“We don’t have to,” Conall says from where he’s crouched behind the left side of the N. “This side is on a pole that’s cemented into the ground. And see here? There’s grease under these couplings for lubrication, which means the sign can probably swing out.”
Finn doesn’t waste time testing Conall’s theory. He moves over to the right side of the sign and pulls. Sure enough, it pivots on the pole, allowing us access to the doors on the shipping container.
“I’ll be damned,” Connor says as Finn lifts the latch on one of the doors. “Anyone else feel like we’re in a Scooby Doo episode?”
“Dibs on being Fred,” Conall says.
Caiden side-eyes his friends, effectively shutting them up. Finn pulls the container door open, which is eerily silent for how old and banged up it is. Inside, two lanterns are on the floor, illuminating an elevator, the old kind that looks more like a decorative cage with doors you have to close yourself.
“It’s the original elevator,” Caiden says. “The ground used to be built up around it, disguising it as part of the landscape. When they developed the area for the museum, someone must have fit this over it to hide it without destroying it.”
Something about this seems odd to me. Curious, I move to get a closer look, picking up one of the lanterns. “These are battery-operated,” I say, noticing the battery compartment on the bottom. “And that door on this rusty, old shipping container didn’t make a sound when Finn opened it.”
Bryn studies the elevator, running her hand over the side. “The clue says ‘a sire lost does guard nearby.’ We thought it was referring to King Braden whose place of rest at the Venetian isn’t far from here. But is it possible someone is literally guarding the spear?”
Everyone glances at the elevator car warily. Then Caiden speaks as the voice of reason. “I think more than likely, Barwyn set this all up for Finn just as he was the one who sent the letter.”
Bryn rejoins her husband and takes his hand. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry, I watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade the other night, so I have the Guardian of the Holy Grail in my mind.”
Connor is studying Caiden intensely, reading something on his face that only someone who’s known him his whole life would see. “You’re holding something back, boss. What is it?”
The eldest Verran sighs and rubs at the stubble on his square jaw. “That’s the most likely scenario. But there is another possibility.”
My eyebrows shoot up and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Which is?”
“Edevane and his minions brought those lamps,” he says, his tone heavy. “And they’re still down there.”
Finn curses under his breath, then turns to me. “Do you sense your magic in here at all?”
I close my eyes and concentrate on feeling the energy of the space around me. After a bit, I open my eyes and shake my head. “No, which means one of three things: he hasn’t been here yet, he was here a while ago and the trail is cold, or he’s low enough on my magic that I can’t sense it.”
Dmitri makes a sound of amusement. “I believe that is what gamblers call a crap shoot.”
“Well, then,” Conall says as he pulls the gun from the back of his waistband and checks the clip before slamming it home. “When in Vegas, baby.”
“Let’s do this.” Connor does the same with his gun, then we all get into the elevator.
Caiden pulls the doors closed and pushes the only button. There’s a slight jarring motion that makes all of us hold our breath, then the car begins lowering smoothly. Once we’re fully below ground level, our view is obstructed by the walls of the elevator shaft. The air seems to buzz with nervous energy as we wonder what we’ll find when we reach the bottom. Will the spear be gone? Is Edevane waiting to ambush us? At least a dozen different scenarios torpedo through my mind, and I try to come up with ways of handling each one so I’m ready for anything.
I’m so lost in thought that I startle when Finn’s hand wraps around mine. Holding my gaze, he lifts it up to place a kiss on the backs of my fingers that instantly settles my nerves. Whatever we face when we reach the bottom, we’ll face together. And knowing that makes me feel like I have an entire army at my back.
When the elevator stops, the Woulfe brothers stand ready to take the lead. Connor has his gun held securely in both hands, pointed at the floor. “Everybody follow us and keep your head on a swivel. Here we go.”
Conall opens the doors, and we file out together into the pitch black. I light flames in both hands, but Caiden tells us to hold on, then the sound of a large switch being thrown echoes through the space. Chandeliers sputter to life, their glow flickering weakly at first before steadily brightening, and I get my first look at Abhaile, the secret, underground gambling hall.
The casino itself looks like something time forgot. Dark velvet drapes line the walls, now faded and moth-eaten. Intricate mosaics of gemstones and stained glass still depict scenes of Dark Fae lore, but their colors are dim, the once-vibrant images now ghostly and spectral.
Tables of mahogany and ebony lie scattered, some overturned, their surfaces covered in a thick layer of dust. The obsidian floor has been dulled by time, though it’s surprisingly clean by comparison.
Crystal glasses, some still half-full with long-evaporated elixirs, sit abandoned, their contents leaving dark, sticky residues. The dealers' tables are empty, their surfaces scratched and worn, yet I can almost hear the echo of murmured conversations and the clinking of glasses.
Finn turns to his brother. “Now where?”
“The high roller room,” Caiden says. “It’s on the far side of the casino.”
I don’t bother voicing that I doubt it will be that easy as we make our way through the main area of the gambling hall, moving slowly and keeping an eye out for danger.
At last, we reach a set of large ornate doors. One of them is open by a few inches, putting us on high alert. The twins stop us, simultaneously holding their fists up next to their heads. I don’t hear anything, but being wolf shifters, their senses are heightened even more than that of regular fae.
They look at each other, then Conall mouths a single word. Blood. Connor nods.
I look to my brother, the flare of his nostrils all the confirmation I need to know he smells it too. A chill trips down my spine, but I’m more than ready to face down whatever’s on the other side of this door.
The Woulfe brothers silently count to three, then we push our way into the room. We stand on guard, our muscles tense, our stances ready to spring into action. But no one jumps out, and no one is waiting, poised to fight us. Staying alert, we take in the scene.
As the room where the high rollers won and lost fortunes, I’m not surprised that it’s even more opulent than where we came from. But there’s no time to appreciate the details, because at a glance we know one thing is for certain: we’re too late.
On the other side of the room, the broken remains of a display case cover the floor. Among the shattered glass and splintered wood lies a spear, broken in half and discarded next to the limp body of an older male. Slumped on his side, his long, white hair covers his face, and his outstretched arm rests in the pool of blood seeping from his chest wound.
I move to help him, but Finn stops me. “Not yet. It could be a trap. Connor?”
“On it,” Connor says, handing his gun over to his brother. Then he magically shifts. His clothes magically disappear as russet-colored fur replaces smooth skin, and he lands on all fours in the form of a massive wolf with paws nearly as big as my head.
I’ve never been this close to a wolf shifter, and I find myself properly awestruck watching Connor run the perimeter of the room, scenting different areas. The tension in the air is palpable as we wait for him to finish while a person lies mortally wounded, possibly already gone.
Seemingly satisfied that we’re not in danger of being ambushed, Connor approaches the male and nudges him with his nose. He grunts in response. Connor takes a few steps back and sits on his haunches, which is apparently the sign for “all clear” because Finn releases my arm and the group rushes forward.
Conall meets his brother’s bright golden eyes and nods. “He says he’s alive, but he doesn’t have long.”
