“Ariel?” says a familiar hypnotic voice. “Are you having fun without me?”
Turning, I recognize Gaius. With his sunshades raised to his forehead, I can see his arctic-sky eyes zero in on Ariel like self-guided missiles.
Removing the threat from Chester’s neck, Ariel puts her hair back up. The awl vanishes so smoothly I’m tempted to ask her how she did it, so I can add the move to my repertoire of sleights.
“It was great chatting with you ladies.” Chester puts some unfamiliar-looking bills on the counter and stands up, muttering, “And I use that term loosely.”
He saunters away, with Ariel staring at him like she’d like to spear his back with her awl (and throw some daggers for good measure).
“Why didn’t you come find me on the ninth level?” Gaius asks Ariel. His smooth voice doesn’t mat
