“I wonder why the timing of sundown matters if we’re inside,” Taryn says as we approach the street entrance of the Venetian’s Palazzo hotel and casino.

“I’m guessing because there are huge skylights that allow plenty of light into the space.”

She nods thoughtfully. “That makes me even more sure that this is the place we need to be.”

“Let’s hope so, or we’ve lost an entire day.”

We pored over the clue again today, hoping to come up with ideas on what the rest of it could mean, but we didn’t get any further than we did last night. Hopefully things will be clearer once we’re inside the Waterfall Atrium.

I grab the large gold handle of one of the doors featuring ornate geometric patterns and hold it open for her. Then she does the same for me at the next set of doors. Instead of grabbing it above her head and insisting she enter first like I normally would, I thank her and take her free hand as I pass, pulling her along with me. That earns me a smile that lights me up inside.

I know Taryn is used to being catered to, but I don’t think she enjoys it the way most people in high society do. I’m the same way. I’d rather do something myself than have anyone do it for me. Consequently, I also enjoy doing things for those I care about.

But I get the feeling there’s a fine line with what Taryn is comfortable with me doing for her, so I’m paying attention and following her lead. That told me she’s good with my chivalry as long as I’m good with hers. And I am.

The Palazzo was designed for modern opulence with a nod toward Italian architecture. We enter the casino on ornate marble floors, and circle around a fragrant indoor garden surrounded by Renaissance-style columns and arches that sit below an intricately detailed domed skylight. As we get closer to the casino floor, the cacophony of voices blends with the clinking of chips, the clattering of dice, and the ringing of slot machines to create a symphony that is inherent to Sin City.

Finally, we reach the atrium with the sound of cascading water flowing over a towering wall and into a shallow pool adorned with lush greenery and vibrant orchids. The space is bathed in the natural light filtering through a glass ceiling high above, illuminating the intricate mosaics on the floor and the elegant stone sculptures nestled among tropical plants. And in front of the waterfall is the gigantic, red metal sculpture that says LOVE.

I check the time. “About fifteen minutes until we lose the light and have to wait another twenty-four hours to try again. Whatever we’re doing, we need to do it fast.”

“Great, no pressure or anything,” she says wryly. “Okay, we have the first part of the first line and now we’re looking for ‘two reveal where secrets fade.’ So I’m guessing we need to find two of something in, on, or around the waterfall.”

“Sounds like a plan. Shield glamours up and let’s get to it.”

Walking around the waterfall, we analyze it from every angle possible. We investigate the flowers, the planters, and the sculptures of chubby cherubs. We even go up to the second floor where the waterfall starts, flowing across an expanse of tiles before plummeting over the edge. But we don’t find two of anything that’s keeping faded secrets.

Back at the bottom, I’m acutely aware of the sun sinking lower with the way the bottom of the orange glow is getting higher on the curtain of water.

“We’re running out of time, Finn.”

“I know.” I mutter a curse and shove a hand through my hair. Desperate enough to try anything, I close my eyes and focus on the image of the elder male I saw in my vision yesterday, praying to Rhiannon it’ll provoke another one of him placing the second clue. But the more I want it to happen, the more my mind feels like a black void of nothingness. “Godsdamn it, this is⁠—”

“Wait! Do you see that?”

My eyes snap open. “What?”

She lifts both arms and points to two spots on either side of the waterfall. “Those shadows in the bordering marble,” she says excitedly. “They weren’t there a second ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

I step into the shallow pool, heedless of the fact that my shoes are now soaked through, and the bottoms of my jeans are quickly taking on water. Reaching up, I run my fingers over one of the shallow half-moon shadow that’s about as wide as a fifty-cent piece. “There’s a divot. That’s why we needed to be here at sundown. We couldn’t see it until the angle of the sun passed a certain point.”

“Genius,” she says. “Now what?”

I examine the area, looking for anything that might move or shift. The Palazzo is less than twenty years old, making the construction and materials new enough that they haven’t started to break down yet. The surface of the pale green marble is smooth with the exception of the shallow divot that’s less than the depth of my fingertip. Even the best rock climbers in the world would have a hard time gripping onto something this⁠—

The stone shifts under my finger as it completed my thought about the rock climber hanging without me realizing it. It feels like a depressed button, and as I hold it down, a two-inch circle above it slides back about half an inch, then clicks into place as it catches on some kind of internal mechanism.

“There’s one,” I say and slosh my way over to the other side and do the same thing. “And two.” But when the second circle clicks and holds, the other one is released and becomes flush in its original position again. “Shit.”

“Keep your finger on that one.” Taryn hops into the pool and presses down on the small ledge, but nothing happens. She has to speak loud to be heard over the thousands of gallons of water rushing between us. “Maybe we need to push them at the same time. Can you reset yours?”

I press it again and it resets. The waterfall spans about three of my wingspans across. If this works, it’s another instance that proves I wouldn’t have been able to do this alone.

When I give her a nod that I’m ready, she says, “On the count of three. One, two, three.”

We push our buttons simultaneously, and this time both circles click and lock into place. I keep my eyes trained on the waterfall as I take a few steps back, afraid I’ll miss whatever it is we’re looking for next.

“Finn, the tiles behind the water. Are they turning translucent or am I just projecting what I want to happen?”

“If you are then so am I.”

The colored tiles in the center haven’t disappeared entirely, but they’ve taken on the appearance of something like a hologram; there but not there. It’s a rectangular opening above the standing water in the pool of maybe four feet high by two feet wide.

We move in closer for a better look, the mist and random droplets from the falling water dotting our faces. A few of her curls are clinging to her cheeks, compelling me to tuck them behind her ear as another excuse to touch her.

“This is it! The next part of the clue,” she says excitedly. “Past the veil of waters bright. We need to go through it.”

“I guess we’ll just have to hope it’s only a dark room and not a black hole.” Gesturing toward the suspicious entrance, I tease, “Age before beauty, as they say.”

She narrows her cat-like eyes at me, then switches to a devious grin. “Don’t worry, little princeling. I’m happy to go first and protect you from the Big Bad Whatever that’s lurking in there.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to look stern despite the smile fighting for dominance. “We agreed you wouldn’t call me that anymore.”

“We agreed I wouldn’t call you ‘little Darkling.’ Very different.”

Chuckling, I give up the hardass routine and hook an arm around her waist to draw her against me. Thankful for the shielding glamour, my other hand frames the side of her face, and I kiss her with all the passion of a male going off to battle. Just because I can.

Eventually, I force myself to break the kiss when I’d much rather see how well our shields work and lay her down in the water right where we stand. Taking advantage of the seconds it takes her to get her bearings from our kiss, I step through the curtain of water and holographic tiles into the pitch black.

Taryn immediately follows, not even giving me time to extend a hand to help her through. “That kiss was a trick.”

“Not a trick, solnyshka. It was genuine need for your smart mouth with a bonus effect of avoiding your argument against my inner Neanderthal’s need to protect you from potential harm. Very different,” I say, echoing her earlier rationale. I know she’s not really miffed when I hear the half-hearted scoff. “Now, where do you suppose Grandmother Moira hid the light switch?”

A purple flame the size of a torch appears above her open palm, illuminating the passageway and casting dancing shadows on us in all our soaked-to-the-bone glory. Taryn’s curls are much longer, weighed down from the water, their tips brushing the upper swells of her breasts above the low neckline of her black top. Her matching cotton shorts are plastered to her thighs, but with her favorite Birkenstock sandals and half the amount of wet material on her body, she’s a lot better off than me in my boots, jeans, and T-shirt.

“That’s a handy party trick,” I say, nodding to her flame as I try to rub the water out of my hair.

Taryn gives me a droll look. “So help me Brigid, Verran, if you start calling me something ridiculous like Switch, I will shave off your eyebrows while you sleep.”

A hearty laugh bursts from my chest. Lacing my fingers with the ones on her free hand, I carefully lead us farther into the passageway. “Don’t worry, Switch is something I’d never call you.”

“And why is that?”

I stop to pull her in again, making every excuse I can to touch her. Dipping my head, I speak into the pointed shell of her ear. “Because in my world, a switch is someone who enjoys both dominating and submitting. And last night you submitted to me so beautifully, so completely, I can’t imagine you wanting it any other way. Am I wrong, little sun?”