Written in the Stars(31)

For a moment, they were silent, soaking in their surroundings. The room was austere, all stone and hard surfaces, and yet, starting was a little overwhelming. Especially with the giant red timer mounted to the wall, counting down the seconds, reminding them what was at stake even if it wasn’t real.

“So.” Brendon rocked back on his heels, neck craning to survey the ceiling. “Anyone have any idea where to start?”

Darcy pointed at the table where the crystal ball sat on a three-legged pewter stand. “There.”

Not a bad idea.

There was nothing special about the crystal ball, nothing Elle could see at least. Nothing other than the fact that it wasn’t perfectly smooth, was more of a nonagon than a sphere, and its stand was glued to the tablecloth. The tablecloth was unadorned and glued to the center of the table, too. Lifting its edges revealed nothing but a smooth, wooden surface. Huffing softly, Elle dropped to her knees.

“What are you doing?” Darcy demanded, stepping closer.

“Call it a hunch.” Elle peeked up at Darcy from beneath her lashes.

“I think Elle has the right idea. You two go low, and Cherry and I’ll search high, yeah?”

Darcy set her purse on the floor beside the door before dropping to her knees beside Elle. She lowered her voice, “What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“I look cute when I blush?” Darcy narrowed her eyes.

“Well, it’s the truth,” Elle admitted, sweeping the floor with her hands.

Darcy scoffed dismissively, effectively brushing aside Elle’s compliment and making her feel like a complete and total fool for bothering to be nice.

“I know it’s such a hardship, but at least try to pretend you like me. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”

Elle ducked her head beneath the tablecloth, squinting into the dusty darkness. She sneezed twice back to back and sniffled. Smitten, her ass. If Darcy didn’t step it up, Brendon was sure to catch on and that was the last thing Elle needed. Maybe this hadn’t been her idea, but she’d committed. If this thing fell apart? Brendon would think her a total liar. Not the best way to begin a business partnership.

Using her hands as eyes, Elle felt along the legs of the table, searching for something that stood out, something different, anything that could be a clue. On the other side of the table, she could hear Darcy shuffling around, but she couldn’t see her, couldn’t see anything.

“It’s not,” Darcy whispered.

“It’s not what?” Her nose tingled as she staved off another sneeze.

“A hardship. Liking you . . . pretending . . . this—” Darcy sighed heavily. “You took me by surprise, okay?”

Suddenly there was a hand on the bare skin of Elle’s thigh where the hem of her skirt met her leg. Elle’s breath caught and a sharp gasp escaped Darcy’s lips, no doubt realizing what she was touching, where she was touching. Only, Darcy didn’t immediately move her hand. Instead her fingers twitched and Elle heard her swallow in the darkness, her breath quickening. Elle held so still she nearly shook as Darcy’s touch lingered, frozen, before Darcy finally yanked her hand away as if she’d been burned. If the rest of Elle’s body was as scorching as her face, it was no wonder.

Surprise was right. If it hadn’t been for Darcy’s muttered, “Fuck,” Elle might’ve wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing.

“Hey, keep it PG under there,” Brendon joked, making Darcy groan.

Elle shook off the shock and snickered, though her pulse still raced, her skin tingling where Darcy had touched. “Nothing about me is PG, Brendon.”

Brendon laughed. “Not trying to ruin the mood, but we’re down to fifty minutes.”

Elle changed trajectory, tracing her fingers along the bottom of the table above her head. Her thumb raked over a rough notch, an inconsistency in the wood.

“I found something.” Elle scrambled out from under the table and blinked, eyesight adjusting. She whipped back the tablecloth as a neon-red-faced Darcy straightened, brushing invisible dust from her knees. Their eyes met and Darcy’s lips turned up at the corners, making Elle’s pulse leap.

Pressing that lever had ejected a secret compartment from the side of the table. Nestled inside was a ring of skeleton keys and beside them, an old deck of cards, weathered with fraying edges. Not just any deck of cards. A deck of tarot cards.

Brendon pumped a fist in the air. “Hell yes. We’re rocking this.”

Ever the realist, Darcy’s gaze locked on the timer. “What now?”

“We could try the keys?” Cherry suggested.

Brendon shook his head, grimacing softly. “We don’t know which door is right.”

And there were half a dozen keys, each marked with a different number. Eight, twenty-six, thirty-four, forty-two, fifty-five, ninety.

Elle flipped through the deck. There was nothing special about it. All the Major and Minor Arcana were present.

“Um, I think I found something.”

Across the room, Cherry had lifted a corner of the rug with the toe of her pump, revealing a series of symbols written on the stone floor in ominous red paint.

Brendon cocked his head. “Are those hieroglyphs?”

Elle bounced on her toes. It was like she was in Indiana Jones, or better yet, The Mummy. This was too cool.