“I hear she’s back,” Azazel said, as she kicked her legs up on the table, showing off studded black leather boots. She was my top security official and my fiercest blade, able to wield any weapon with ease. Tight black leather was her armor of choice and anger her fuel to fight.
“Yes, and I need you to guard our new guest,” I said. “She’s in my penthouse, and I can’t allow her to leave it unless you’re by her side. I want you protecting her at all times.”
Her face twisted with annoyance, but she nodded. She would never disobey a direct order from me, even if she didn’t want to follow it.
I leaned forward and caught her eye. “I realize being a bodyguard may seem beneath you, but in truth I’ve given you the most important task of them all. Hannah’s life will soon be in danger, and you’re the only one I trust to keep her safe.”
Her annoyance faded and she bowed her head. “I won’t fail you, my lord.”
“What is her name now?” Samael asked, his hands folded calmly on the table.
“Hannah Thorn.”
“Ah. The woman asking about her friend.”
I should have known Samael would already have some information on her. Little happened within these walls that he didn’t know about. “Yes, and we need to find this friend with all haste. She went missing in The Celestial a few days ago.” I pulled out the pad of paper and handed it to him. He scanned it quickly, while I continued. “I also want everything you can dig up on Hannah’s life. Family, boyfriends, work, what she eats for breakfast—I want every single detail.”
"It will be done,” Samael said, with his usual smooth confidence.
I pulled out Hannah’s car keys and room key next, then tossed them to Gadreel. The blond man caught them with quick reflexes. “Gadreel, I need you to go to the Double Down Motel” —I shuddered simply saying the name— “And retrieve her things, along with her car. I trust you can figure out which one it is.”
“Won’t be a problem, my lord,” Gadreel said, as he examined the room key with distaste. Hannah had referred to the Double Down Motel as this cheap place off The Strip. That description oversold it.
“You have your orders. For the time being, let’s keep Hannah’s presence here between the three of us.” I rose to my feet and glanced between my loyal Fallen, while determination burned in my chest. “I lost her before, but I’m not letting her go this time. Not again.”
3
Hannah
As soon as Lucas closed the door behind him, I glanced around the guest room in wonder, still struggling to believe this was all real. Two days ago I’d been packing my bags to head to Vegas to find my friend, and now I would be living here for the next seven nights, at the whim of a man they called the devil. Sure, I’d agreed to the deal, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. Especially now that Lucas was gone and I was alone with my thoughts.
He’d better find Brandy. And alive, too.
Please let her be alive.
I moved to the large window overlooking The Strip and wondered for the hundredth time where she was and what had happened to her. Sunlight glinted off the various hotels and casinos, and I remembered how excited Brandy had been to come here. She’d been invited to a librarian conference over a three-day weekend, winning some award that paid for the entire trip. She’d asked me to come too, to have a girls’ weekend with her in Vegas, but I’d turned her down. My florist shop was small, but it demanded almost all of my attention just to keep it afloat. Plus, I enjoyed working there in the place once owned by my parents, finding exactly the right flowers to brighten people’s homes or convey the things they couldn't always bring themselves to say. No matter how much I’d wanted to go to Vegas with Brandy, I’d said no. Now it was one of my biggest regrets.
She’d gone to Vegas alone, and then she never came home.
The last time I heard from Brandy was after she checked in to this very hotel, when she’d called to say goodnight to her son. That was six days ago.
When she didn’t answer her phone or come home at the end of the weekend, I knew something was wrong. I felt it right in my gut, and I never ignored my instincts. With a sick mom and a little kid, no way would Brandy run off. Someone must have taken her.
Over the next day I made dozens of phone calls, trying to find her, but it was useless. It soon became obvious I’d have to go to Vegas myself and figure out what happened on my own. I begged my part-time helper Maggie to watch the flower shop for a few days, and then I scraped together every penny I had and hit the road in my beat-up car, driving the five hours through the desert until I reached Sin City.
Before I left, Brandy’s mom Donna had taken me aside and begged me to find her daughter, while she’d sobbed into a tissue streaked with blood. Donna had terminal lung cancer and could barely find the energy to make herself a sandwich these days, but she promised she’d manage looking after Brandy’s son Jack while I was gone. Then, on my way out of the house, Jack grabbed me around the waist and asked me to bring his mom home soon. Both times I’d blinked back tears, and swore to them that I would find Brandy.
What else could I have done? Brandy had treated me like family from the moment we’d met in the library where she worked, and she’d given me a place to live when I needed it most. I should have gone with her to Vegas, and guilt was eating me alive for that decision. I’d chosen my responsibilities over my friend, and I wished more than anything that I could go back in time and redo everything. If I could get Maggie to step in and help at the shop now, why couldn’t I have done that before? Brandy would have done it for me in a heartbeat. Why, why, why did I let her go alone?
I had to find her, and it was all on me. Brandy had nobody else in the world to go looking for her, and I couldn’t let her drop off the face of the Earth. Vegas would eat her alive and forget her, allowing her to become another statistic. The police here were proof of that. When I went to report her disappearance they blew me off, especially once they found out Brandy went missing in Lucas’s hotel. They’d closed ranks immediately, speaking in low voices to one another with pointed glances, suddenly all deferential about Mr. Ifer. He probably had each and every one of them on his payroll. They eventually took my report, but I had a bad feeling it was in a pile somewhere never to be seen again.
My only option had been to start doing some detective work myself, but I kept hitting dead ends. First, the staff at The Celestial Resort & Casino couldn’t find any information about a librarian conference. When I looked it up myself online I only found one sparse website for it, and no other mentions anywhere. It was almost like it never existed at all. Or like someone had set up the whole thing just to lure Brandy to Las Vegas. But why? Had she gotten herself involved in something bad? Some sort of business with the mob? I found that hard to believe.
I started poking around the hotel, asking questions and playing detective, but I was no Nancy Drew. I had no idea what I was doing, yet I asked people as many questions as I could think of, and slowly but surely my intuition tugged at me, telling me something wasn’t right. I wore my cheap flip-flops up and down The Strip, visiting all the places Brandy might have visited. No one gave me any information, almost like Brandy hadn't existed at all. I hit brick wall after brick wall. I needed access to video cameras, phone records, and credit cards, but I didn’t have a badge or any connections. And I was running out of time and money.