Rune System: The Crimson Knight

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

If Draàl was lying about the Peruvian hotel being better than the Grand Palace in New York, then he quickly affirmed his words when he stepped inside.

The lobby was probably the largest he’d ever seen, even more impressive than the one at the Craig Tower. The enormous domed ceiling bore a huge chandelier that possessed a golden frame with numerous sunny bulbs, which bathed the largely populated room with soft, yellow ambient lighting. The waiting lounge on the far right was a section of its own—teeming with guests, and lavishly decorated and furnished with stylish sofas, a large mahogany table, and an enormously curved television set embedded in the wall. Positioned right in the middle of the lobby was the reception area, mostly consisting of a desk in the shape of a large, hollow square, with four receptionists stationed at each internal edge.

Maneuvering around several people, Draàl walked up to the side of the desk facing the entrance, stopping before a woman sporting a similar royal-blue uniform to the valet, tapping away speedily at a computer.

“Welcome to the Hacienda Sol Luna,” she droned without looking away from her screen. “How may we be of service to you?”

“We’d like a room,” Draàl replied, equally flatly. “One of your grand suites, to be specific.”

Camila Mendoza—again, according to her name tag—finally angled her eyes upward, scanning the stranger before her. With the corners of her lips curling with distaste, and a slight scowl taking over her rather pretty features, Draàl could guess her response before she even issued it forth.

“Sorry, sir. But those rooms aren’t available.”

Draàl remained unfazed—it wasn’t the first time someone had looked down on him for no apparent reason. He stood his ground and kept his gaze fixed on the lady.

“That’s fine. How about your VIP rooms, then? Or a standard suite, perhaps?”

Camila glared at him for another moment, then she returned her attention to the computer, her slender, nimble fingers resuming their work. “None of those are available, either.”

Slowly losing his patience, Draàl cleared his throat and spoke as calmly as he could. “Surely there has to be a vacant room somewhere. Could you check, at least?”

“The rooms here are very pricey, mister,” she finally snapped, following her harsh tone with an intense glare. “Right down to the regular rooms. So I suggest that you find somewhere else to hunker down for the night.”

“Listen here, woman…” Adriàn began with a threatening step forward. Felipe also advanced, with his hand reaching into his jacket.

“No,” Draàl uttered with finality, his firm voice and a raised hand stopping both men automatically. He withdrew the black card from his pocket, sliding it on the desk towards Camila as a last resort. “Perhaps this will change your mind.”

Draàl suddenly realized he wasn’t told how to use the card, nor did he think it’d be universally recognized. But, considering the way the receptionist’s eyes widened as she gaped at it, he could vaguely confirm the level of authority it possessed.

“Where did you get this?” she asked quietly, her tone heavy with disbelief.

“That doesn’t concern you,” Felipe snarled, his brown eyes blazing with fury. “Just give us the damn room.”

Camila continued staring at the card, her brow wrinkling with concentration like she was trying to move it with her mind. Then, with a quick swipe, she snatched it from the desk and rose to her feet.

“You stole this,” she declared with complete certainty. “It’s one thing to carry a complimentary card, then it’s something else entirely to walk around with this. Less than a handful of people possess this privilege, and you’re certainly not one of them.”

Her neat, coffee-brown hair—styled in a straight, fringe pattern—moved along with her head as she gestured to the security guard poised at the revolving doors. With a gruff expression, and a dark, crisp-looking suit, he marched up to the trio, placing his hands before him as he planted himself in their path. Soon enough, they were surrounded by other scowling, sturdy men with identical suits and dark shades.

“Say the word, boss,” Adrian suggested as he ran hateful eyes over the guards, “and we’ll reduce these idiots to a pulp.”

“Without question,” Felipe agreed as he cracked his knuckles.

Draàl, on the other hand, kept his eyes on Camila, his sixth sense picking up a suspicious trace around her as he gave a brief warning. “You don’t want to do this.”

The intensity of her violet gaze matched his. “Too late, mister. Take them away,” she added with a brisk nod to the security men.

Immediately, a large hand gripped Draàl’s wrist firmly, only to withdraw almost instantly, accompanied by a cry of agony and the sizzle of burning flesh. Draàl didn’t even spare the guard a glance as he dropped to his knees, still clutching his burnt hand. Alarmed, the others took a step back, assuming a cautious stance as they stared at their colleague’s predicament. Meanwhile, the other guests in the lobby had noticed the spectacle brewing in the reception area, with a few whispering amongst themselves.

“What’s going on there?”

“Did that guy just burn his hand by simply grabbing that other guy?”

“Everyone over there looks sketchy. I hope the police come to take them all away.”

“Finally! Some action. Nothing interesting happens around here, anyway.”

Clearly hearing all the mumbling around him, and caring very little about it, Draàl grabbed a fistful of the guard’s hair with one hand, causing him to wince and groan painfully as he easily lifted him a few inches off his knees.

“Once upon a time, I was a defenseless weakling who would’ve shriveled from your voice and cowered under your stare,” he said, regarding Camila with a fierce, glowing glare. “The tide has turned now, and I believe the only way to deal with condescending fools like you is to fight fire with fire.”

With that, Draàl summoned yellow flames in his other hand, drawing surprised gasps and murmurs from his unexpected audience. The astonishment—laced with fear—in Camila’s eyes gave Draàl more satisfaction than he anticipated, further prompting him to scorch everything and everyone in his path.

Before he could set everything ablaze, however, a clear, feminine voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Now, it wouldn’t be fair to burn down everything I’ve worked so hard for, would it, my lord?”