Fables & Other Lies - Page 57

“I know.”

“Yet you do it.”

“Let’s just say I’ve spent the majority of my life testing how far I could push the envelope.”

“As much as I can . . . sort of understand that, considering you sold your soul to the Devil and all, I don’t think it’s fair to push the envelope with me in the car.”

“You’re right.” He reached for my hand, bringing it up to his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just stop trying to kill me.”

He chuckled; it was a deep laugh that struck me all wrong. I had a question on the tip of my tongue, but then I saw light in front of us and my voice remained in my throat. It was a village, a town, with streets and street lamps and structures. There were people spilling onto the street from bars, from whatever businesses were up. River pulled up to the sidewalk and parked the car, turning to me.

“You weren’t kidding when you said there was a whole town,” I said.

“Who are all of these people?”

“Some you met at the party the other night. Others are here for fun. All are the lost souls that are so often talked about when people bring up Dolos.”

“But they’re . . . alive, right?”

“Very much so.” His eyes crinkled. “Does a soul ever die?”

“I’m not sure.” I blinked. “You subscribe to the notion that nothing dies.”

“It’s what I know.” He shrugged a shoulder and looked out the front windshield. I followed his gaze. “Most of these are brothels, bars, places they can come and gamble in, get-rich-quick schemes.”

“Interesting.” I looked at him again. “Do you spend a lot of time here?”

“Hell no.” His gaze whipped to mine. “I used to, when I was younger. It gets old fast, like most vices do.”

“Except for smoking apparently.”

“Well, that’s an addictive habit.” He smiled.

“So is gambling. And prostitution. And whatever else is going on here.” I looked outside again, where a scandalously dressed woman was laughing at something a man in a suit was saying to her. “Why haven’t I ever heard of Dolos being such a hot spot for seedy things? You’d think it would be as popular as Las Vegas.”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. What happens in Dolos never happened.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought they said that about Miami.”

“Everyone in Miami has a cell phone. Cell phones don’t work here.”

“Well, shit.” I sat back in my seat. “How’d they get here? The water hasn’t risen around the island.”

“Helicopters, private planes, some docked their yachts in Pan Island last week.”

“Jesus.” My eyes found a familiar face outside, a billionaire who was always in the tabloids. The lifestyles of the rich and the famous indeed.

“Do you want to get down?”

“Not really. I’m okay with just driving around.”

River started driving. He pointed out the window frequently as we passed things like the market, clothing stores, and hair salons. The entirety of the town took up two blocks, nothing more. There was one row of townhouses and one row of bars and brothels. That was it.

“What about the rest of the island?”

“It remains untouched for the most part. There are some vacation homes on the shore, but not many. This is why some people call it the Devil’s Playground,” River said. “It’s not because they understand that he actually resides here.”

“Where does he live?”

“Everywhere.” River met my gaze as he drove and the intensity of it was impossible to ignore. “If you believe the stories, which I do, he was banished from Heaven and exiled to Earth, and isn’t that perfect? Where better to have someone with questionable morals exist than a place where everyone is looking for something to give them purpose, without realizing their purpose was planted inside of them all along?”

I thought about that long after we got back to the Manor. Long after we made love again before falling asleep. I’d always pushed thoughts about the Devil and the curse aside, never really knowing why I was so completely against any of it being real, but now I understood. I tried to ignore it and speak against it because it made me uncomfortable, but discomfort often led to change and I was open to that.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I hooked a finger into the candleholder and walked outside of the bedroom, careful to shut the door quietly behind me. I couldn’t sleep and River, who hardly seemed to, was sound asleep tonight. The candlelight created a shadow on the walls as I walked down the stairs, holding the skirt of the silk robe I wore carefully so that I wouldn’t trip. When I reached the foyer, I half expected to see one of the staff members dusting and cleaning, as they always seemed to be, but it was dark, desolate, only the sound of my breathing audible. I wasn’t sure what I was doing down here alone, but something had called me to get out of bed and come. I stepped into the study and stood in the center of the room, my eyes on the stained glass in front of me.

Tags: Claire Contreras Paranormal
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