There were boxes of engraved silver pens—probably corporate gifts—right beside it, but his gaze passed them by, knowing if he gave me something of value, I’d feel guilty. A stick pen I could live with, and enjoy a residual chaos surge every time I used it.

“Guess I owe you twenty bucks,” I said as we walked from the room.

“I was being a gentleman, and refraining from the ‘I told you so’s.’”

“There’s nothing of value on this floor, is there?”

“All the critical files, rare spellbooks and bearer bonds are likely in a vault somewhere. But there is something of moderate value in there.”

He gestured at a door we’d passed, as plain as the others, the smooth handle suggesting it didn’t even have a key lock.

“Ha-ha,” I said.

His brows arched. “You doubt me?”

“God forbid.”

He took hold of my shoulders and propelled me toward the door. When we were about two feet away, I caught a telltale flash.

“Security spell.” I glanced back at him. “How’d you know?”

“About the spell? Just a hunch. What caught my attention was a less mysterious security measure. Do you see the metal plate running along the door frame? There’s an electronic lock of some sort, probably attached to that.” He pointed to a wafer-thin slot beside the door, then said. “We should get back.”

WE’D JUST TURNED the final corner back to the waiting room when two men approached from the opposite side, one strolling a few paces behind, making no effort to match the other’s brisk stride.

For a moment, I thought the leader was Benicio. He had the same stocky build, dark hair and rounded face, but when we drew closer I saw his dark hair was less gray-streaked and his face was less lined.

The man lagging behind was about a decade younger, also Latino, but taller and well built. I could see similarities in the features, but where the older man was average looking, bland even, the younger was worth a double-take…though I tried not to make mine too obvious.

“Looking for us?” Karl said as we neared them. “My apologies. You keep the restrooms well hidden, it seems.”

The lie came blithely, accompanied by an air that said he really didn’t give a damn whether they believed him or not.

Karl extended a hand to the older man. “Karl Marsten.”

“Hector Cortez. This is my brother, Carlos.”

Carlos ignored Karl and took my hand. “I’d guess this lovely young lady is Hope Adams, but I don’t think I could be so lucky.”

He flashed a smile meant to be as charming as his words, but both carried a smarmy note that set my teeth on edge.