Hell-bent

[4] A Whole New Hellhole

Angie adjusted her sunglasses for the eighth time, trying and failing to inconspicuously wipe away the line of sweat that had formed along her cheekbones. Living in a glorified cave in the earth's core did very little to prepare her for the dry heat that was Las Vegas. On the other hand, living with demons had done wonders for her patience, so while her outside may have been melting, inside she was cool as  a cucumber as she sat in traffic along the strip. When she got bored, she played her favourite game: picture Lucas in her current situation trying not to have a full-blown meltdown.

And by meltdown, she wasn't being metaphorical. The man could turn into a human-shaped volcano if his buttons were pressed just the right way. When Charon had first let this little fact slip, Angie decided she would stop at nothing to witness it firsthand. That had been a mistake. It had taken her eight months to grow her hair back to a decent length.

Playing with the cover of her convertible, tears of frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes as she realized that, rather than provide a cool shade, the covered car became an unbearable sweatbox. Muttering angrily under her breath, she released her hair from her top bun so it at least covered the back of her neck. Her skin may not have been able to burn, but the frying sensation felt real enough.

It wasn't soon enough before she finally pulled into the driveway of the Vegas Renforth hotel, and Angie actually sighed in relief as she stepped out of the metal deathbox that is her sleek white sportscar. She handed her keys and a fiver to the valet attendant before making a mad dash for the air conditioned lobby. Her pores demonstrated their relief by opening the floodgates, allowing full droplets of sweat to run from her hairline into the creases of her eyes and lips. Disgusting. Grabbing her leather duffel bag, she made a break for the washroom to splash some water on her face. Whose idea was it to build a party city in the middle of the desert, anyway?

Walking back through the lobby towards the check-in counter, she absorbed the hotel decor. The place was designed to look like old money. Crimson velvet loveseats lined the room, and although the original design was likely an open concept, new archways had been build to divide the space, given it the false perception of a much older, much smaller building. Angie suspected even the yellowed crown mouldings on the walls had been falsified. It was the most disgustingly fake attempt at luxury she had ever seen, and she couldn't wait to get it of this hellhole and back into her own.

Now there was something she never thought she'd say.

The rooms were no better than the lobby. With the crimson quilt set alongside the gold detailing of her king sized bed, the place might as well have been an adult version of the Gryffindor common room. She set her bag on the bed and allowed herself two minutes of quiet. Two whole minutes where she didn't think about work, Hades, or anyone else in the Underworld. With her head clear, Angie's thoughts immediately turned to her.

Where was she now? What was she doing? Was she enjoying the life that Angie had given her? The life that Angie wished she could live...

Enough of that, she had to focus. If Lucas's warning had meant anything, it was that this woman would not easily be swayed. Most of her jobs were an easy in and out, but from the looks of things, this would be a multi-day venture. She hardly knew anything about this woman, other than the fact that she had quick fingers and was drop dead gorgeous. She was a far cry from the loser sitting in the back of a truck stop, that was for sure.

Angie slipped into a royal blue triangle bikini and grabbed her beach towel and a magazine. Two minutes later she was facing a very overcrowded pool. As a waiter passed by with an empty tray, she reached out and touched him lightly on the elbow to get his attention.