Mick arranged everything from the lobby of the C. I would stay in Las Vegas with Colby while Mick, Drake, and Titus took the dragon slayer back to our hotel. Once I found Gabrielle, Colby and I would return with her to the Crossroads.

Maya and Nash opted to stay in Las Vegas—that is, Maya refused to leave. She declared she wasn’t missing her trip because of me and my crazy family, an arena full of demons, and a weird man who called himself a dragon slayer. She said this in a hard voice, but I could see she was concerned about Gabrielle as well, and didn’t want to go until she was found.

Nash, to my surprise, chose to stay with Maya. He’d already taken leave to come to Las Vegas and keep an eye on her, he said, so he might as well enjoy his time off.

They left us to return to our original hotel down the Strip, Maya looking not quite sure what to make of Nash’s decision.

Mick hired a car to take dragons and slayer to Arizona, and when it pulled up, he and Titus bundled the dragon slayer into it. Drake, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, probably the only things he could find on short notice, climbed quickly in after him, the binding spell Drake had woven shimmering like silver between him and the slayer.

Mick gave me a hard kiss on my lips, first, to say good-bye, second, to tell me to be careful. I rose into the kiss, tasting his fierce determination and also his frustration.

I waved at him as the car rolled down the hotel’s circular drive, the slayer wedged between Titus and Drake in back, Mick in the front. Colby and I stood on the walkway near the door to watch them go, a warm desert wind wafting up the slope.

I worried as much about Mick as I did about Gabrielle, my heart squeezing as the car pulled into traffic at the bottom of the drive. Drake’s binding spells could be broken, and if this one gave way, Mick would be in a lot of danger. The magic coming from the dragon slayer was terrifying.

“Okay,” Colby said as the car moved out of sight. “Now we seriously have to look for Gabrielle.”

“Did you say you were trying to find Gabrielle?” A young man, a driver from one of the many limos parked in front of the hotel came to us, wide-eyed. “She asked me to wait for her, but then there was the big fight inside, and now she’s gone. She all right?”

Before I could answer, Colby caught the young man’s shirt in his big fist, lifting him off his feet. “Who are you?” he growled. “What do you know?”

“Colby, put him down,” I said quickly. I resisted the urge to add, “Bad dragon.”

The man’s gaze slid to me. “You must be big sister Janet.” His words were strangled. “I’m really worried about her.”

“Colby,” I admonished. “He can’t talk if he can’t breathe. Put him down.”

Colby set the man on his feet with exaggerated gentleness and brushed off the front of his shirt. “So, talk.”

“I already said. I drove Gabrielle here, and she asked me to wait. Then she chased that guy out of the hotel, and then you showed up.”

“Why did you drive her here?” Colby rested hard fingers on the man’s chest.

“She told me to take her to the best hotel in Vegas. Which is this one. Said you’d be good for the fare.” He glanced nervously at me.

I sighed. “Of course she did. Don’t worry, I’ll cover it. What’s your name?—I’ll make sure you get the fee.”

“Amos. But I’m not leaving until I know she’s okay.” He lowered his voice, conscious of the other drivers, the valet parkers, and the security guards hovering near. “There’s rumors that weird things go on in this hotel. Bad things.”

“And you brought her here anyway?” Colby demanded.

“It’s all right if you stay in the casino and public areas. It’s different when you check in. I didn’t think she’d be staying, but she’s the kind they like. Lots of money, lots of courage.”

“Courage, yes,” I said. “Money—not so much.”

“She had enough to sit at the thousand dollar baccarat table,” Amos said. “I saw her.” He flushed. “I went in to check on her.”

Gods, how the hell had Gabrielle convinced the casino to let her play a thousand-dollar minimum game?

Simple. She’d used magic, which had alerted the weird people who owned the C.

“I’m glad you were concerned about her,” I told Amos. “Do you know people who work here? Can they help me find her?”

He looked eager. “Sure. I’ll ask around, and meet you—where? They’ll talk to me more if I’m by myself,” he finished apologetically.

“Middle of the garden,” Colby said. “Fewer people to overhear us.”

“Got it.” Amos looked us up and down, Colby in his very wet clothes, and me in the simple jeans and cropped top I’d put on so we could race out. “Not sure they’ll allow you into the hotel like that. They have a dress code.”

“I can change as soon as I can get my luggage here,” I said. “I’ll just go check in.”

Colby’s grin beamed out. “I like how you think, sweetheart.”

What the hell? I moved to the etched glass revolving door. The best way to know what goes on in the evil lair is to walk right in.

---

I showered, dressed in the bathrobe Chandra, a calm-voiced woman who told me she was from Nigeria, brought me, and I shopped.

I didn’t even have to leave my hotel suite, a lavish apartment that seriously beat anything the Crossroads Hotel had to offer. The TV had a channel for the shop downstairs, not a static online thing where you clicked on something and added it to your cart, but a feed of the wares, with slim young women modeling the clothes and jewelry. It didn’t look homemade either, but like a professional advertising company had put it together with sleek backgrounds and sulky, shoulder-tossing models.

The coolest thing was, you picked up the phone, told the shop which dresses and jewelry you were interested in, and they brought everything to your room.

I indulged myself asking for about twenty outfits and trying them all on before I settled on three. I picked all three because I couldn’t decide between them.

Chandra stayed with me throughout, giving me her opinion without reticence. Between the two of us, we chose a shimmering knee-length silver dress with spaghetti straps. The dress hung on me like a wave of water, but at the same time was modest, no cleavage. Grandmother Begay was always on me about modesty, which drove me crazy, not that I had any intention of showing total strangers all I had.

We picked out a quieter blue dress with short sleeves for more casual occasions, and a red top and minute black skirt in case I wanted to go dancing.

I talked about getting jeans and a black shirt, like Janet wears, because she looks kick-butt in them, but Chandra wrinkled her nose.

“You need your own style,” she said in her rich voice. “You have beautiful black hair and can wear bold colors. Don’t settle for drab.”

Chandra’s blouse was a swirl of blue, gold, red, and green that made her dark eyes sparkle, and she’d wound a bright scarf through her hair. She smelled a bit of lavender, but clean, not cloying.

“Why do you work here?” I asked as I put on the silver dress to have lunch with Cornelius. “Are you a nurse for the whole hotel?”

“I’m not a nurse—I’m a doctor,” Chandra said. “Or I was.”

Her tone was sad, and I looked at her with more interest. “They won’t hire you in the United States as a doctor? Why not?”

“Oh, they would if I went through the steps for the license, but that is not the path chosen for me.” She gave me a cryptic look. “It is a long story, but one for another day.”

Since I’d started hanging with Janet and her friends, I’d cultivated an interest in other people. I very much wanted to know Chandra’s story, but she gave a firm shake of her head, and I knew she wouldn’t tell me, at least not at the moment.

I’d also developed worry. Had Drake truly been able to go dragon and get away? I kept wondering. Since I hadn’t seen pieces of dragon on the grass outside, I assumed he’d made it. What about Colby? And Janet? Was she safe in our hotel room with Mick looking after her?

It was new to me, this concern about people. I wanted to call Janet, talk to her, make sure everyone was all right, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t have a cell phone—Grandmother Begay didn’t like them and she wouldn’t let me have one. Pete, who absolutely hated technology, was trying to talk her into getting one for me so I could at least check in, but Grandmother was stubborn. I didn’t have any money or credit to buy a phone on my own.

There was a landline phone in the room, but I’d have to ask the front desk for the number to Janet’s hotel, and I couldn’t trust that no one would be listening to my call. I didn’t want Cornelius or his staff to hear exactly what I said to my sister. None of their business.

I would figure out a way to contact her, but for now, Chandra was hurrying me, saying Cornelius would be waiting.

She steadied me as I slid into a new pair of silver, strappy high-heeled sandals, and then she looked into my eyes, as though assessing my state of health. “You are strong and resilient. Just be careful.”

Chandra stayed behind as I went out—why, I didn’t know, but I had the feeling she wouldn’t tell me that either.

I discovered a guard outside my door, one of the security guys with an earpiece. He only gave me a minuscule nod as I said hi to him, and he pointed the way to the elevator when I asked.

I met Cornelius in a restaurant tucked away on the second floor. This restaurant didn’t flaunt itself like the grandiose ones I’d seen on the ground floor or have gimmicks like a chocolate fountain. The restaurant was hidden in a discreet corner behind a thick glass door, as though it let in only those in the know.

A man in a tux opened the door and admitted me into a darkened room with red walls and hidden lights that cast dramatic shadows over the black tiled floor. The foyer contained a hostess desk in front of a wall that hid the rest of the restaurant.

The maître d’, also in a tux, greeted me in a quiet voice and told me that Mr. Christianson was waiting. He led me around the partition to a room that carried on the black and red theme, with discreetly spaced tables and chairs. Simple, the decor said, and very expensive. Chefs in pristine white coats and tall hats cooked behind a half glass wall.

Only a few people dined here in mid-afternoon—a couple who couldn’t get enough of each other and a few businessmen and -women trying to impress one another.

Cornelius rose as the maître d’ led me to his table in an alcove by a window. The smoked glass gave me a view of the gardens and the distant pool where I’d battled for my life. Cornelius held out my chair for me and pushed it in when I sat.

He seated himself again and said nothing while a waiter laid my napkin in my lap for me. I almost punched him before I realized what he was doing.

Cornelius smiled as though he understood my awkwardness. I consoled myself that even though I didn’t know how to act in a swanky restaurant, I looked kick-ass in this dress.

“The chef is preparing a meal to my order, but if you don’t care for any of the dishes and want something else, you have but to ask.” Cornelius gave me his kind look. “Do you drink wine?”

Another waiter hovered with a bottle. I didn’t drink much, but I enjoyed a glass of wine every once in a while. Cassandra had taught me what good wine should be like, and Janet’s saloon, when it was whole, stocked a decent selection. “Sure,” I said.

The sommelier poured a dribble of red into Cornelius’s glass. Cornelius smelled it, sipped it, closed his eyes to really taste it, and nodded. The sommelier, with a look of gladness, filled my glass then Cornelius’s, and discreetly backed away.

I took a dainty sip, savored the wine’s rich flavor, and set the glass down. “Very good.” I knew better than to talk about how fruity or spicy or woody or whatever it was, because I had no idea. It tasted like wine to me.

Cornelius dipped his head as though pleased with my assessment. “I am certain you are wondering why I wanted to speak to you.”

“Crossed my mind.” I glanced around. “This is all very posh, and you’re ordering food and wine for me like you’re my sugar daddy. Is that what you want? To be my sugar daddy? I probably wouldn’t mind for a while, because I like you, but I warn you, I’m a free spirit. I’d get bored, and that would be it. I’d be gone.” I waved my hand at the outside world.

And if anyone tried to keep me from leaving, walls would fall down, and people might get hurt, including Cornelius.

Mirth danced in his eyes. “No, my dear. I have a wife I adore and a daughter, as I told you.”

“One my age, yeah. She anything like me?”

“She finished her doctorate in engineering at MIT last spring. She’s already started a job at a company in Germany—she’s very excited. She loves Europe.” Pride radiated from him.

“So,” I said. “Nothing like me.”

“You have the same determination,” Cornelius said. “She decided her course and let nothing stop her. Her mother and I hoped she’d do her schooling in California and find a job closer to home, but she fought to get into MIT and worked hard to get her doctorate, no matter what. I see the same strength in you. If you set your mind on something, you will achieve it.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

I sipped wine while I thought about his observation. I complained a lot about how much Grandmother Begay restricted me, but I also knew that if I didn’t really want to stay in Many Farms and listen to her admonishing me to not destroy everything in sight, I wouldn’t.

Grandmother Begay, Mick, and even Janet were convinced that they dragged me back to Many Farms every time I got restless and ran off, but I knew I would never return to the little house in the desert if I didn’t want to.

And whenever I did get restless and run, where did I go? To visit Janet at the Crossroads or elbow my way into her girls’ weekend with Maya. They hadn’t wanted me to come, but they’d realized they might as well give in, knowing I wouldn’t go away, because I was a brat like that.

Was I really? I took another gulp of wine.

“What I am talking my way around to is offering you a job,” Cornelius was saying. “Are you interested?”

I choked on my wine. I quickly brought up my napkin so I wouldn’t stain the beautiful dress, and wiped my mouth and streaming eyes.

Cornelius watched me in concern, but before he could signal the waiter to help, I shook my head, waving the attentive man off with my napkin.

“A job?” I gasped out. “Why would you give me a job? Doing what? Cleaning rooms? I’m bad at that. Ask my sister.”

Cornelius’s wide smile told me I amused him. “A job as a mage, my dear. You are quite powerful. I could use you here.”

My heart thumped and a frisson of fear spread its way through me. “I thought your brother owns the hotels.”

“He does, but I run this one.”

I regarded him in suspicion. “What do you need a mage for? So guests can live out their icky fantasies?—I don’t even want to know what any of them are. I can guess.”

Not long ago, three men in a gas station in Winslow thought it would be great fun to put a shotgun to my face and demand I do whatever they wanted. They’d thought wrong.

My rage and fear had built into a killing fury, and I’d let them know my displeasure as I’d thrown them around the convenience store. If Janet hadn’t stopped me, I’d have toasted them, and I knew it.

Of course, watching the guy’s faces as shafts of magic had banged them against the ceiling had been very funny. The memory brought a smile through my trepidation.

The smile made Cornelius relax. “I do know what goes on at my brother’s Los Angeles hotel, my dear, and I don’t approve. Because of him, the C has gained an unsavory reputation, which I would like to negate. I want people to stay here without fear, and I will turn away those whose needs are distasteful.”

I turned my wineglass by its stem. “And you want me to help you do that?”

“I want you for protection,” he said. “To make sure that no people with dark needs or the means to fulfill those dark needs are allowed to stay at this hotel, and if they manage to slip in, to banish them.”

“Like warding, you mean? I’m not sure you need me for that. I can do wards, but I’m more a fighting magic kind of girl. I have friends who are good at warding, though.”

Mick, for one, who kept Janet’s hotel safe. Cassandra for another, but I wasn’t about to tell the brother of John Christianson that I knew Cassandra Bryson. She was still hiding out. She’d changed her name, but I had the feeling Christianson could find her if he wanted to.

“I’m not sure what wards are,” Cornelius said. “I did mean I need you for fighting magic. My brother called me this morning saying his clairvoyants woke up with dire forebodings—told him something was coming. Something to do with magic. I don’t understand everything John talks about, but he’s usually not wrong. If the mages he’s hired say something dire might happen, and might happen in the C, I’m going to listen.”

I flashed back to the dragon slayer when I’d tackled him in the casino, after he’d tried to tear Drake apart. Your Beneath magic will not prevail, he’d said, staring at me with his intense eyes. The Earth is rising. You woke it from sleep.

I still didn’t know what he meant, but the chill inside me when he’d voiced the words had been real.

“And your brother suggested that you hang out at the tables until you found yourself a mage?” I asked.

I didn’t like the pain that suffused me as I spoke. I’d thought Cornelius was being kind to me for myself, not so he could assess my destructive powers.

But wait, he’d been nice when I first sat down, and he couldn’t have known about my Beneath magic then, could he?

Cornelius shook his head. “My brother told me nothing. I didn’t realize you had … potential … until you began to fight the man who was cheating. I hope I haven’t offended you, my dear.”

He had, but I admit I was quick to take offense. All my life no one had wanted to be near me because I was crazy, had a drunk for a father and a hell-goddess for a mother, and pretty much endangered everyone I encountered.

So when someone showed interest in me, I immediately figured they wanted something, and it was painful when I discovered I was right.

“No,” I said, smiling sweetly. “I’ll get over it. Hey, you bought me this amazing dress.”

“Which looks well on you. My compliments.” Cornelius raised his glass to me.

“Chandra helped me pick it out. She has good taste.”

“She does. A very talented woman, is Chandra. I’m trying to convince her to return to practicing medicine.”

“What’s her deal?” I asked in curiosity. Wondering about someone besides myself was more interesting and less unnerving. “She said it wasn’t the path chosen for her. What happened?”

“That I do not know. I imagine Chandra will impart her tale when she is ready.”

I deflated. I enjoy a good gossip. Grandmother Begay says she disapproves of it, and in the next breath tells me the dirt on every single person she knows.

“I’ll let you think about my offer,” Cornelius said. “Don’t let talk of business spoil your meal. Ah, here we are.”

The waiter brought over steaming bowls of orange-red soup with a dab of sour cream floating in the middle. “Tomato bisque,” the waiter announced.

The steam rising from the soup smelled fantastic, and the crackling wafers of bread with cheese baked onto them looked good too.

Cornelius waved at me to start, and I lost myself in the soup. Grandmother Begay was a good cook, but she stuck with fairly ordinary dishes like stew and corn. This soup was heaven, with the bright taste of tomatoes soothed by the velvet texture of cream, contrasted by the savory saltiness of the bread.

The next course was a spice-rubbed chicken breast on top of a warm salad with pumpkin coulis, this being October. I had to ask what coulis meant, but apparently it’s a sauce, this one spicy, warm, and pumpkiny.

I ate everything the waiter slid in front of me and still had room for the blackberry sorbet for dessert.

I learned more about Cornelius as we ate—how he’d convinced his brother to open a hotel in Las Vegas, and how John had agreed if Cornelius would run it. It was a lot of work, Cornelius said, but he’d been lucky to put together a good team. He wanted it to be the perfect home away from home for his guests.

He told me more about his daughter, and also his wife, who lived in Los Angeles, from where he commuted when he needed to be at this hotel.

Thankfully, he didn’t ask much about me, or talk about the fact that I was Apache, only inquired with mild interest where I was from. I told him Arizona, and that was all. It’s a big state with one massive city, a few less massive ones, and a bunch of towns. Let him guess.

Janet and Grandmother Begay would never approve of me working for Cornelius, or staying in Las Vegas, or having any kind of life of my own. I was the evil Gabrielle, who needed to be contained. Mick would try to talk me out of it, and if I argued too much, he’d simply carry me off where everyone wanted me to go.

Cornelius signaled for our empty sorbet bowls to be taken away and coffee to be poured. I didn’t like coffee, but I sipped it to be polite. As far as coffee went, it wasn’t bad.

I smiled at him over the rim of my cup, as the angry voices of Grandmother Begay, Janet, and Mick danced through my head.

“I’ve decided,” I said. “I’ll take the job. When do I start?”

Cornelius beamed in relief. He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a shout from the maître d’.

“I said you can’t come in here, sir.” The “sir” was obviously a placeholder for “asshole.”

A big man in sweat pants and a T-shirt threatening to rip at the seams shoved the maître d’ aside and strode across the restaurant, his blue eyes flashing all kinds of dangerous.

A wave of joy lifted me to my feet. “Colby!” I rushed at him and threw my arms around his large, hard body.

Colby lifted me, cupping his hand around my face. “You’re all right,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Thank all the gods.”