As I neared the glass doors, my heart beat so loudly I could swear it was audible to everyone around me.
My hand landed on the cool twisted metal of the handle, and I pulled.
Stepping inside the Spires, I witnessed the transformation. Outside was a cold, craggy building made of gray stone, formidable and withstanding time and age, an indomitablefortress. Inside lay the modern wonders one would expect of a casino, albeit with more class than some of the flashier, cheaper places in Casino Alley. The place was decked out in blacks, yellows, and purples, from the banners hanging above attached at the rafters, to the vibrant yellow and purple carpeting, and the black accents along the stone walls.
The electronic chirping and rings from the slot machines echoed my way, amplifying the farther in I wandered. The main floor was enormous, covered in gambling machines where people sat pulling levers, eyes glazed, along with tables for every type of game imaginable. I wasn’t the gambling sort, but here I was putting everything on the line.
Massive glass and silver chandeliers dangled from the ceilings, and swords of every shape and variety were displayed on the walls like they’d been plucked from museums. Opulence and intimidation oozed from every corner of the place. Lavender and vanilla floated my way in the lobby, which surprised me due to the sheer volume of people rolling through. Individuals from every walk of life stumbled in here, rich and poor, human and monster alike, though the elite bypassed the slot machines for private rooms. The sights and sounds drew me in so much I almost stopped midstride, but I continued on, veering toward the left.
The information desk sprawled out in that direction, stone-topped with black facades, and columns in the background gave glimpses of farther beyond, where dealers worked tables with neat efficiency. Dozens of workers bustled behind the desk, some seated, some standing, some mid-motion.
I balled my hands into fists. This was insanity. Lunacy.
Yet my feet carried me forward anyway.
One of the men behind the desk ducked his head as he squinted at something glaring on the computer screen. Unlike some of the others, who appeared high-strung from the way theysnipped on the phone, he seemed a bit more chill, so I veered in his direction.
My legs trembled as I came to a stop in front of him, even though I kept my face neutral.
“I’m looking for Hank Taylor.”
The guy blinked at me several times. So many people traveled through here that of course he wouldn’t know who I referred to.
“He was last seen here, but he’s missing,” I said, sweat starting to prick on my palms. “Look, I’m not even asking you to call for your boss…if you could just search the security footage?”
He opened his mouth, clearly coming in with a no.
An older woman with silver streaks through her chestnut hair and a tight bun swept in beside him. “Hank Taylor?”
“Yes.” My lips were dry, and I licked them automatically. The hope felt paltry at this point. Knowing she recognized my father’s name didn’t encourage me, rather it increased the dread that had been circulating through my veins for days now.
“Wait here,” she said, striding away. The click of her heels echoed in these towering ceilings, and I wrung my hands together behind my back, just to release some of the pent-up energy swirling inside me that was growing, growing, growing.
“Amelia will be right back,” the guy behind the computer said, continuing to type away. “She’s just making a quick call.” Well, she wasn’t handling hotel bookings, since this was one of the few casinos that didn’t operate as a hotel as well. Instead, Cillian Ashmore lived in the entire upper part of the castle, which was blocked off from the public.
Would she be bringing my father to the desk, or something far worse?
Somehow, I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough for the former.
Fuck. I took a few steps back, not sure even where I’d run if I was escorted out…or worse. Sweat prickled across my back as I glanced in the direction Amelia had disappeared in, and a fewof the workers behind the desk glanced my way, their wide and worried expressions not setting me at ease. What the hell had I launched into motion?
Minutes passed by with no sign of her, and I shifted side to side.
Maybe I could leave. Pretend I’d never cracked open this box. Just slip out the way I came in.
My gaze slid over to the elevator on my right, the one cordoned off with velvet rope. The light on it flashed, the sound of the descent echoing off the polished floors and into the rafters. It wasn’t until I realized all the workers had paused and were also staring at the elevator that my internal alarm bells started ringing.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
The doors of the elevator slid open, and an audible gasp echoed around the room, whether from one person or a dozen, I couldn’t tell.
The moment a figure emerged from it, I understood why.
Massive didn’t begin to describe him. From his towering frame to his bright red skin to the curled black horns on his head, it was evident a demon had arrived. He wore a crisp charcoal suit—clearly tailored, from its sheer size and delicate designs on the lapels—that clung to his body like it belonged there. Even beneath the suit, he was clearly muscular, his neck thick and corded, his shoulders the broadest I’d ever seen.
