Demon Fate

by Tori Centanni

  “It was a busy night. We had several events going on and throngs of people.”

  I picked up the photo and squinted at it. The dagger was pretty, sure, and no doubt valuable, but it didn’t look worth risking one’s hide for. And stealing from a dragon was pretty much asking to be flayed alive.

  “What does the dagger do?” I asked, or started to ask. I wasn’t sure how much of the sentence I actually spoke because the world swayed sideways and blackness flooded in.

  The dark came with a wave of icy air, this time, freezing and empty. My lips and tongue immediately felt dry. I closed my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut against the freezing cold. I opened my eyes and saw only hints of purple on the periphery. I shook my head as if I could shake off the darkness and silence, and then more blue and purple shapes began to materialize in front of me.

  I stared at them, willing them to brighten and bring the world back. Gradually, more color crept in and then the world whooshed back, color and light and sound and heat returning like a gust of wind.

  I blinked.

  Rian sat in front of me, a tiny frown tugging at his lips. “Miss Warren?” he asked. From his wary tone, it wasn’t the first time he’d said my name.

  I swallowed and licked my lips. “Sorry,” I said.

  He narrowed his eyes. “What was that? You trailed off mid-sentence and then remained non-responsive.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted, though it was probably obvious I wasn’t. Pain in my hands drew my attention. I realized I was gripping the arms of the chair for dear life, squeezing so hard my hands had started to cramp. I let go and stretched the muscles.

  “You are not,” Rian said.

  I didn’t argue. I wasn’t. I had no idea what was happening to me but these blackouts were freaky and I did not like them one bit. I needed to get to the root of them and fast. Just as soon as I finished hunting down this thief.

  “The dagger.” I tapped the photograph. “What are its magical properties?”

  He tilted his head, as if trying to determine if I’d lost mine, before he straightened. “Its blade is enchanted to be extra sharp, a spell I understand you’re familiar with.”

  “I may know that one.”

  “It is used in a sacred ceremony among my kind, though one that is rarely performed,” he said. “But otherwise it has no magical properties. It is merely a silver-lined dagger with an extra sharp blade.”

  That was enough to make someone want to steal it, sure. But from a dragon? In a high security casino? It didn’t sound that special. It had value but there were easier things to steal for a better profit. Same with the chalice. I couldn’t understand the thief’s goal here, and that made it hard to determine who might have taken both objects.

  “If someone is stealing ceremonial artifacts from supernaturals, why do you think that is?” I asked. Rian was old and had been in the area for at least a century. He seemed like a good person to ask.

  “I can only guess the thief is either starting a collection or…” He trailed off for a moment, his brow furrowed as a thought seemed to occur to him. “Perhaps the thief is trying to collect a set for a ritual of their own.”

  I shuddered at that thought. I didn’t know what kind of ritual might involve relics from different supernatural groups, but it probably wasn’t anything good.

  “Can I keep this?” I asked, holding up the photo.

  “If you promise to find and return my dagger,” he said.

  My hackles rose and I had to fight the urge to drop the photo on the desk and run for it. Promises in the supernatural world were not just agreements to do your best. They were binding and created obligations. You had to navigate them very carefully.

  “I can’t promise,” I said. “But I will do my best. And if I can retrieve the dagger, I will return it to you.”

  “I suppose that is acceptable.” I let out a breath. That was good. He had ways of making people promise and I really didn’t want to end up obligated to a dragon crime lord at the moment. “And if you do so promptly, there will be a reward as added incentive.”

  “Then I’ll work quickly,” I said, and stood. “I’ll also need your security footage.”

  “You can view that at the casino, of course. I’ll let Willow know you’re coming. She’s my security manager. She’ll let you see whatever you need.”

  With that, he whispered something into his cuff. He must have had some kind of hidden communication device because the woman who’d let me in appeared to walk me back out, handing me my sword as she helped me into the waiting car.

  Chapter 5

  From the outside, Golden River Casino looked like it should be shuttered and demolished. The wooden siding was splintering and the glass windows were coated with grime where they weren’t boarded up. The sign, which read Golden River Motel, had more letters burned out than lit up. No one in their right mind would stay here, especially not with a Holiday Inn less than a mile down the freeway. Which of course was the point.

  Despite its shabby exterior, there were more than a few cameras trained on the parking lot. I spotted them in light fixtures and hidden in planters. There were two cameras flanking the front office’s door, one in the flickering light fixture and another openly displayed.

  The door was solid wood and the office hours had all but rubbed off the window, which had blinds drawn behind it. If the outward appearance of the place hadn’t dissuaded a potential guest, the fact that it didn’t look open might.

  I pulled open the door.

  The office was tiny. There was a single check-in desk about the width of a door, with a curtain hanging behind it. There were no chairs or any place to wait. There was barely enough room for me to stand, let alone haul in a suitcase if I were a real overnight guest.

  The man behind the desk wore jeans and a flannel shirt. He raised his eyebrow.

  “I’m Dani Warren. Rian sent me to look into a recent theft.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said. He lifted a board on the desk to let me pass through and gestured to the curtain. “Right this way.”

  The curtain pulled back to reveal a door that the manager had to unlock. The moment it opened, a cacophony of casino noise filled the small space: the dinging and pinging of slot machines, the shuffling of cards, the constant murmur of conversation, tinny music from cheap speakers from the slots.

  It looked like any other small casino. The carpet was bright red and woven with gold dragon designs. The walls were dark and a low soundtrack of pop hits played overhead, just loud enough to create ambient noise. There were no windows. Any windows seen from the outside were blocked or walled over. Like all casinos, it was impossible to tell what time of day it was and easy to lose track of just how long you’d been sitting at the same slot machine or black jack table. Between the black jack and poker tables was a door that said, “Management Office.” The guy in flannel unlocked it and let me inside before vanishing.

  The management office was more or less a security room. The back wall was made entirely of monitors displaying feeds from cameras all around the casino. Two large black chairs sat in front of the monitors. A desk sat beneath them with several keyboards, computers humming beneath the desk.

  One chair was occupied. The woman sitting in it wore a security uniform, tan edged with dark brown like a mall cop, her silky black hair in a long ponytail.

  She got up and shook my hand. “Willow Lang,” she said, giving me an appraising once-over. “You’re here to find the thief.”

  “I’m here to try,” I said.

  She gestured to the spare chair and I took a seat.

  “I’ll find the footage, but I wish you luck. If it were as easy as watching the tapes, I’d already have cracked it.” There was an edge of irritation in her tone, one I understood well. I’d been underestimated enough to relate.

  “I’m sure it’s not that simple. But I’m working on tracking down another stolen object and I think the thief is the same person.” I pulled up the photo of the chalice on my phone,
zoomed past the mages so the chalice was the only thing in the frame, and spun it around for Willow to see. “This was taken two nights ago with no witnesses and no footage. Anything new helps.”

  Her shoulders relaxed slightly. She turned to one of the keyboards and began typing, directing my attention to the monitor closest to me. The feed switched on, frozen in still frame on three cases of artifacts next to a cash out machine where one could redeem their slot tickets for money. The machine and display cases sat in front of a hall that led to the restrooms, as indicated by an arrow sign hanging above.

  “This was Wednesday night around nine o’clock. You can see the dagger is still in the middle case.”

  I squinted at the screen. Something silvery and metallic was clearly on a red velvet pillow. The cases flanking it held a golden plate of some sort and a blue and white vase. I kept my eyes on the case as she hit play. She fast-forwarded and I watched people zoom in and out of frame, mostly heading to and from the restrooms, though some used the cash out machine or simply passed by. Then the video cut out and went black.

  “This is the sixty-four seconds the thief cut the camera,” Willow said, her voice edged. It was clear she took the tampering of her video equipment as a personal affront.

  “How would someone do that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know for sure but I suspect they used some kind of energy spell to short the feed.”

  My heart picked up its pace. “Why an energy spell?”

  She shrugged. “I checked all the camera’s connections. Everything was fine. And it’s not like anyone was in here messing with the controls. I know because I was in here the whole time. So I figure it was some kind of spell.”

  Magic and electronics could play nice, but throwing enough energy at anything electric could mess it up temporarily. Ask any witch who accidentally cast a circle that included their toaster oven or microwave. Enough magic could short or even ruin an appliance, including a camera.

  The feed came back and suddenly the case in the middle was empty. The dagger was gone.

  “How did the thief get the dagger out of the case?” I asked. The case clearly wasn’t broken.

  “It opens from the bottom,” she said.

  “Isn’t there some kind of alarm on it?” I’d seen better security in museums and I was surprised that Rian hadn’t gone all out for precious artifacts.

  She gave a half-roll of her eyes. “I’ve mentioned the need for better security for our displays but no one listened. Rian thinks we already have top-notch security and doesn’t see the value in more. And I guess they assumed it would be suicidal to steal from a dragon, and that the cameras and security personnel on site were enough to dissuade anyone from being tempted.”

  “That seems pretty short-sighted,” I said.

  “Yeah, but then again, this is the first time anything’s ever been stolen. Maybe now Rian will beef up my budget.”

  Willow brought up other feeds: the front entrance, the side entrance, the slot area next to the cases. In all of them, throngs of people hustled down walkways and crowded the halls. A group of young people in matching blue uniforms—a class from the local Herbology and Potions Academy, where witches went to start a career as a healer for the Council—crowded the hall around the case.

  “This was at eight, an hour before the theft,” Willow explained. She showed me footage of hundreds of people passing through the casino to the conference room or hanging out at the slots. Rian was right: there were way more people than usual crowding the small casino. Cocktail servers had to dance through the heavy traffic to deliver drinks.

  “What about exits?” I asked.

  “We have six emergency exits, but those are wired to go off if opened,” she explained. “This is the back exit to the back parking lot. Security does rounds by it frequently. On Wednesday, there was even a security officer posted there but he had gone to check on some problem in the high stakes area. Some guy having a fit and accusing someone else of cheating. He shouldn’t have left his post but we were overwhelmed and understaffed.”

  She pulled up the tape from the backdoor. Again, there were way too many people going out the back door to really track anyone. A guard stood there intermittently, but left from time to time to handle other problems. All the thief would have to do was wait for the guard to leave or even just exit with a group to avoid suspicion.

  “What’s the back parking lot like?” I asked. “Is it secure or could someone come in that way?”

  “It’s gated and fenced. People need passes to take vehicles in and out,” Willow explained.

  A familiar figure appeared on the tape. My hair stood on end. The mage who’d attacked me was in the crowd, exiting with a large group. Most of them wore jackets or sweatshirts, but this guy had his hood pulled up over his head and he wore a trench coat over the hoodie.

  “Stop,” I said. I pointed to the figure. “That’s the thief.”

  Willow’s brows knit together. “How can you tell?” she asked. “He’s got a big coat but so do lots of these folks.” She pointed to several other people wearing long jackets in the same frame.

  “Because he—or she or whatever—attacked me when I was looking for the chalice. No way it’s a coincidence to find him here a minute after the dagger was stolen.”

  She frowned and began zipping through footage again. There was no sign of the guy in the hood and trench coat anywhere else. Just there at the exit. “How is that possible? He had to come in.”

  “He didn’t have to be wearing the hood when he did, though.” I leaned forward as Willow rewound the digital footage and we started all over. Finally, near the entrance around eight-thirty, I spotted a figure with a duffel bag. “There. That’s our guy.”

  Willow hit a key to save and then zoomed in. The figure’s blond hair was a middle length that hung around their chin. They had a narrow build and wore jeans and a plain blue sweater. Their back was to the camera—of course—and when Willow tried to pull up other angles, all we got was a blur of them moving to the bathroom in front of the dagger’s case. There was no clear shot of the culprit’s face.

  She printed out screen shots of the figure from both angles.

  “Afraid that won’t help much,” Willow said, handing me the print outs.

  “It’s better than what I came in with,” I assured her. “For one thing, we know the culprit has been in before. They knew where the cameras were. They were careful to avoid getting their face on any footage. They knew where the dagger was. They had a plan: they came in and went to the bathroom, no doubt to change before using magic to disable the camera. This was a meticulously planned theft.”

  Willow sighed. “And I’m guessing it’s no accident they committed the crime on the same day as two large groups were visiting the casino.”

  “Probably not.”

  Willow made a note on her computer. “You think it could be an inside job?”

  I shrugged. “Does Rian have a mage in his employ?”

  “I don’t think so, but a lot of the security team are human.” Willow was a witch. I could tell by the faint blue glow around her aura. Mages had a faint green glow. It would be hard to disguise.

  “Maybe the thief had help from someone else who works here?” I suggested.

  Willow scrunched up her forehead and considered, maybe going through a mental rolodex of her coworkers. After a long moment she said, “I do think it’s possible, but I can’t imagine who. Then again, I don’t exactly know all of the employees that well.”

  That was fair. “Keep thinking on it and ask around. If anyone comes up as suspicious, let me know.”

  “Will do.”

  “How many days of footage do you keep?” I asked. If the mage was working alone, he had cased the place.

  “Thirty days. It gets deleted after that.”

  I nodded and stood, handing Willow my card. “Can you go over it and see if you spot our suspect? Call me if you do.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Where are you goin
g?”

  “I’m going to check the display case and the bathroom. They probably took the duffel bag out under their coat, but on the off chance they left it behind…” I turned my palms out in a worth a shot gesture.

  I left the security room and quickly found the display of three cases.

  The vase and the golden plate were still in place. The middle case was empty, save for the velvet display pillow. I examined the glass. I lifted it up, bracing myself for an alarm despite knowing there wasn’t one. It was hard to believe Rian had forgone such a basic security measure. But then, Willow had a point: this casino had been in operation at least twenty years. If no displays had ever been so much as touched before, it might have seemed pointless to worry about it. Rian had installed what he thought was enough: cameras, trained guards, alarms on the emergency exits.

  I set the glass box on top of the one with the golden plate and pulled out my lock picks. The tiny metal lock in the bottom was simple and only took twenty-two seconds to pick. The thief had the camera off for a little over a minute, which was more than enough time to grab the dagger, put the case back, and head to the exit.

  I did a quick sweep of the lady’s restroom. It was empty and there was nothing shoved in any nooks or ceiling tiles. I knocked on the men’s and when no one protested, I went in. The bathroom was clean and spotless, like the lady’s. At least Rian’s crew ran a tight ship.

  I checked the stalls for any places someone might stow a duffel. I looked under the sink and in the paper towel holder. Nothing. The thief had probably hidden it under their coat rather than leaving evidence behind. Shame.

  I was about to leave when the darkness overtook me. It came fast this time, like an oncoming train. One minute everything was normal and the next, my vision had narrowed to a fine point before all the light and sound vanished into a void.

  I tried to take a step and lost my balance and everything went sideways before it stopped.

  Chapter 6