Devil's Gate (Elder Races #4.6)(18)

She said, “The Dark Fae are famous for their metallurgy. Maybe the possibility of finding a node of magic-rich metal lured him here, especially now that trade has opened up between Adriyel and the rest of the world.”

“Maybe, but if that was the case,” Duncan said, “why didn’t Thruvial send servants or employees? Why come himself? And once he got here, why did he get involved in trafficking, and not excavation and mining?”

“I don’t know,” she said, as frustration welled up.

His grip tightened. He repeated, “But what really bothers me is the Djinn’s presence here, and his involvement. Seremela, if you left, you could reach Reno inside an hour. You could call out until you get cell phone reception, talk to Carling and Rune and tell them what is going on while I go talk to this Malphas and see what I can do here.”

“I’m not leaving,” she told him.

He looked as disturbed as she had ever seen him, and even a little angry. “I don’t want you to stay here.”

He was that worried about her?

She said gently, “Duncan, think for a moment. It would be nice if one of us could leave and tell the outside world what is going on, but there is a Djinn involved, and information works both ways. What if Wendell decides that other people would be willing to pay for what he learned about us? What if one of them is the Djinn? Nobody here has any legal authority or any right to execute Vetta. Hanging her is murder. I could get halfway to Reno—hell, we could both leave and he could still stop us if he wanted to.” She paused to let that point sink in. “We couldn’t know it at the time, but we hit the point of no return the moment we stepped into Wendell’s shop. We need to confront whatever this is together, head on. Right now.”

“Gods damn it,” he whispered. His lips pulled back from his teeth where, she saw, a hint of his fangs showed. Then his grip on her elbows loosened, and he stroked his fingers lightly down her forearms before he let her go. “All right. Let’s find Gehenna.”

The casino was easy to locate. It sat at the edge of the settlement in a large circus-sized tent. Raucous noise poured out of it, and drunks milled about the opening. Inside a blaze of electric lights flashed atop rows of slot machines. Malphas, or his casino managers, had invested in importing electric generators. Cigarette, cigar and hashish smoke hazed the air.

Seremela caught sight of movement out of the periphery of her vision and looked up. A boardwalk had been constructed around the edge of the tent where several large Goblins, weapons prominently displayed, walked and watched the crowd below.

Her lip curled. She and Duncan exchanged a glance then moved further into the tent where they found the game tables. People caught sight of Seremela and moved to give them both a wide berth.

She was okay with that. She wanted a three foot space between her and anyone else in this hellhole.

Male and female servers, both Elder Races and human, carried drinks and trays of chips for people to buy, dressed only in waist chains and dog collars. While Seremela wasn’t a prude by any means, she didn’t like strangers’ dangly bits paraded in front of her without warning, and she jerked her gaze away with a muttered curse.

A human server approached them with a bright smile, although Seremela noted that he came up on Duncan’s far side, staying well away from her. “Want to buy some chips?”

“We want a manager,” Duncan said.

His smile never faltering, the server said, “Yeah, good luck with that. It’s a busy night, but they’re all real busy. Days too. Gehenna never closes, no matter how hot it gets. Offices are straight ahead.”

“Thanks,” Duncan said.

They barely took three steps forward when a female Vampyre, flanked by two Goblins, shouldered through the crowd toward them. The Vampyre had short blonde hair and was dressed in black fatigue pants and a black tank top, which showed off her muscled torso. She wore a semiautomatic in a hip holster and she moved like a fighter. She also looked intelligent, and she stopped right in front of them.

After one comprehensive glance at Duncan, the Vampyre focused on Seremela. “If you want to stay in Gehenna, you have to wrap up your snakes. You’re disturbing the customers.”

“We’re not here to gamble and we have no intention of staying on the floor,” Seremela said quietly. “We’re here to talk to Malphas.”

The Vampyre rubbed the back of her neck and studied them both under leveled brows. “You’re here about the girl, aren’t you?” she said. When neither of them confirmed nor denied, she shook her head. “Follow me.”

Dismissing the two Goblins, the Vampyre led them through the crowd to the back of the tent. Then, without stopping, she led them outside through another opening. Behind the tent several modular buildings had been set up, the area surrounded by a nine foot high barbed wire fence. Seremela looked around everywhere as they walked. She knew in her bones that Vetta was very close, probably in one of these buildings.

“She’s here,” Seremela said to Duncan. “I know she is.”

He moved as calmly as ever, hands loose at his sides, but she noticed how his sharp gaze roamed over the scene. “I believe you,” he said. “I think she’s here too.”

Their Vampyre escort was apparently not much for idle chitchat, for she didn’t say a word until they reached the last modular building. Once there, she propped open the door and flipped on an inside light. Duncan looked in but didn’t step inside. Seremela glanced in too. The interior was totally empty and lit by a single naked light bulb.