Convince Me by Tonya Ramagos

His hand felt cold. It should not feel so cold. Kailey Walden looked into the smiling face of the valet attendant as he helped her out of her car and wondered, not for the first time, if the rumors pertaining to the Hotel of Darkness were true. Could she, at this very moment, be holding the hand of something no longer human?

Mark was his name. She knew that because she was eye level with the badge pinned to his white tuxedo shirt. The shirt fit snug over a well-defined chest, tucked into a pair of black dress pants. Even with the lack of a jacket, Kailey thought the uniform to be overkill for an employee who merely parked cars all night. Although it could be a costume, as unimaginative as it may be, rather than a uniform. Did the hotel require employees to dress up for Halloween? Did the undead even need costumes? He stood four or five inches taller than her five-foot-seven, and she tilted her head back to meet his eyes. They were a bright shade of green, friendly, and nothing about them looked anything less than human. Wouldn’t they be dark, void of emotion, absent of humanity if he were the undead?

You’re being silly, she told herself silently. You’re allowing nervousness and the talk through the city grapevine to cloud your true senses. Mark probably took a quick break before she pulled up, sipped on a cold can of soda. That would explain why his hand was so cold.

“Ms. Walden,” he said with an almost imperceptible nod. His voice had a candy sweet ring to it that perfectly matched the jellybean green of his eyes, the cherry red of his lips.

Kailey’s heart tripped a beat. Alarm bells sounded in her head. They reminded her of the time she had pulled the fire alarm in high school. The warning was that loud inside her head. She could only hope the events that followed would not be so bad. The trouble she had gotten in for pulling that fire alarm when there had not been a fire. It was best not to think about that now.

“How do you know my name?” She’d never visited this hotel before, never met this man, and she’d told no one of her plans to come here tonight. Mark’s smile widened to reveal a set of perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. No fangs. Had to be human. “The Master had hopes you would show.”

“The Master? You mean Damian?”

Mark did not answer. Instead, he said, “Steven is waiting just inside the lobby doors for you. He will show you to your room for the evening.”

Kailey stepped away from Mark but her gaze didn’t leave him until she nearly walked into the front corner of her Saturn ION. Only then did she realized how out of place her car looked parked in the inside lane of the valet area. Though her ION was barely three weeks old, it was clearly no match for the Corvette, Rolls, or even the Hummer that parked in front of, behind and beside her car. And that said nothing of the other cars that idled in the half-circle lanes waiting to be vacated so they could be moved. Proof that the hotel attracted some very upscale guests. They couldn’t all be part of some mysterious undead underworld. Could they?

Of course not, she decided as she followed a couple dressed in medieval costumes through the doors into the hotel. It was all an illusion, a rumor passed around town to gain business, to add to the mystic. Not that the hotel needed anything to add to the mystic. Its name, Hotel of Darkness, said enough she thought coming to a stop just inside the lobby.

It was like something out of a movie, though she could not be sure which one. A cross between a new age Goth flick and something from the Gone With the Wind era, she decided. Antiques, priceless if her first instinct were correct, mingled with the dark and sinister. Skulls, statues, knights and paintings, some seemed as old as time itself. The lighting was dim. Lanterns were scattered about, and a chandelier of flickering candles larger than any Kailey ever saw hung low from the cathedral ceiling. How the flames didn’t blow out with the gusts of wind coming through the open door was anyone’s guess.

People moved about, some just arriving, others clearly en route to a destination. Nearly everyone she saw wore a costume. There were witches and wizards, ghouls and zombies, royalty and peasants, fairy tale creatures and horror movie stars. She even spotted a man on all fours dressed as a great big dog, or maybe it was supposed to be a wolf, weaving through the crowd. The predator, she wasn’t sure why that particular word came to mind, looked at her and she realized with a sudden start that it wasn’t a man in costume after all. Someone had brought their dog along to the party. It had to be a dog for surely no wolf would ever be so tamed and well-behaved.

“Excuse me, Ms Walden.”

Kailey looked to her left, found that a tall, blond man in black slacks and a white tuxedo shirt much like Mark, the valet attendant wore, had stepped up beside her. “Steven?” she made it a question.

He beamed at her. He had a great smile, all perfect white teeth and thin lips. His hairline had started to recede, but she thought, rather than taking away from his appearance, it made him look even more handsome. The Bruce Willis look back in the late eighties. Or was it early nineties?

“I am to see you to your room,” he told her and his voice was as soft and friendly as his smile.

She glanced down and saw that he had put his left hand on his hip. No. Wait. The hand wasn’t touching his hip, but rather lay flat at the waistband of his slacks, the elbow making a V between their bodies. It was an old gentleman gesture. He waited for her to put her hand in the V his arm made, to rest her hand at the bend of his elbow. She was so taken aback by the gesture that she stared at him for a long moment in awe before she slowly, tentatively placed her hand in the crook of his arm.

Suddenly, her knees went weak. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, the abrupt wave of desire that swept over her, through her. Lust. Such a powerful punch that she cried out from the blow of it. Every inch of her flesh suddenly craved to be touched. A thin layer of sweat covered her. Her heartbeat raced. Her pulse pounded in her ears. A faint metallic taste rose in her mouth.

Then he was there in front of her. Only, she was no longer in the lobby of the hotel. This room seemed darker, more mystical, and far more romantic. Two large candelabras lit the room on either side of a giant four-poster bed. Damian lay on that bed, naked white flesh in a sea of red silk sheets. His long black hair spilled over the pillow behind his head. The sheet covered him only from the waist down, and then only one of his legs. The other leg was bent at the knee and peeked from beneath the sheet from gorgeously toned thigh to ankle to tease and tempt her. His stomach lay flat, unmoving. A thin line of dark curls began somewhere below the sheet at his waist and traveled up to his navel and continued to his magnificent chest, accenting his pale, pale skin.

He was absolutely beautiful. No other word could describe him.

She met his eyes, so blue they reminded her of a clear summer sky, and he smiled. Fangs. She saw them, two small razor sharp points peeking from beneath his top lip. His smile widened even as she felt her eyes grow in shock and she saw them more clearly, fully. They seemed to gleam at her, taunt her.

Then he spoke in a voice so lovely, so musical that it touched her very soul. “After tonight, you will believe, my sweet.”

Kailey came back to herself on her knees, gasping for breath. She was back in the hotel lobby, she saw as she slowly looked up. Her hand remained clasped to Steven’s arm. He knelt beside her, watched her with something almost knowing in the green depths of his eyes.

A small crowd of people gathered around them. Kailey started when her gaze landed on a short figure wrapped entirely in white gauze with what looked to be blood splattered in strategic places. Then, as her heart slowed and her mind began to clear, what she really saw came into focus. A man of about five-foot-eight made up to look like a zombie who got caught in the middle of a battle that turned into a blood bath. How original.

Slowly, the world began to make sense again. Where she was, why she came here, where she had been headed before she fell to her knees. But the—hell, what should she call it? A vision? A premonition? A mind game? Whatever it was made no sense at all.

Kailey had always been an imaginative person, often drifted into a daydream while walking, driving or sitting idle. But to imagine herself dammed near into a daydream orgasm while entering a hotel lobby, now that took it a bit too far.

“Are you alright, Ms. Walden?” Steven asked.

She pulled at his arm and, taking the hint, he helped her get to her feet. She expected the world to swim, at the very least seem a bit hazy around the edges now that she once again stood upright. To her relief, everything seemed clear, much as it did before her little episode. Yeah, that sounded like a good word for now. She tried to laugh, as if her collapsing had been the result of something as silly as tripping over her own feet. Unfortunately, her laugh sounded uncertain, worried, a bit scared even to her own ears.

“I’m fine, Steven,” she said and tried with all her might to sound as though it were so. “Just went a little weak there for a second. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I tend to forget mundane stuff like that.”

She could tell by the expression on his face that he didn’t buy it, but he nodded anyway. “Let’s get you to your room. I’ll have room service deliver something while you dress for the party.”

Kailey nodded. A part of her wanted to say no, to pull away and head straight back out the door in which she entered. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it in her blood, in her bones. Yet her desire to see Damian again was simply too great to disappoint. It had been he who’d made out her invitation, slipped in a personal note that told her he would provide everything she would need for the evening, including a complete costume for the part, if only she show up. What would be waiting for her in the hotel room? She was almost afraid to find out.

The small crowd gathered around them apparently decided she was okay. Crises over. People split. She felt relieved by that. Now that she stood back on her feet the embarrassment set in. Collapsing in the extremely busy lobby of a hotel. Not one of her best moments. Thank goodness only she knew what caused her to crumple.

Yet, she really didn’t. Did she? It had been a daydream. What other explanation could there be? She knew she came to see Damian, though she didn’t like to admit it even to herself, she couldn’t count the times since she met him that she dreamed of him naked in bed, surrounded by silk.

Steven started to move and, to her relief, she found she could walk without so much as a wobble, even in three-inch heels. You go girl, she thought.

He kept silent as he led her to the wall of elevators on their right. Minutes later, they stepped off the elevator into the long deserted hallway of level sixteen, the top floor. She didn’t know what made her expect to be taken to some underground room. To better keep with the illusion, she supposed.

They stopped outside a huge set of double doors, shiny brass numbers read sixteen-zero-two, and Steven put his hand on the brass doorknob. “Your room, my lady,” he said, and pushed open one of the double doors.

Slowly, tentatively, Kailey stepped over the threshold. Gorgeous, elegant, romantic, lavishly expensive, exquisite, the adjectives just kept coming. Everything from the antique armoire and four-poster bed to the heavy burgundy drapes and burnt sienna carpet screamed of money and style.

She turned and found that Steven still stood in the hall. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“No ma’am, but thank you for the invitation.” He all but bowed. He didn’t look much older than she, maybe two or three years at best, and yet he acted like a butler out of one of those old late night whodunit flicks. “Room service will bring a tray for you shortly. You will find your clothes for this evening inside the closet, undergarments in the bureau. The bath should be fully stocked as well. If you should wish anything else, simply pick up the phone, give your name and tell them what you want.”

He hesitated then, as if unsure how she would react to his next words. After he said them, she understood why. “Please do not leave this room. It may not be safe. The Master will come to you when it is time.”

“I’m a prisoner.” She said it with an odd tone of mixed awe and disbelief.

“No ma’am. Certainly not,” Steven said quickly. “It is merely the Master’s request. For your own safety,” he hastened to add.

It started to feel weird talking to him through the opened doorway. She didn’t know why, but it made her uncomfortable. She started to insist he come inside, sit down and talk for a while. If she couldn’t leave this room until the party, she may get bored and decide she wanted company. But there were more pressing things she needed to say, more important questions to ask.

“You keep saying Master. So did Mark, the valet attendant. Who is this Master?”

“I should think you would know.”

“Damian? You mean Damian? Why do you call him Master?”

“I should think that would be obvious as well, especially after your experience in the lobby moments ago.”

She thought about that. What experience? He couldn’t be talking about that incident. “I don’t understand.”

Steven sighed, an almost impatient sound. “Was it not the Master you saw on the bed?”

“Y-you saw it too? All of it?”

“You were touching me at the time. I could not help but see.”

“You’re telling me that Damian somehow caused that? That he got into my head, in your head too, and made me see—”

“He is very powerful, my lady. Very powerful indeed.” And with that, Steven reached out, latched a hand onto the doorknob and pulled it closed.