I lost my second sight completely then, as the witch manning the guest book pointed me out to a second man, clearly security by his serious lack of any emotional expression.

“Oh crap,” I swore, turning my back on the room and picking up my Dead Man’s Float.

“What?” Kisten said irately while he stacked his winnings according to color.

I winced, meeting his eyes over the rim of my glass. “I think I made a boo-boo.”

Thirteen

“What did you do, Rachel?” Kisten said flatly, stiffening as he looked over my shoulder.

“Nothing!” I exclaimed. The dealer gave me a tired look and broke the seal on a fresh deck of cards, and I didn’t turn when I felt a presence loom heavy behind me.

“Is there a problem?” Kisten said. His attention was fixed a good three feet above my head. Slowly I turned, finding a really, really big man in a really, really big tux.

“It’s the lady I need to talk with,” his voice rumbled.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said quickly. “I was just looking over, um, the security.…” I finished weakly. “Just as a professional interest. Here. Here’s one of my cards. I’m in security myself.” I fumbled in my clasp purse for one, handing it to him. “Really, I wasn’t going to tamper with anything. I didn’t tap a line. Honest.”

Honest? How lame was that? My black business card looked small in his thick hands, and he glanced at it once, quickly reading it. He made eye contact with a woman at the foot of the stairs. She shrugged, mouthing, “She didn’t tap a line,” and he turned to me. “Thank you, Ms. Morgan,” the man said, and my shoulders eased. “Please don’t assert your aura over the house spells.” He didn’t smile at all. “Any more interference and we will ask you to leave.”

“Sure, no problem,” I said, starting to breathe again.

He walked away, and play resumed around us. Kisten’s eyes were full of annoyance. “Can’t I take you anywhere?” he said dryly, putting his chips into a little bucket and handing them to me. “Here. I have to use the little boys’ room.”

I stared blankly as he gave me a warning look before he ambled off, leaving me alone in a casino with a bucket of chips and no idea what to do with them. I turned to the blackjack dealer, and he arched his eyebrows. “Guess I’ll play something else,” I said as I slipped from the stool, and he nodded.

Clutch purse tucked under my arm, I glanced over the room with my chips in one hand and my drink in the other. Surfer boy was gone, and I stifled a sigh of disappointment. Head down, I looked at the chips, seeing they were engraved with the same intertwined S’s. Not even knowing the monetary value of what I had, I drifted to the excitement of the craps table.

I smiled at two men who slid apart to make a spot for me, setting my drink and chips on the lower rim of the table while I tried to figure out why some people were happy at the five that was rolled and some were upset. One of the witches who’d made room for me was standing too close, and I wondered when he would inflict his pickup line on me. Sure enough, after the next roll he gave me a sloppy grin and said, “Here I am. What are your last two wishes?”