Staring out over the tranquility of Mystic Valley, Lor dar Joon drew his anxious energy deeper into his being and surrounded it with calm. The Conservatory was visible in the distance, a graceful haven against the purple-tinted sky. With massive columns and wraparound galleries, the Conservatory was the primary training facility and planetary headquarters of the Ontarian Mystics. Each Mystic spent at least twenty-five solar cycles here, perfecting their skills before venturing out into the world. Lor had completed his training, under the watchful eye of Head Master Tal, and now Lor called the Conservatory home.
He turned from the window with a sigh and meandered across the sunny vestibule. He’d only been waiting a few minutes. Why was he so restless? Being summoned was nothing unusual. Being summoned to the visitor center, however, only happened when the person requiring his presence was not a Mystic. His visitor was likely his father or another annoying relative. That must be why he was so agitated. The House of Joon was filled with charlatans and unscrupulous autocrats. He had no desire to see any of them.
“They’re ready for you now, Master Joon.”
Lor turned his head and smiled at the young man. He was dressed in the dark blue robes of an apprentice. He looked vaguely familiar, yet Lor couldn’t recall his name. “Thank you.” The trainee led him to one of the meeting rooms lining the large reception area. The visitor center was styled with the same ageless grace as the Conservatory, all airy space and natural light. After knocking on the privacy panel, the trainee slid the barrier aside and motioned Lor into the room.
Head Master Tal sat at a round table with two men dressed in military black. Lor acknowledged each with a nod, but he only recognized one. Varrik, the former Shadow Assassin who had won the heart of Echo dar Aune, one of Tal’s twin daughters.
“Be seated, Lor. And relax. They’re not here to arrest you.” Tal smiled at him, an expression few were privileged to see. With every Mystic on Ontariese looking to Tal for guidance, he tended to be somber and serious. But Tal was more than Head Master to Lor. He was mentor, confidante and father figure. Tal had taken a terrified child, tormented by nightmares and insecurities and shaped him with patience and skill. Were it not for Tal’s unflinching confidence in Lor, he knew he’d be leading a far different life today.
Lor sat and folded his hands on the tabletop, loosely intertwining his fingers. “Why are they here?”
“We need your help.” Varrik sounded grave and looked as unrelenting as Lor remembered. They’d met six lunar cycles before when they’d both been captured by Rodytes. They’d worked together toward a common goal, but Lor didn’t trust him, didn’t trust any of the Shadow Assassins.
Apparently sensing the tension, Tal drew Lor’s attention with a telepathic nudge. “Varrik has been exonerated of all charges and he is now a valuable member of the Ontarian military.”
“As you say, sir.” Rather than trying to anticipate the nature of Varrik’s need, Lor looked at his mentor and waited for an explanation.
“As you know, the Shadow Assassins were taken to the City of Tears,” Tal began. “In exchange for their pardon, each soldier agreed to complete a five-cycle tour of duty. The majority of the soldiers have adapted well to this new setting, but the hunters and sweepers have been less successful.”
“I know the sweepers were brought here for retraining.” Lor didn’t want to be rude, but Tal had a tendency to ramble. “What became of the hunters?”
“Fifteen of the most powerful have disappeared,” Varrik told him. “They’re all descended from East, West or South.”
“I don’t understand the significance of that.”
The stranger straightened in his chair and placed his fist over his heart. “I am Allenton, descended from the North. Varrik is telling you that all of my men remained loyal.” With blue highlights in his short black hair, a gold tint to his skin, and angular features, his Rodyte heritage would have been apparent even without the faint blue rings in his eyes.
“I didn’t realize there were separations within the Shadow Maze,” he reluctantly admitted. He knew shockingly little about the Shadow Assassins, considering their massive lair had been constructed beneath Fortress Joon. A fact that humiliated Lor every time he thought about it.
“Think of them as a squadron,” Allenton suggested. “They live together, eat together and fight together. And they are extremely loyal to their squad leader.”
“You said these are hunters.” Lor wasn’t usually disrespectful, but he couldn’t suppress his resentment. Echo had been in his arms when Varrik and his “squad” attacked. She’d been taken to their Shadow Maze and subjected to a seduction so powerful she remained under Varrik’s spell to this day. These men were predators, ruthless bullies who preyed on helpless women. “Why should I care if they’ve disappeared?”
“We believe they’ve escaped to Earth and intend to reestablish the sort of life they lived before.” Tal’s tone revealed his annoyance even though his features remained serene. “Your disapproval is obvious. Are you disciplined enough to use that disapproval in a constructive manner or should I send for someone else?”
Lor fought back a smile. Tal always knew how to motivate him. Challenges worked better than lectures. Lor prided himself on his control. “What would you like me to do?”
“Allenton is leader of a newly formed team called the Mystic Militia. Their first official mission will be to apprehend their escaped comrades before anyone on Earth is harmed.”
Resentment surged through Lor. The Shadow Assassins were not Mystics. It took twenty solar cycles of intensive training to qualify as a Mystic. How dare they… He pinched off his mental tirade. This was not about him or them. It was about the human females the Shadow Assassins intended to hunt.
“What is my role in this Mystic Militia?” He tried not to sound sarcastic and failed. The Overlord could give them a fancy new name, but they were still, and would always be, Shadow Assassins.
“You’re one of the few Mystics who has been to Earth,” Allenton replied, even though Lor had been looking at Tal. “We need your expertise on their customs and the idiosyncrasies in their language. Their vernacular is quite confusing. It’s also my understanding that you can alter your appearance at will. This will make passing as human less challenging.” When Lor remained reticent, he added, “I’m also aware of your unconventional training,”
Tal had used a variety of martial arts training to give Lor an outlet for his emotions. He’d excelled at each discipline, so Tal had broadened the curriculum, including weapons and strategy. Once Trey, Tal’s brother and Director of Covert Operations, found out about Lor’s training, the outcome was inevitable. Lor became a highly specialized agent, on call with the City of Tears.
Silence lengthened and tension wrapped itself around the room.
Not easily deterred, Allenton tried again. “I understand that you want nothing to do with Shadow Assassins, but think of their potential victims.”
No one on Earth was equipped to handle the sort of trouble Shadow Assassins could cause. And these weren’t just Shadow Assassins; they were the best of the best. Lor sighed. “What exactly are we up against and what’s your plan?”
“Nazerel of South is our primary target. We have no doubt he’s the ring leader. Once we apprehend him, the others will be more cooperative. Next are Darrian of East and Zacharous of West. They are alpha hunters as well, but they will follow Nazerel’s lead.”
“How did they make it to Earth? I wasn’t aware that Shadow Assassins can Summon the Storm.”
“To our knowledge, they can’t,” Tal said. “Which is why we’re convinced they had help.”
Trepidation gripped his stomach and made his chest feel heavy. It wasn’t hard to guess where this road led. “What sort of help? They couldn’t have bribed someone to open a portal. They have no valuables. So who stands to gain by escorting a group of mercenaries to another planet?”
“There are two obvious possibilities.” Tal’s tone changed, becoming more cautious as he went on, “Your father and the Rodytes.”
“My father can’t Summon the Storm. In fact, you killed the only Joon who could.” Technically that was no longer true. “Other than me, of course.”
Tal glanced away, but not before Lor saw the flicker of regret in his gaze. Many cycles had passed since Tal’s conflict with Lor’s uncle, Dez dar Joon. Obviously the outcome still bothered him. Lor shouldn’t have brought it up.
“No one is accusing you. Your actions and integrity are beyond reproach.” Rather than rehash the past, Tal said, “The House of Joon possess the wealth needed to procure someone who can Summon the Storm.”
Lor nodded. He’d stopped defending his father cycles ago. Lilt dar Joon was an amoral tyrant and nothing Lor could do or say would change the fact. “Is this another reason you want me for this mission?”
“Yes.” Allenton didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. “For the hunters to set up shop on Earth they need housing, supplies and documentation.”
“Unless they intend to operate entirely off the grid.” Lor knew it was unlikely, but arguments sprang into his mind, deflecting him from the probable truth of his father’s guilt.
“That’s impractical. Compiling the necessary supplies to go ‘off the grid’ in itself would draw too much attention.” Allenton waved away the option and returned to the original theories. “If your father was the one to make these arrangements, we’re hoping you can uncover his contacts.”
“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. My father and I are barely on speaking terms. He certainly doesn’t trust me with his secrets.”
“I understand that,” Allenton persisted. “Even if your father has no involvement in any of this, I believe your skillset will be an asset to my team.”
Lor nodded as his conscience began to whisper. Joons empowered the Shadow Assassins. If it weren’t for your father, they might have disbanded after the Great Conflict. He helped keep them going, brokered deals and smuggled them supplies. It’s your responsibility as the only honorable Joon to clean up your father’s mess.
He sighed again and looked at Allenton. “How long have they been gone?”
“The three alpha hunters’ signals blinked out for a few hours three weeks ago. They claimed something had interfered with their tracker chips, but we couldn’t recreate the failure. Then four days ago all fifteen just disappeared.”
“People witnessed this disappearance?”
“No. It happened in the middle of the night. Something jammed the surveillance feed for twenty-three minutes then it just came back online. Everything seemed fine except for the fifteen missing hunters.”
“Why didn’t an alarm sound as soon as the hunters left their beds?”
“The City of Tears isn’t a prison,” Tal reminded. “Their security system is designed for protection not incarceration.”
“Is there any chance they’re still on Ontariese? That actually makes a lot more sense than them heading to an alien planet.”
Tal shook his head. “I convened a Seeker Circle and the outcome was incontrovertible. The portal took them to a poorly maintained building on the outskirts of Las Vegas.”
Lor laughed. He knew the reaction was inappropriate, but he couldn’t help himself. “What is it about Las Vegas? Isn’t that where Evan took Vee’s journal?”
Varrik and Allenton shared a confused glance, but Tal smiled. “It’s easy to blend with the population of Las Vegas even if you have come from another planet.”
“Evan’s story had a happy ending.” Lor took a deep breath and accepted the inevitable. “Let’s hope this mission is as successful as his.”
“Why are we doing this again?” Jillian hurried along at Tori’s side, remarkably agile in her sky-high heels.
Tori glanced at her friend and shrugged. With a low-cut sweater and even lower-slung jeans, proudly displaying her sculpted body, Jillian turned heads wherever they went. Tori didn’t mind being overshadowed. She’d never longed for the spotlight like so many in Las Vegas did. She’d much rather stand in the wings and watch the performance, analyzing the reaction of the audience. And her personal life was no different. She preferred intimate dinners to lavish parties, and she’d rather have one true friend than a gaggle of admirers.
“I’m obviously a glutton for punishment.”
Jillian laughed. “There are several members of my cast who would love to take advantage of that.” Jillian was a showgirl and proud of it. Her blonde beauty and mile-long legs had opened doors up and down the Strip. And after years of fan-kicks and shimmies, she’d finally landed a leading role.
“Unfortunately for them, my taste runs toward beefy men with lazar eyes and strong hands, not leather-clad women wielding whips.” Tori tried to let Jillian’s buoyant mood keep her thoughts from spiraling into frustrated worry. The pressures of her life had much louder voices.
“Do you think he’ll have the money this time?” A bit of Jillian’s playfulness faded and compassion warmed her baby-blue eyes. “Did the deadbeat instigate this meeting or did you?”
“He did, which gives me a tiny flicker of hope. Why bother setting up a meeting if he doesn’t have the money?”
“Because he wants more.”
Tori sighed as she reached for the massive handle on the gilt-and-glass door. She’d only agreed to indulge Ryan after he agreed to meet her in a casino lounge. Then she’d asked Jillian along for moral support. She wasn’t afraid of Ryan, but she knew him well enough to avoid his theatrics. That was the problem with performers. Their entire life was an act. Musicians, actors, dancers, illusionists, she’d had it with all of them. Jillian was the only exception to the rule.
“If he even hints that he wants more money, we get up and walk out.” She used her indignation to heave open the heavy door. Cold air gushed out into the humid evening, making Tori shiver and then sigh.
“Fine by me.” Jillian slipped in behind her before the door swung shut. “I never understood what you saw in him in the first place. You can do much better.”
“He made me laugh. After three years with TJ, I was ready for a little laughter.” She’d honestly thought TJ was “the one”. He was a brilliant musician with the dark, brooding good looks that attracted females like kids to an ice-cream truck. Tori had fallen fast and hard, indulging all her bad-boy fantasies for one incendiary summer. But the ego that made TJ so mesmerizing onstage created conflicts and challenges in their relationship. His first love was, and would always be, his music and Tori wasn’t willing to come in second place.
The bustling lobby branched off beyond the registration desk. On the right were posh boutiques and specialty shops; on the left was the main casino floor. Jillian took the lead as they ventured farther into her domain, bright colors and the slightly dissonant drone of slot machines and excited gamblers. The lounge was nestled against the back wall of the casino. The floor plan was designed to keep visitors weaving their way through the attractions like mice in a maze.
Tori stayed away from the Strip whenever she could, but her work as a set designer made complete avoidance impossible. She was one of the army of peripheral players, the backstage specialists that the public never saw and seldom thought about.
Heat caressed the right side of her body. Her skin tingled and the fine hairs on her arms rose as if charged by static electricity. She slowed and looked around, trying to figure out what had caused the odd sensation. She was surrounded by slot machines and impatient pedestrians, nothing that accounted for the sudden rise in temperature or the tingling.
An angry voice drew her attention to the men facing off in the adjacent aisle. One was dark-haired the other blond, both tall and muscular. And each was extremely attractive. Were they body builders or fitness models? They were dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts, but something about them seemed…foreign.
“Niiice,” Jill whispered, giving Tori a playful nudge. “You take one and I’ll take the other. I’ll even let you choose.”
Before she could reply, the blond turned his head and looked right at Tori. Bright turquoise and framed by thick dark lashes, his gaze seemed to surround her and draw her in. The tingling heat she’d felt before washed over her entire body. It was him. This man was the source of the heat.
He took a step toward her and Tori panicked. She pushed past Jillian and hurried along the walkway, hoping to blend in with the crowd.
“What’s the matter with you?” Jillian rushed up beside her and grabbed her upper arm. “He was coming over to talk with you.”
“Exactly.” Tori twisted her arm out of Jillian’s grasp. “I don’t do casual sex and the last thing I need right now is an emotional entanglement.”
“But he was gorgeous. They both were. Not just nice looking. They were hotter-than-hell, melt-your-panties-off gorgeous.”
“My panties need to stay right where they are, so retreat was the only option.”
“Fine.” Jillian harrumphed and hooked elbows with Tori. “You’re my best friend, so I’ll support your decisions—even when I adamantly disagree with them.”
Tori squeezed Jillian’s forearm. “I can always count on you.”
It was early evening, so the lounge wasn’t crowded. After determining that Ryan had yet to arrive, they chose a table easily visible from the main entrance. A doorway on the other side of the room allowed customers to enter from a different section of the casino, but anyone arriving from outside would enter through the main door.
“Hey, Tori. Jillian.” Jeff came out from behind the bar and approached their table. “It’s always nice to see two lovely ladies.” With the obligatory greetings out of the way, annoyance made his dark eyes flash. “Any clue where your sister is? She’s been MIA for the past three days.”
“Really?” Tori tried not to let her frustration show. This was the fourth job she’d gotten for Angie in the past three years. If Ang screwed this up too, she’d… She’d probably find her another job. Angie was her baby sister. She couldn’t help being protective of the little scamp. “I’ll text her and see if I can find out what’s going on. I didn’t realize there was a problem.”
“Summer’s ending. Everyone’s getting restless. She’s probably just blowing off steam. I don’t want to replace her if something legitimate has gone wrong, but she’s leaving me no other choice.”
“I appreciate that. Let me see what I can find out.”
“Thanks.” He shifted into server mode again and smiled. “What can I get you?” They both ordered diet cola and he laughed. “If you’re not in this for the booze, why come to a bar?”
“We’re meeting her useless ex,” Jillian volunteered. “We wanted home-field advantage.”
Jeff winked at Tori “I’ll watch for flying glasses.”
It wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Ryan had eroded her calm to the brink of violence before she’d finally kicked him out and she hated being that out of control.
Using another irritant to distract her for a moment, she dug her phone out of her purse and sent a quick text to her sister. For some reason Angie would often answer a text when she’d ignore a call. A few minutes passed and she didn’t respond to the text, so Tori activated the call. It went directly to voice mail. “Ang, it’s Tori. Call me or text. I know you haven’t been to work for three days. You’re freaking everyone out. I’m not pissed. I’m worried. Call me.”
“Do you think something’s wrong or is she just being Angie?”
Tori had been friends with Jillian ever since the sisters came to Las Vegas nine years ago. Jillian had watched Angie’s cycle repeat more than once, so she understood Tori’s frustration. “I don’t know. The first time this happened, I called hospitals and police dispatchers. Made a complete fool of myself. Now I’m afraid I’ll shrug it off and she’d be in real trouble.”
Jillian reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“I’m not sure there’s anything I can do. Angie’s not a child anymore. She needs to feel the consequences of her decisions or she’ll never learn from her mistakes.” It was a concept Tori compromised each time she rushed in for the rescue. She knew that and yet she couldn’t stand by and watch her baby sister suffer.
Angie had been fifteen when their mother died, leaving Tori to finish raising a rebellious teenager. Everywhere they went in San Diego reminded them of their mother. And Angie had developed a circle of friends as rebellious as she was, so Tori convinced her that they both needed a fresh start. New York was too damn cold, so they agreed on Las Vegas.
“What if Ryan blows you off?” Jillian fiddled with the cardboard coasters as they waited for Jeff to bring their drinks.
Tori shook off the past with a sigh, focusing instead on the present. “He called me. Why would he blow me off now?”
As if to prove her point, Ryan came ambling into the lounge. His wavy blond hair was longer than the last time she’d seen him, but the shaggy style only added to his surfer-boy charm. Faded jeans hugged his lean hips and a brown bomber jacket hung from his shoulders, making him appear almost skinny. A secret smile bowed her lips. Ryan hadn’t seemed skinny until she compared him with the buff stranger in the casino. Now that was a man.
Ryan looked at her as he crossed the room, obviously gauging her level of hostility. Apparently deciding he needed to ease into the situation, he approached Jillian first. He flashed a blinding smile and bent down to give her his best Hollywood kiss on each cheek.
“Damn, girl, you get better looking every time I see you.” He laughed as he pulled out a chair and sat across the table from them. “You should make a point to see me more.”
Tori rolled her eyes at the tired line. She’d heard him recite it countless times before. “Do you have my money or not? I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit.”
His devil-may-care façade dissolved as he looked at her. “Nice to see you, Tori. It’s been too long.”
She decided not to be a bitch and ask him about the money again. She’d already made it clear that the money was her only reason for being here.
The side door to the lounge swung open and she automatically turned her head. She didn’t care who was entering the lounge. She was just tired of looking at Ryan’s insincere face. The dark-haired Adonis from the casino crossed the threshold, followed immediately by his blond friend. Her heart fluttered and her stomach did a little flip. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d never gone all weak and tingly over a man before.
“I think he followed you,” Jillian leaned in and whispered, but her giddy expression was enough to make Ryan turn his head to see who had caused the fuss.
“Who is that?” He growled the question as if he had the right to be pissed off by her reaction.
“No one,” Tori stressed.
The strangers walked over to the bar and the dark-haired one unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to Jeff. Jeff looked at the paper then shook his head and handed it back to the hunky stranger. Were they cops? More like private investigators. Neither one of them had flashed a badge.
“They haven’t officially met, but they had ‘a moment’ in the casino.” Jillian lightly elbowed Tori in the side. “Want me to ask them to join us?”
“No.” Ryan scooted closer to the table. “I have the money.” He pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket of his jacket and tossed it onto the table. The flap opened enough for Tori to see the stack of bills inside and the strangers were forgotten. “I’m a man of my word. Sometimes it just takes longer than I’d planned to keep my promises.”
She reached for the envelope, thrilled to have the confrontation finished, but he covered it with his hand and formed his famous half-smile. She’d fallen for that practiced expression once too often not to see through its appeal. Ryan was a self-absorbed, irresponsible jerk and no amount of superficial charm would make her trust him again.
She firmly grasped the envelope and tugged. “Let go. This is what I came for. The conversation is over.”
“I understand your frustration and I won’t stop you from leaving once you’ve heard me out.”
“I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”
“You’re a shrewd business woman.” Ryan paused for another smile. Didn’t he realize that she ground her teeth every time his lips parted? “I know you’re in-between projects and I have an idea that is sure to be a hit.”
None of his other ideas had been hits, so she couldn’t imagine why he persisted. “Not. Interested.” She pulled on the envelope, but his fingers were stronger.
“Five minutes. Give me five minutes to explain.”
“Let go of the envelope and I’ll sit here for exactly five minutes.” She could endure anything for five minutes if it meant Ryan would be out of her life permanently.
He sighed clearly frustrated by her persistence. “Elements of Illusion.” He quickly began his explanation, though his hand still rested on the envelope. “Water is the new rage up and down the Strip. All of the shows are incorporating some sort of aquatics into their acts. I want to take the concept a step further.”
“Let him talk,” Jillian said. “I’m intrigued.”
She shot her friend an annoyed look, but didn’t interrupt Ryan.
“I want to feature all four elements, water, fire, earth and air. And I want to weave it all around some sort of story.” He moved his hand and she slid the envelope to her side of the table. When she didn’t immediately push back her chair and leave, he went on. “I’ve already started working on the illusions.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out three stubby candles.
“Seriously?” She picked up the envelope and moved it to her lap. “Any street corner hack can light a candle.”
“Can they do this?” He made a dramatic gesture toward the first candle. It sputtered to life with a suspicious sizzle, but he didn’t stop there. He moved his hand closer and snapped his fingers then pointed toward the second candle. The flame jumped to the second candle and the first blinked out.
“Okay, that was sort of cool,” Tori admitted begrudgingly.
“Obviously the candles would be huge, the flames massive.” Ryan became more animated as he gained momentum.
“Make it jump again,” Jillian encouraged, obviously captivated by the illusion.
Ryan snapped near the second candle and pointed to the third. The flame flickered then extinguished. “Damn it.”
Tori felt too sorry for him to laugh, but she’d seen enough. “Come on, Jill. We both have better things to do.”
“Wait,” Ryan cried. “It worked perfectly at home. Just let me set it up again and…”
The casino hunks chose that moment to walk past their table. Jillian and Tori both turned their heads, following the progress of the men. The blond paused beside them and smiled at Tori. He made a sweeping motion toward the candles and all three flared to life. The candles blinked out just as fast as they’d erupted. Then a single flame jumped from wick to wick, illuminating all three candles in turn before leaping into the air and disappearing in a burst of sizzling sparks.
“Amateurs.” He looked pointedly at Ryan, chuckled, then followed his dark-haired friend from the lounge.
“Oh my God. Did you see that?” Jillian cried as applause erupted all over the lounge. Apparently everyone present had seen the impromptu performance.
The stranger didn’t look back and Tori’s heart sank. Why couldn’t he have been a construction worker or an accountant? There was no way in hell she would open her heart to another magician!