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Math Draco arrived at the Dragon’s Den Casino after an early-morning flight.
And by “flight,” yes, he let his dragon anima out andflewthere, a duffel bag tangled around one hind claw. The sun warmed his wings as he flew over the forested San Bernardino Mountains and then the wide expanse of the Mojave Desert to Las Vegas.
He landed on the roof of the building, snapped back into his human form, dressed in a suit from the duffel, and found an open door to the building’s stairwell system. He’d rent a car later, and he had enough suits for the couple of weeks or so he’d need to sort out this mess.
He poked his head out of the stairwell on the penthouse floor.
The hallway was carpeted and painted, but no art hung on the wide, blank walls. There weren’t any little tables or other furnishings like on most penthouse hallways, either.
Math took one of his master keycards from his pocket and swiped it through the card reader of one of the smaller suites.
The lock clicked under his hand.
Inside, the penthouse suite looked like a construction zone.
Board ends and sawdust littered the carpeting. Dust hazed the wide windows. Again, no couches or tables stood in the dining and living rooms, and as he stuck his head through the door, he found no bed in the bedroom.
Four more penthouse suites were in the same empty and dirty condition.
One had a bed and other furnishings, but the construction debris hadn’t been cleaned up before the furniture had been dumped haphazardly around the suite.
Oh, jeez. This was worse than Math had thought.
And he was only on the top floor of the building.
As he clattered down the stairwell, his duffel bag swinging from his shoulder, he ducked into more hallways. Most of the hotel rooms were unfurnished. All were dirty.
Math stashed his duffel bag in one of the less filthy but smaller rooms that only had a queen-size bed in it. His feet were going to hang off the end.
At the casino level, things got worse.
The gaming tables and slot machines had been moved in, but the construction workers were still working on the trim and interior walls of the upper floors. Power saws screamed through wood, and hammering echoed through the air. Music twanged over the noise.
Sawdust and plaster grit floated in sunbeams from skylights, drifting and settling on the green felt of the blackjack and poker tables and the thick carpeting.
The powdering of dust on everything thickened as he stood there, watching.
He pushed through the revolving doors that led out the front. Late-spring desert sunlight beat down on him, heating his dark hair and warming his shoulders through his suit.
The fountain out front—the centerpiece of the casino, a dancing-water spectacle that was to feature towering displays of acrobatic water—was off.
He approached it.
When Math was halfway across the wide cement courtyard, the huge casino and hotel towering behind him and glaring in the hot sunlight, the smell became noticeable. At first, the scent was almost pleasant, like mown grass and a distinct green aroma.
As he neared the thigh-high retaining wall around the fountain, the smell thickened.
The odor swirled and condensed as he approached it, becoming more like fermenting cabbage, and then cat vomit, and then a rotting, open sewer.
Math swallowed hard, doing his best not to gag, and leaned over the fountain.
Inside the fountain’s pool, the dark green, syrupy water rippled gently. Patches of red algae floated atop the sludge. Brown lumps bobbed to the surface and sank again. Algae tendrils climbed up and over the sides of the pool and completely encrusted all the mechanics with black and green fur.
He stepped back and thenjoggedbackward before gulping fresher air.
The Dragon’s Den Casino was in a lot worse shape than he had been led to believe, and it would take a miracle to have it ready for the angel investors’ walk-through in a month.
He sprinted through the casino and to the financial department, where four people were sharing a couple of pizzas and drinking beer.
“What the hell is going on?” Math demanded.
One of the guys leaned back in his chair. “You must be the new guy that DD Inc. was sending today. I’m Folant Vishap, head of Finance.”
Math pointed to the door. “The casino is in shambles. The fountain is disgusting. And I need you to open your damn spreadsheets right now!”
The guy slowly pulled his feet off his desk. “Yeah, about the finances. Olwenna Zomok was in charge of overseeing requisitions and approving funds, and she quit suddenly last week. I’ll bet her books are a mess.”
