wait a second. You aren’t with him?”
“We got separated.” Another technical truth.
“Separated?” Her voice dripped with skepticism. Not that I blamed her. I was being cagey as hell.
“Sara,” I said her voice sharply. “Please do this for me. Dominick Vicario is one of the owners of the Epicurus nightclubs. I’m sure if you call them, they can track him down.”
“Epicurus? You mean that fancy-ass club in Tribeca we went to last year for your birthday?”
I stole another glance at the doorway, then turned around to face the French doors leading outside. “That’s the one. Tell them that you need to get Dominick Vicario a message from Ella. Tell him I’m in Marrakesh.”
“You’re in Marrakesh?” She shrieked, making me hold the phone away from me ear. “Ella, what the actual fuck is going on? You’re freaking me out, here.”
Before I could make up an explanation that would calm her down, a noise outside the room made me spin around. I clicked off the phone and dropped it into the drawer as the door opened.
“You’re not supposed to be in here, little girl,” Jaya said, stepping fully into the room and giving me the same triumphant smile I recognized from last night.
