that. So imagine thousands of people betting on everything, twenty-four hours a day. It just kept building and building and the Oddsmakers realized someone nasty was going to come along and try to take advantage of it all. So they decided to begin monitoring the place to make sure no one was tapping into it for the wrong reasons or being sloppy and revealing magick to ordinary people."
It was interesting, and I wanted to know more, but history needed to take a backseat to my current nervousness. "But who are they?" I pressed. "Some of the original Oddsmakers must be dead by now. Were they replaced?"
Melanie could only shrug. "I don't think my dad knows anything about who they are. I'm not sure that anyone does."
"When you find out, Anne," Christian said, "let the rest of us know."
"Ha ha," I muttered at his unsubtle suggestion that I would be picked up soon and brought in for questioning.
He laughed at my sour expression. He was of zero interest to the Oddsmakers, so this discussion probably meant little to him. Unless he planned on putting on a SeaWorld show in the lake in front of Bellagio, no ordinary human was ever going to learn that Christian was a water fey.
"I'm teasing, but the fact of the matter is you can't stop it if it happens," he went on more seriously, "so why worry about it? If they want you, there's nothing you can do to avoid them."
"Do they have an email address? I'd love to write and tell them that the dragon that was out there tonight was not my doing." With a sigh, I settled back in my seat. "I'm going to get the blame for this. I know it. But you're right. All I can do is sit back and wait. I don't like that."
"It'll be okay," Melanie assured me with a smile. "Even if they question you, you're innocent. We'll all testify as character witnesses!"
"Are you trying to get me hanged?"
She giggled. The sound relaxed me. I checked how much money I had. "Hey, are you guys hungry? If we go to the Peppermill I'll buy."
Melanie opened her mouth to cheer—
—except I never heard it.
The Toyota Prius flipped. That was how it felt, like my seatbelt cut into my hips and all the blood in my body rushed into my head. Screaming filled my ears, mine or my friends'. I couldn't tell which because the sound was swiftly drowned out by a blast of ferocious sound like a jet plane taking off or a monster roaring—
~~~~~
I was no longer in Melanie's car.
I blinked. Above me was the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, stretching so far in every direction that I couldn't see the edges from where I lay.
But was it really the Sistine Chapel? The longer I stared at the frescos above me the more wrong they appeared. The painted figures within the scenes of Genesis were all subtly but definitively unnatural: a fang here, a claw and tail there, a cruel twist of the mouth that I was sure Michelangelo had not intended. It was ancient Italian bizarro world.
Compelled by curiosity, I eventually located the iconic depiction of God extending his finger to create Adam. Just like everything else, it was warped. This version of Adam held a wand, the tip of which glowed with magick where God touched it. And God…well, he looked like someone you didn't want to turn your back on. He reminded me a bit of a werewolf.
I said, "Is this…is this someone's fanart ?"
The sound of my voice startled me. I spread my hands flat beneath me on what felt like cold, hard concrete. Breathing through my mouth, I did my best not to freak out. Where had the car gone? Where were my friends?
Where the hell was I?
"A better reaction than most, Anne Moody. A point in your favor."
The voice was a young woman's, but that only made the hairs stand up on my arm because there was no way someone my age could be responsible for what had just happened to me.
Inwardly cringing, I stood up. The thought crossed my mind that I could call Lucky, but I paid no attention to it. Using my sorcery against the Oddsmakers sounded like the worst thing I could
It was interesting, and I wanted to know more, but history needed to take a backseat to my current nervousness. "But who are they?" I pressed. "Some of the original Oddsmakers must be dead by now. Were they replaced?"
Melanie could only shrug. "I don't think my dad knows anything about who they are. I'm not sure that anyone does."
"When you find out, Anne," Christian said, "let the rest of us know."
"Ha ha," I muttered at his unsubtle suggestion that I would be picked up soon and brought in for questioning.
He laughed at my sour expression. He was of zero interest to the Oddsmakers, so this discussion probably meant little to him. Unless he planned on putting on a SeaWorld show in the lake in front of Bellagio, no ordinary human was ever going to learn that Christian was a water fey.
"I'm teasing, but the fact of the matter is you can't stop it if it happens," he went on more seriously, "so why worry about it? If they want you, there's nothing you can do to avoid them."
"Do they have an email address? I'd love to write and tell them that the dragon that was out there tonight was not my doing." With a sigh, I settled back in my seat. "I'm going to get the blame for this. I know it. But you're right. All I can do is sit back and wait. I don't like that."
"It'll be okay," Melanie assured me with a smile. "Even if they question you, you're innocent. We'll all testify as character witnesses!"
"Are you trying to get me hanged?"
She giggled. The sound relaxed me. I checked how much money I had. "Hey, are you guys hungry? If we go to the Peppermill I'll buy."
Melanie opened her mouth to cheer—
—except I never heard it.
The Toyota Prius flipped. That was how it felt, like my seatbelt cut into my hips and all the blood in my body rushed into my head. Screaming filled my ears, mine or my friends'. I couldn't tell which because the sound was swiftly drowned out by a blast of ferocious sound like a jet plane taking off or a monster roaring—
~~~~~
I was no longer in Melanie's car.
I blinked. Above me was the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, stretching so far in every direction that I couldn't see the edges from where I lay.
But was it really the Sistine Chapel? The longer I stared at the frescos above me the more wrong they appeared. The painted figures within the scenes of Genesis were all subtly but definitively unnatural: a fang here, a claw and tail there, a cruel twist of the mouth that I was sure Michelangelo had not intended. It was ancient Italian bizarro world.
Compelled by curiosity, I eventually located the iconic depiction of God extending his finger to create Adam. Just like everything else, it was warped. This version of Adam held a wand, the tip of which glowed with magick where God touched it. And God…well, he looked like someone you didn't want to turn your back on. He reminded me a bit of a werewolf.
I said, "Is this…is this someone's fanart ?"
The sound of my voice startled me. I spread my hands flat beneath me on what felt like cold, hard concrete. Breathing through my mouth, I did my best not to freak out. Where had the car gone? Where were my friends?
Where the hell was I?
"A better reaction than most, Anne Moody. A point in your favor."
The voice was a young woman's, but that only made the hairs stand up on my arm because there was no way someone my age could be responsible for what had just happened to me.
Inwardly cringing, I stood up. The thought crossed my mind that I could call Lucky, but I paid no attention to it. Using my sorcery against the Oddsmakers sounded like the worst thing I could
Similar Books
The World Above
Cameron Dokey
Arsonist
Victor Methos
Jack in the Box
Hania Allen
Por qué ganaron los aliados
R. J. Overy
An Unlikely Friendship
Ann Rinaldi
Sparrow Nights
David Gilmour
Her Dark Knight
Sharon Cullen
WANTON
Cheryl Holt
The Tudor Secret
C. W. Gortner