“The huge battle?” Casanova whispered, spitting mad. “The one I’m still making repairs for?”
“Oh.” That one. “What about it?”
“Well, word got out, didn’t it? Containment isn’t so easy when you have giant magical melees taking place in the air over the damned roof! We did the best we could, but ever since, there have been rumors. They finally became so insistent that the senate decided it would be easier to have the Hogwash people come in—”
“What people?”
“You must have seen them,” he said impatiently. “With the little horns and the squeals and the—oh, never mind! The point is, their shtick is debunking urban legends and the like. If they come here and don’t find anything—”
“And if they do?”
“Then there’s everybody’s perennial favorite, the vampire,” the announcer intoned. “How far do they date back? Let’s put it this way: there are shards of ancient Persian pottery depicting blood-sucking creatures. That predates all written records, folks.”
“Then we make a few mental adjustments, erase some footage, whatever it takes!” Casanova said. “But in the end, they’ll go off satisfied and, more important, I will have had an hour-long, prime-time advertisement for free and you are not going to mess that up for me!”
“I’m not doing anything,” I said angrily. “What is your problem?”
“Oh, please! Don’t think I don’t know why those bitches are here!”
“What are you talking about?”
I didn’t get an answer, because a guy in a security uniform ran up, looking freaked. Since most of the security detail around the casino were vamps, and vamps who had seen some shit, it didn’t make me too happy. And for once, Casanova and I appeared to be on the same wavelength.
“What?” he demanded, before the guard even stopped.
“Sir, it’s getting worse. We can’t contain—”
“Then call for backup! They’re filming!”
“Sir, we have called for backup. We have every guard on duty either in place or on the way, but we aren’t, that is, we don’t—”
“Don’t give me that,” Casanova snarled. “There’s only three! Sit on them if you have to!”
“Sir, I don’t think you under—”
“All right, you’re going to have to hold it down,” we were told, by a guy in a black tee with a pink pig on the front. “We’re picking you up on the mikes.”
“So sorry,” Casanova whispered ingratiatingly, and jerked me back against the wall.
“And as for demons, well, they’ve been mentioned in almost every holy book going,” the announcer said. “Along with plenty of secular texts. Take the incubus, for example. A spirit who supposedly visits people in their sleep, for, er, carnal relations. That idea goes back to Mesopotamia at the beginning of written history, at least forty-five hundred years.”
Casanova turned on his vamp again. “They’ll be through with the intro in another minute. Just hold on until—” A chicken flew past his face. “What the—what was that?”
“Sir, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” the vampire said tightly. “We don’t have a minute.”
“But now all these legends, fables, myths, and—yes— monsters, have been brought together in one place, for your entertainment,” the announcer said, throwing out an arm, “in the Vegas attraction everyone’s talking about! Dante’s, where it’s rumored, unexplainable things happen on a regular—”
Another chicken flew by, this time in front of the man’s face. “What’s that? What’s going on?” he demanded, breaking character.
“I do believe you missed one,” a woman’s voice rang out, sounding amused.
“What?”
“In your litany of supernatural creatures. You forgot the most important of all.”
“Forgot who?” the guy asked, looking confused.
But not as much as when a whole flock of panicked birds suddenly descended onto the crowd, screeching and clucking and causing people to duck and squeal. Or when one of them suddenly morphed midflight into a naked vampire. Who hit the floor with a thud and a shriek: “Witches!”
He scrambled up and took off, bare butt flashing the camera, but I doubt anybody noticed. Because pandemonium had just broken loose. Chickens, sheep, and a flock of—yes—pigs were running and soaring and squawking and squealing everywhere, people were screaming and ducking, and something or somebody crashed into the taco stand. Which tipped over, scattering sweet-smelling meat and shredded cheese and my last chance at dinner everywhere.
And I finally reached tilt.
“Stop! It!” I screamed, at the top of my voice, unable to take any more.
And, just like that, it did.
It stopped.
Not something. Everything. Including a rogue head of lettuce, caught midbounce.
I looked at it for a moment. And then at the taco guy, who had been about to hand somebody a couple of huge white paper bags. I licked my lips. And then I walked over and tugged the bags out of his frozen fingers.
I’d feel bad about it later. Right now all I felt was hunger. I clutched my ill-gotten meal to my chest and stepped over the river of grease. And a fallen tourist. And a hovering bird. And then I rounded the corner—
To find that the time bubble I’d inadvertently created didn’t extend out quite this far. A potted fern’s fronds rustled slightly in the breeze from an air conditioner vent. A chicken caught inside a security guard’s uniform stopped struggling to stare at me out of the neck hole. And a trio of women by one of the elevators exchanged glances.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. I got on. One of the women started to say something, but I held up a hand. It had taco sauce on it. “Next time,” I rasped, “try calling.”
“Calling?”
“I’m in the book,” I told her savagely.
And then the doors shut and I was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
So good. Oh God, so freaking—
There was a knock on the door. I looked up from the feast that was spread out on my bedspread, and glared at it. But, apparently, my mood did not communicate itself through the foam-core, because a moment later, the door opened.
A vampire looked in.
I hid my food as best I could, and snarled at him.
He backed up slightly, hands raised. “Jeez. I mean . . . Jeez,” he said, gray eyes wide.
“Go. Away,” I warned, and shoved another nacho in my face.
“Yeah, uh, yeah. Only Marco said to ask you—” He broke off, looking at something. “Hey, is that mole—”
“Get out!” And he suddenly disappeared.
Not left, disappeared.
I panicked for a second, but then I saw him, not mentally the way I had when I’d shifted someone once before, but running in a panic past the open door. For a second, I wondered if I’d actually shifted him at all. Vamps could move fast enough to make it look—
But no. The power drain hit a second later, forcing out a groan. Damn, I felt like crap.
No big surprise. The real shock was that I wasn’t dead. Almost constant time shifts for a week, barely pausing for food and sleep before going out again, stopping time—a massive power drain right there—and then shifting somebody . . . no wonder he hadn’t gone but a few feet. I was surprised he’d gone anywhere at all. And now I felt nauseated.
I drank margarita out of a classy foam cup and told my stomach to deal with it. A moment later, another vamp appeared in the doorway.