rumbled open. Outside, a middle-aged couple waited with impatient âtudes. Anybody with a grain of sense would have known not to get in that elevator, given the body language of the three of us already inside, but these two were clearly self-absorbed to the point of impairment. The womanâfat, fifties, fabulously well keptâwas complaining about the quality of the preserves on the breakfast tray as she petted a white rat of a dog. She crowded in. Hubby rumbled across the threshold after her.
âExcuse me,â the matron said to me, clearly expecting me to move back and give her royal personage more breathing room. She raked me with a comprehensive fashion-police inspection from head to toe, then Rahel. âAre you guests here?â With the strong implication that we were working the hotel by the hour. Rahel shot me a glance out of eyes that had moderated themselves to merely amber. Still striking, but in a human fashion-model kind of way. She showed perfect teeth when the woman glared at her, but it wasnât a smile.
âNo, maâam,â Rahel said equably. âHotel security. May I see your room keys?â
The matron huffed and fluffed like a winter sparrow. Hubby dug a key card from his pocket. Rahel took it in inch-and-a-half-blue-taloned hands, studied it intently, and handed it back. âVery good. Have a nice day.â For some reason, I had the strong impression that key card wouldnât be working the next time they tried it.
Another musical ding, and the elevator doors parted like the Red Sea. The couple stalked haughtily out into the arched marble foyer. I started to get out, too, but the doors snapped shut in front of meâfast and hard, like the serrated jaws of an animal trap.
Davidâs eyes flared back to copper. Rahelâs flashed back to bitter, glowing yellow. There was so much power crackling in the air it stung my skin.
âOkay, canât we just talk this over?â I asked, and then the elevator dropped. I mean, dropped. Fell straight down. I yelped and grabbed for a handhold, but there was no need; my feet stayed firmly on the carpeted floor. Neither David nor Rahel flinched, of course. I hated not being the coolest one in the room.
âDonât make me do this,â David said, as steadily as if we werenât in free fall. âI donât want to fight you.â
âWouldnât be much of a fight,â Rahel replied, and at her sides, her fingernails clicked together in a dry, bony rhythm. They were changing color, from neon blue to neon yellow. The pantsuit morphed to match. I knew, without quite knowing why, that these were Rahelâs natural colors, that she was pulling power away from fripperies like outward manifestations tofocus it inside. She was gathering her strength. âWe both know it, and I have no wish to hurt you worse than youâve already hurt yourself.â
The downward drop of the elevator slowed, but there was no way any of this was natural. Even if weâd been headed for the basement, I didnât really believe that it was fifteen floors down from the lobby. No, we were well into Djinn geography now. Human rules applied only as a matter of politeness and convenience. The elevator was a metaphor, and we were arriving at another plane of existence. Dangerland, next stop. Ladiesâ lingerie and life-threatening surprises.
âIâm not taking her to him. Not yet.â David again, this time very soft, deceptively even.
Rahel grinned. âWho are you afraid for, David? Snow White, or yourself?â
âSheâs not ready.â
âThen sistah girl better get her ass ready. You broke the law, David. Sooner or later, you knew youâd have to explain yourself.â
Broke the law? I blinked and dragged my eyes away from Rahelâs glittering, neon-bright menace, and saw that David had gone very still. Iâd seen that look before, when heâd been faced with slavery
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