The Marriage Game

In Which Spoon Sleeps

 Camila dragged herself up the stairs one clumsy step at a time, her new keycard clutched tightly in her hand. After hours spent stressed out in a tiny cell, she'd wanted to stretch her legs and move. Now, halfway up seven flights of stairs, she regretted that decision.

As a tentative ally of the Vindicators, Camila had been awarded her own room, although it wasn't as if she was free to go. Zora had spent an hour casting some kind of spell on every exit—doors, windows, vents, and plumbing included—so that she'd know when and how Camila left. Even going to get her key had been a hassle.

The witch had insisted on casting a protection and tracking spell over her. The enchantment had involved her chanting and scattering a mixture of baking soda, ground orchids, and orangutan saliva over Camila's forehead.

She was half-convinced the whole thing was Zora's idea of a joke.

She'd asked to see Alex earlier, but Zora had frowned.

"He's- not good right now. Wait until tomorrow."

Camila had set her jaw, ready to argue the point, but Zora shook her head. "It's Declan's orders."

And that was that.

Her room was a copy of the one she'd shared with Declan: floor-to-ceiling windows, a massive bed, and a small kitchen. She let the door shut behind her.

There was an excited bark.

Like an orange and white tornado, Spoon whizzed out of the kitchen and slammed her furry body into Camila's shins, panting happily. Camila buried a hand in her dog's soft fur and laughed.

"I guess you did miss me, huh?"

Spoon yipped in agreement and flipped onto her back, wagging her tail wildly. Camila obligingly rubbed the dog's belly.

After almost thirty minutes of sitting on the floor with Spoon, Camila pulled herself to her feet. A quick glance at the clock told her it was almost two in the morning.

Her eyelids drifted close and she snapped them open. She tugged her shoes off, not bothering to remove her socks, and collapsed on the soft, plush mattress.

When she woke the next morning, Spoon was curled up beside her, one ear flopped inside out, her head resting on Camila's stomach. Her dog let out a soft whimper when Camila got up.

"Sorry," she whispered quietly. Spoon snuggled deeper into the blankets, her eyes shut.

Camila found a brand new toothbrush waiting for her in the bathroom, plus a small tube of toothpaste. She showered.

There was no hairbrush, so she combed her fingers through her hair as best she could. To her surprise, it looked okay, falling down her back in straight, neat lines. Zora had loaned her an outfit—bra included, thank Goddess—and it felt rejuvenating to wear something different for the first time since the ball.

Someone knocked on the hotel door.

"One second!" Camila called out, running a quick hand through her hair and checking for any last minute tangles.

Spoon was still curled up on the bed, blissfully sleeping away. Camila pulled open the door.

"Hey." Zora stepped inside. "Cute outfit."

"Whoever picked it out must have a fantastic fashion sense." Camila smiled.

Peering past her, she caught sight of twelve men standing in the hallway. They were crammed together like sardines in a can. At the very back of the crowd she got a glimpse of Alex's blond hair.