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“Two teams just came in the front door,” Tremaine warned.
“Give it to me,” Pritkin ordered. I unbuttoned the shrieking dress with shaking fingers and dropped it around my feet, feeling like a flasher. Pritkin grabbed it, and he and Tremaine took off, waving it above the heads of the crowd and drawing the war mages’ attention—for the moment.
I clutched the coat around me and ran in the other direction, toward the employee dressing room. Luckily, I’d worked at the casino for almost a month now, so I had a locker all of my own. Unluckily, its sole contents were a sequined bustier and a pair of three-inch heels.
I slammed it shut, one eye on the doorway, and chewed a nail. Several employees stopped to stare at me, taking in my sunburned face, tangled hair, and filthy, topcoat-clad body. I really needed a shower, but taking one here was out of the question. The only thing worse than getting caught by the Circle was getting caught by the Circle naked. I needed somewhere to recharge, somewhere I could get a change of clothes and a bath, somewhere safe. And only one place came to mind.
Sometimes, it really helps to have a witch for a friend.
Chapter Eleven
A string of furious French was the response to my knock. “I ’ave until four!” I was informed through the door. “Go away!”
I tapped on the door again—carefully—because a powerful witch in a mood is not someone to take lightly. Especially when she knows as many archaic spells as this one. “Francoise—it’s me.”
The door flung open to reveal a really unhappy brunette. Her long hair was everywhere, her chic green and white sundress was streaked with dust and she had a bulging garbage bag in one hand. From the look of things, it contained most of her clothes.
“Cassie!” Her eyes widened and a second later I found myself enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. “I was so worried! I was afraid the Circle ’ad taken you to MAGIC!”
“They did.”
“But . . . ’ow did you escape? Zey say it was destroyed!”
“It’s a long story.” I glanced at the garbage bag. “I take it you’ve been evicted?”
The scowl returned.“Casanova, ’e say zat ze Senate needs my room for one of zere servants. So I must go! Today!”
“There’s a lot of that going around.”
“I ’ad thought to ask if I might stay with you,” she admitted.
“What a coincidence.”
“Mais c’est impossible! You are ze Pythia!”
“And the Consul likes a view.”
Francoise said some uncharitable things about the Consul. Since they were in French—which I’m not supposed to speak—I didn’t contradict her. It was also a fact that they were all true.
I flopped onto the bed. I’d only meant to sit down, but I swear the mattress was spelled. It just pulled me in. I tried to kick my shoes off, but mud had welded them to my feet. I decided I didn’t care.
I lay there for a few minutes, listening to Francoise tear the room apart. “Any ideas?” I finally asked.
Francoise grimaced. “Randolph ’as an apartment.”
“Randy?” I opened an eye to watch her flush slightly. “Tall, corn-fed, crew-cut blond with biceps like boulders? That Randy?”
“When ’e ’eard that ze employees ’ave to move, ’e called me.”
I rolled over onto my stomach and propped my chin in my hand. “Did he?”
The flush became a blush. “’E ’as an extra room.”
“Uh-huh.” And I’m sure he meant for her to stay in it, too.
She sighed. “’E ees very ’andsome, non?”
“Yeah.” If you liked the laid-back surfer boy type, Randy was the man. He was also a genuinely nice guy, for someone possessed by an incubus. “So what’s the problem?”
