Chapter Eleven
As I strolled down the casino’s red-carpeted entrance and tried not to give in to my fantasy of being a superstar actress at a movie premiere, I held my head high and passed the registration desk with my breath held.
Thankfully, no one called to stop me as I entered the main gambling room where neon signs, flashing screens, and otherworldly beeps and screeches assaulted my senses. A gargoyle in a red suit, which stretched so tight around its marble-carved muscles it threatened to burst at the seams, stomped over to me.
“Welcome to Stubbe’s. Your wand, please,” he growled, one hand extended. Right, of course, Belinda the werewolf receptionist told me that magic was forbidden inside the gambling area. But how did they enforce that rule if they didn’t stop anyone at the door
