Page 5 of Heart Over Heels

Now it was on me to get out of this casino without causing more of a stir. Thankfully, the place was crowded enough to offer some cover. I’d stand out, sure. I’d spent too much time crafting a look meant to be noticed, and my face was currently grinning down from at least two Stripside billboards. But I didn’t need full camouflage. Just enough of a blur to slip through.

Ahead, the hallway curved. I rounded it at a rapid clip then nearly collided with a wall of authority.

Three uniformed men stood in a line. Casino security. Broad-shouldered, clean-cut, and trained for intimidation. Their combined gaze snapped to me the second I came into sight.

With the way forward thoroughly blocked, I had no choice but to stop.

The lead guard was tall and square-jawed with a comm unit tucked discreetly behind his ear. He spoke first.

“Ma’am… or uh, sir?” The question hung as he looked me over. At five foot three wearing makeup and women’s clothing, my gender was anyone’s guess. I passed for whatever my client paid me to be.

The guard recovered quickly, deciding my pronouns were less important than my presence in this establishment. “What’s your business at the Basilica?” He beckoned to me.

My jaw clenched.

Graham brought me to the fucking Basilica?

If angelic properties were a beehive, then the Basilica Casino was where they kept their queen. Antonella Rossetti ruled the heavenly half of Vegas with her loyalists and a brood of unruly Nephilim. I’d never had the displeasure of meeting them, and I didn’t intend to start today.

I could have thrown Graham under the bus. The moment he started with the name-calling and grabby hands, he secured himself a spot on my shit list. But these casino commandos wouldn’t blame a human for a demon’s folly. It was up to me to explain myself.

My tail gave a sharp flick, betraying what I didn’t show on my face. “Lovely day for sightseeing,” I replied through a smile. “I’ve been told this place is not to be missed, but now that I’ve seen it, I think I’ll just… miss it.” I nodded in the direction I believed the exit to be and added, “If you don’t mind.”

I advanced half a step toward the narrow gap near the wall, but the trio quickly filled it.

Thwarted, I sighed and settled back as the man in front spoke again.

“You mind telling us who’s out there advising demons to come onto our property?”

“No one in particular.” I shrugged. “People talk.”

One of the flanking guards grunted then spoke up. “The same people who haunt that hell house you dance in?”

I glanced over at the nondescript thirty-something human with buzzcut hair and a bulky build. He and his buddies were stamped from the same mold: military posture, tactical scowls, and more muscle than man. Antonella Rossetti definitely had a type.

“Dollhouse,” I corrected. “And maybe. We cater to people of taste. Since you recognize me, you’re obviously one of them.”

Buzzcut sneered. “I didn’t recognize you, hell spawn. Ismelledyou.”

The leader tipped his head toward a shallow side corridor. “Why don’t we continue this somewhere private?” His tone was calm, but it had thatdon’t make this harderthan it needs to beedge.

I turned to glimpse the area he indicated. No windows. No guests. Just a shadowy alcove with a heavy-looking door.

My smile tightened. “Tempting, but I have a whole list of places on my tour, so I’m afraid I can’t spare another minute here.”

All three men pressed forward, hemming me in.

“Gentlemen,” I began. My tail coiled around my calf. “I think there’s been?—”

A hand seized my arm, and I gritted my teeth.

Same shit. Different century.

CHAPTER

TWO

Mercer