I came to a dead halt, my hand tightening on my chip holder as I prepared to draw on my power for the kill. Teach him to mess with my dragons.

The dragon slayer looked right through me. He glanced around, as though checking out the casino, but never noticed me frozen in place, gaping at him. My jaw had to be on my chest.

I snapped my mouth closed, relieved but at the same time offended. Couldn’t he sense that the bad-assest mage in the Southwest was right in front of him?

Apparently not. Maybe because I wasn’t a dragon? Or a snake-bodied demon? Or did he just not think me a threat?

He turned away and moseyed through the casino, scanning the tables before he chose one. Passing the time before he hunted another dragon?

I followed, doing my best to look innocent. Men tried to stop me as I slid past them—asking if I were alone, if I wanted company, if they could buy me a drink. Because of course, a young woman walking around by herself could only be dying to hook up with a guy, any guy.

I brushed past these eager gentlemen—or gave them a shove out of my way if they were too insistent. I didn’t want to use magic to push them aside, because that might alert the dragon slayer. He hadn’t noticed me as a girl in a slinky dress, but guys flying across the room on a jolt of power might give him a clue.

The dragon slayer bulked out his elegant suit, like a wrestler who’d stuffed himself into formalwear to glad-hand the right people. His hair was a cross between brown and blond, as if he couldn’t decide, and his eyes were dark in a squarish, flat face, nose a little beaky. Not bad looking—in a brutish way—but Amos, my driver, was much more handsome.

The dragon slayer sat down at a baccarat table. I slid onto the empty seat at the other end of the horseshoe-shaped table, setting my rack of chips on the green felt.

I’d never played baccarat before, but I figured it couldn’t be all that hard. Casino games are fairly easy—it’s knowing how much to bet and when to stop that’s difficult.

The baccarat tables I’d glimpsed in other casinos had been tan with bright markings, but this one had an old-fashioned feel to it, like the rest of the hotel, as though we’d been transported back a hundred years ago to a posh place on the Riviera.

I studied the numbers and words painted on the felt but had no idea what to do.

“You can bet on the bank or your own hand,” a well-dressed, silver-haired gentleman next to me said. “Is it your first time?”

He could have put innuendo into the question, and I’d have punched him, but he seemed genuinely nice, so I let it slide.

“It looks fun, so thought I’d try it,” I said, making myself sound ingenuous.

“The minimum bet at this table is a thousand dollars,” the man said gently. “That’s this one.” He touched a yellow-bordered chip. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Of course.” I plucked two chips from the carrier and stacked them in front of me.

The man raised his silver brows and then copied me, putting down a bet of two thousand.

The dragon slayer laid down a stack that made five thousand. I only smiled and waited for the dealer to take cards from the shoe and slide them to me on a wooden paddle. So much more elegant than having the dealer’s fingerprints all over the cards, and probably more sanitary too.

My cards were a two and a three.

“That’s good,” my new friend said. “In baccarat, you need to stay below or at nine. Tens and face cards are worth zero.” The dealer slid cards to him, a king and a three. “You can ask for another card, but you have to be careful. The tens place isn’t counted, so if your cards add up to, say thirteen, that only counts as three.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Really? Who made up that math?”

The gentleman smiled. “Bored card players in the eighteenth century.”

“Couldn’t they count back then?”

“I think they wanted to make things more difficult.”

Of course. Where was the fun if you won too easily?

The dragon slayer received his cards. The dealer drew a five and a seven for the bank, which by this bizarre way of counting, equaled only two points.

“I’ll take another,” I told the dealer, then grinned when he turned over a four. Nine points—hot damn.

“Very good,” my new friend said. “I see I won’t be so lucky.” He had another face card, which meant he topped out at three points.

The dealer gave the other players cards as they wished, then the game was over. A stack of chips came at me by way of a small plastic rake, and the same rake scraped away my new friend’s chips. The dragon slayer received a payout too.

I narrowed my eyes as I watched the slayer. He sat casually, a slight slump to his broad shoulders as he stacked his chips with big fingers and placed another bet.

The gentleman leaned to me. “You need to move your chips or they’ll be your bet on your next hand.”

I considered, then shrugged. “Let it ride.”

He looked worried. “Are you certain? You could lose it all.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m here to have fun.” I nodded at the dealer to let him know my bet stood.

“Good for you.” My friend put down two thousand, which he lost at the end of the hand. He let the chips go, unperturbed.

I lost as well. I didn’t have to—I could have slid some magic into the card shoe to give me nine points again, but I chose to stay cool. The first hand I’d won by luck alone, which was an exciting feeling. Plus, I didn’t want to dribble out too much magic in a place like this.

Cassandra had told me about the man who owned the C hotels. He was called Christianson, and he knew all about magic. He had once employed Emmett Smith, the Ununculous—top mage in the world—to make his guests’ dark, kinky wishes come true.

I’d think a man like Christianson would know when someone used magic to cheat in his casinos. Janet had handed Emmett Smith’s ass to him a few months ago, but another dark mage could have taken over his position.

More cards, more bets. I shoved six thousand dollars in chips onto the felt. The dragon slayer bet five thousand.

Cards turned over. My friend next to me relaxed a little when his points totaled eight. “Staying right here,” he told the dealer with a warm smile.

The dragon slayer asked for another card. I forgot to, because I was too busy watching him, and lost my chips on a hand of only two points. The dragon slayer won a big stack.

I’d felt a tingle as soon as the dealer plucked the card from the shoe and slid it to the dragon slayer.

I didn’t have any Earth magic in me, and in my youth had never been good at detecting it, but that had been before I’d hung around with Janet and Mick. I’d become much better at sensing it now, especially since I’d moved in with Janet’s grandmother.

Ruby Begay was a strong Earth-magic shaman, and Janet’s dad, the sweetheart Pete, had Earth magic in him as well, though more modestly. Gina Tsotsie, Pete’s fiancée, had some too, which she worked into her pretty jewelry.

You can’t be around that much Earth magic, twenty-four seven, and not get used to its buzz. Grandmother Begay pretended she never used hers, but I knew she zapped a little into the food she cooked—I’d seen her do it. I’ll never tell, though, because her meals are wonderful.

Now, as I sat at the elegant, old-fashioned baccarat table, I sensed the little spark and smelled the whiff of warm dust that meant Earth magic was in the air.

Was the dragon slayer nuts? He’d be caught by the magic-savvy hotel owner and either flayed alive or taken out into the desert to be shot and left as a lesson to others. Did goons still do that in Vegas?

The dragon slayer didn’t appear to care—he just kept on cheating, his flick of magic barely discernible.

As the game went on, my new friend beside me won and lost, taking his money or letting it go with equal grace. No magic there. I tried to emulate him, pretending that victory or defeat meant nothing to me.

I had my fingers on the table during one hand when the dragon slayer was dealt his third card, and I definitely felt the bite of magic snaking toward the dealer. I sent a subtle trickle of my own magic over his, and the slayer ended up with a face card, which brought his points to the grand total of four.

He blinked and frowned, while I hid my smile of triumph.

Another deal, and then my silver-haired friend, who was down to his final chips and a hand of two points, made a resigned gesture. “One last card, and then I retire. Do be careful, all right?”

“Don’t go,” I said on impulse. I liked him—so few people were nice to me, and I was enjoying the novelty. “You’ll win, I’m sure.”

He shook his head. “The cards aren’t with me tonight.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I have a feeling your luck is about to change.”

I sent my tendril of magic to the dealer, and the next card brought my friend’s point total to nine. The dragon slayer lost completely, and I resisted crowing with laughter.

“See?” I said. “Your luck is changing.”

My friend didn’t scream in joy or jump up and down like people in ads for Las Vegas do. He looked mildly pleased, gave me a smile as he pulled in his winnings, then laid down another thousand-dollar chip.

The slayer looked up and over at us. I gave him a five-fingered wave, but his gaze didn’t settle on me—it rested on my distinguished gentleman friend.

The man beside me exuded no magic at all, so why did the slayer stare at him so sharply? Did he assume the wicked flash of magic from my end of the table couldn’t possibly have come from the Apache woman in party clothes?

I kept grinning at the slayer until finally he flicked his gaze to me.

The ice in his stare froze me to the bone. There was power in this one, no mistake. I don’t know why that worried me—I didn’t have to be afraid of Earth-magic beings. Did I?

Smile in place, I showed him a spark in my fingers. It’s on, honey. I saw a glitter of magic in his hand, his response. Oh, yeah. It’s on.

My view of the slayer was cut off when my new friend blocked it by bending to me.

“A word of advice, my dear,” he said in his smooth voice. “Have nothing to do with that one. I know young women find men such as he exciting, and I’m guessing my warning will only make him more attractive, but please believe me. I’ve heard things about him, bad things. And no, you can’t reform men like that, no matter how hard you try.”

Aw, what a sweetie. Distress showed in his brown eyes, concern that I’d throw myself away on an asshole and end up beaten, barefoot, and pregnant in a rundown shack somewhere. I’d never in a million years let that happen to me, but my friend was so kind to worry.

I patted his arm, noting that the sleeve of his jacket was ultra-soft. “Trust me, I’m not interested in the guy, except to take vengeance on him for a friend.”

I’m not sure he believed me. “Just be careful—he is not a good man. I have a daughter about your age, and I’d say the same to her.”

I blinked back tears as I tightened my grip on his arm. “Can I pretend you’re my dad? Mine was a total dick. He’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked bewildered but sounded genuinely sympathetic, which was a new one for me. I released him and held out my hand.

“I’m Gabrielle. I’m not usually so awful—well, okay, maybe I am. At least, my sister thinks so.”

“I’m Cornelius.” He had a warm handshake, a firm clasp. “A strange name these days, but my family hoped it would lead to great things. Tell your sister you are not awful.”

“Thanks.” I flushed as I let go and turned to accept more cards. I wasn’t used to pouring out my feelings, not my true ones, and now I was a bit embarrassed. Not sorry though. Cornelius, on the other hand, was unruffled, with an easiness about him.

The hand dealt me wasn’t good, but I was learning in this game that points could change radically with the flip of a card.

I placed my bet, asked for another card, and sent an invisible frisson of magic into the deck so the slayer’s six thousand dollar bet went bust.

Winnings were pushed to Cornelius and to me. “Betting on the bank, that’s the way to go,” I decided, laying my chips in the “bank” space.

“The hotel will take a percentage,” Cornelius warned.

I shrugged. “That’s all right. It’s their table.”

The dealer’s points in the next hand totaled nine, letting me win, while the slayer lost again.

“You have a cool head for games,” Cornelius said with a touch of admiration as I calmly stacked my winnings. “I think you’d enjoy Monte Carlo.”

Monte Carlo, the exotic name of another place I’d never been. I hadn’t been most places. I’d grown up pretty much a prisoner in my own house, and now Grandmother Begay didn’t want me out of her sight, unless I was with Janet and her watchful dragon boyfriend. Mick didn’t let me get away with shit, like the big brother I’d never had.

“I’d love to go,” I said wistfully. “But big sis—you know. She’s protective.”

“Well, I’ll just have to speak to her,” Cornelius said warmly.

This was turning into the best night of my life. I was making new friends, winning a bunch of money, and tweaking the nose of an all-powerful dragon slayer.

Who turned to the dealer, stuck out his arm to point to me, and said clearly, “She’s cheating.”

I lifted my hands and stood up, wide-eyed. “What? What are you talking about?”

I’d risen to show that I couldn’t possibly hide any kind of cheating device on my person and that I didn’t have a purse or a phone. And anyway, the cards the casino used were plain cardboard, and the shoe was a simple wooden device. No electronics or magnets could manipulate it, and since the dealer laid the cards out, face up, six inches in front of each of us, I wouldn’t have any opportunity to switch them for different ones.

Didn’t matter. At one push of a button from the dealer, security guards, five of them, materialized and headed over.

Cornelius rose to stand beside me. He held up his hand as the guards neared. “It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll vouch for her.”

The guards, to my surprise, stopped.

The slayer, now on his feet, growled at Cornelius. “What are you doing? I saw her.”

Cornelius gave the security guards a mild look. “I’m not sure about him, though.”

The guards instantly turned and moved to the slayer. “Sir,” one of them said. “Please come this way.”

I wanted to dance around and do a fist pump but decided to remain dignified. The slayer’s eyes glittered in a dangerous way, but I watched him make a decision to not argue. With another glare at me, he took up his chips and quietly left the table.

“Payback’s a bitch,” I told him, as the guards led the slayer past us.

Yes, it is.

I don’t know if I heard his words projected into my head, or if I simply knew that’s what he was saying. Either way, it chilled me.

I abruptly wondered what he’d do to the security guards once they were out of sight, and started to follow, leaving my chips behind.

Cornelius caught my hand. “No, my dear. Let it go.”

Would the dragon slayer kill the guards? Or simply talk his way out of this to keep his low profile?

Whatever he would have done next became a moot point, because at that moment Colby came in through the casino’s front door, followed by a tall, darkly attractive and very irritated Drake.

The dragon slayer whipped his head around like a lion catching a scent. Power built up in him like a tidal wave, and the guards slid away from him, looking confused.

The slayer turned for Colby and Drake, who had both frozen in shock.

I shook off Cornelius’s hold and started running for the dragons, but too late … far too late.