And no, I thought blankly, those weren’t paparazzi.
“—but no. Couturier to the Pythia and do I rate so much as a mention?” Augustine asked, while on the concourse across from the shop, an army was assembling. They looked like tourists, but they weren’t. And I didn’t need the bracelet almost vibrating off my wrist to tell me that.
“Mon Dieu,” Françoise whispered as a wave of power washed over us like a hot breeze, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. And the tacky T-shirts, too-tight shorts, and beer bellies of the crowd to ripple and change. And melt into what would have looked like black commando gear, if not for the long coats that commandos don’t bother with, because they don’t carry weapons that they mind everyone seeing.
War mages do.
Only I didn’t think these were ours.
It looked like nobody else did, either, because Françoise suddenly turned and bolted for the counter, and the Graeae released Augustine, who hit the floor along with half his merchandise. Something slammed into place in front of the shop a second later, an almost transparent field wavering just beyond the pretty bow windows, which would have looked more at home on a Rue de Something in Paris than in the Wild, Wild West, because Augustine gave a crap about Dante’s theming.
He obviously felt the same way about its wards, because that was a shield flickering out there, not that it mattered.
It wouldn’t hold against that kind of firepower.
There wasn’t a lot that would.
“CASSIE PALMER.”
“CASSIE PALMER.”
“CASSIE PALMER IS IN—”
I grabbed for my phone, before remembering that I didn’t have it on me. And Françoise was already on the house one behind the counter, presumably calling security. But the casino’s guys were used to dealing with drunks and shoplifters and people who won a little too regularly for chance. They couldn’t handle this.
My guys could.
“Here.” I looked up to find Carla holding out a phone. I took it and punched in the number I knew best while kiddo did a twirl on the tile, her pink tutu swirling out around her. I stared at it and tried to get my thoughts in order.
It didn’t seem to be going so well.
My brain kept insisting that this wasn’t supposed to happen. This happened other places, and then I came back here to eat and sleep and banter with my bodyguards in safety. Unless I tripped over one of the cots that were currently strewn around my suite, that is, because the court I’d recently ended up with needed a place to sleep.
And oh God.
My court.
“CASSIE PALMER.”
“CASSIE PALMER.”
“CAS—”
Pick up, pick up, pick up, I thought as the phone rang and rang. It was midmorning, not a vampire’s favorite time of day, but normally my bodyguards worked around the clock. But yesterday hadn’t exactly been normal.
Not that I was sure what that was anymore. But I was fairly certain it didn’t include an almost-dead master vampire, who happened to be the font of energy for the extended family that ran this hotel. Including the group of senior-level masters who formed my bodyguard, and who were normally miniature armies all to themselves. But who had been left limp as rag dolls after he was forced to almost drain them to keep himself alive.
Which might explain why this attack was happening now.
And why nobody was answering the goddamn phone.
“CASSIE PALMER.”
“CASSIE PALMER.”
“CA—”
“Get back! Get ba—” I yelled at the reporter, who didn’t need