Hotel Magnifique(39)

“What reason?”

I squirmed when his fingers pushed into my waist, facing us to look out. He pulled me against him. One by one, each button of his uniform pressed against my spine, and I understood exactly what the guests were supposed to think.

I could have murdered him.

“If they believe we’re a couple, they’ll give us privacy,” he whispered in my ear. “No one will question us. It’s the reason I chose this spot.”

“You could have mentioned that earlier,” I said through my teeth.

Bel sighed into my hair, and a searing sensation traveled up my spine.

“Remember it’s an act,” he whispered as the guests wandered up. I sensed a woman’s eyes on me, on Bel’s hands that smoothed their way up my hips.

It’s only an act. It doesn’t mean anything, I told myself as his lips pressed down on the back of my neck, and my stomach tightened.

“I think you’re enjoying yourself, Mol,” he whispered against my cheek.

I stomped on his foot. “Am not.”

“Whatever you say.” His nose trailed up the ridge of my ear, then he leaned into me, almost as if he were enjoying it, too. But he couldn’t possibly be. This was only a means for him to get information.

“It’s the Magnifique,” a guest remarked under her breath.

We both stilled.

“A shame he’s taken,” someone else muttered. “I’ve heard the reason they call him the Magnifique doesn’t have anything to do with moving the hotel, if you know what I mean.”

A terrible choking noise escaped my throat. Bel must have felt similarly because he buried his face in my shoulder to stifle his reaction.

“Is that a new perfume you’re wearing?” he asked at the sounds of the lift finally rattling down.

“Do you mean the boiled onions or the tarragon beef tips?”

“The boiled onions. Definitely the boiled onions. They accentuate your sparkling personality.”

“You’re an ass.” I shoved him back, flustered. His useless banter didn’t fool me. He was as calculated as they came, and yet I had to trust him. “How is Zosa?”

“She looked a little pale, but otherwise unharmed.”

The words did little to lift my spirits. “Why can’t I see her for myself?”

He shook his head and launched into his oft repeated warning. “Kitchen workers never go inside the salon. If you do, you’ll be noticed, and you don’t want to have the twins on your back. If Alastair ever caught us having this conversation . . .” Bel’s jaw went rigid. “Here, no one is safe in their job. All the workers are replaceable, even the suminaires. You can’t risk it.”

“But what about before Zosa’s performance? Or after? If you found an aviary key, I could see if she’s kept inside. Check on her myself.”

“We’ve been over this. Only Alastair and Hellas go inside.”

“So what?”

He gave me a scalding look. “Even if your sister is kept there, I can’t change her back without Des Rêves’s artéfact, let alone release her from her contract.”

He was right. If Zosa and I managed to get past the threshold, we would disappear into nothing the moment the hotel moved at midnight. We had to void our contracts first.

And that was impossible. But I had to find a way.

I suspected Zosa’s contract was filed in that infinite ledger along with mine and all the others. But I didn’t know how Alastair voided them. Whenever I brought it up, Bel told me that it wasn’t as simple as ripping the parchment in two, that Alastair used powerful, complicated magic. He didn’t know how it worked, or if we could repeat it ourselves.

I wanted to search for something that could help—do something other than feel utterly useless—but Bel told me that Alastair would notice if I even glanced in his direction for too long. I was to keep my head down, while he continued looking for answers and checking on Zosa.

But it wasn’t enough. I was going out of my mind working in the kitchens. I needed to see my sister with my own eyes. “How hard would it be for you to get an aviary key? Let me peek inside?”

“I always thought you were pigheaded, never a complete fool.”

“Zosa is my family. Can’t you understand that?”

Bel flinched and my hand flew to my mouth. It was the wrong thing to say. Bel didn’t remember his family or his home. Though he’d never told me outright, it was obvious he wanted what I still had.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine. Drop it.”

“Bel . . .” My heart stuttered. Despite how calculated he was, I’d finally felt like there was something growing between us. Tenuous as it was, it felt different than what I had with Béatrice. Bel knew my secrets. He understood me like no one else inside save for Zosa. Now I had to go and screw it up.

I reached for his hand, but stopped myself. Bel looked at my fingers dangling in the space between us. His brow arched.

What was I doing? My neck grew hot. He’s only a means to escape this place. Don’t lose focus. All that matters is Zosa, I told myself. I let my hand drop to my side.

“Anything else?” he asked after a little while.

“I saw the suminaire, Red, in the kitchens.”