Chill Factor Page 0,54

the expression, the warmth draining out of his stare.

"We'd have to resort to regrettable alternatives," Myron said. His eyes didn't move to indicate Quinn, but I got the point. "I'm sure you're aware that at least one Warden has already met his death here-we did not cause it, but neither did we act to prevent it. Jonathan and Kevin would do a very nice job of eliminating you, if we provided them with reason to do so. But really, my dear, there's no need for any animosity. The Ma'at are dedicated to exactly the same principles that you honor. The Wardens are no longer the saviors of humanity; they're parasites, perpetuating a cycle of violence and destruction, enslaving beings who ought by rights to be free. You can't want to be part of that."

I inched up into Oversight as I paced the room. It glittered in strings and strands of power, a treacherous spiderweb. Just now, they weren't trying to control me, but the minute I started reaching for power, they'd shut me down. Physical attack was out; I was outnumbered and outgunned at every turn.

"Miss Baldwin? I'm afraid that I require an answer."

I was about to give him an unladylike one, but then there was a discreet knock at the door and it swung open. A woman looked in-businesslike, professionally coiffed, beautifully dressed-and gave them some kind of high sign. Shut the door gently as she left.

"Ah," Myron said. He sounded ever-so-slightly disgruntled. "It appears we'll have to delay this, Miss Baldwin. Our four-o'clock is here. Mr. Quinn? Please show our guest to her room."

Quinn pushed away from the wall, walked to me, and took my arm. It looked gentlemanly, and it felt authoritarian. He steered me across the soft carpet to the door, opened it, and squired me out without another word.

I glanced back.

They were opening another deck of cards. I wasn't even a topic of conversation.

Quinn took me out past the guards. If the old men of Ma'at had a four-o'clock, he or she wasn't cooling their heels outside; all I could see was the normal business of the casino. I considered screaming rape or fire or cardsharp, but considering that the security all seemed to know Quinn-he exchanged friendly nods with each uniform we passed-I decided to wait for a better opportunity. Maybe Kevin would come to my rescue. That would be ironic.

The Luxor was full of things I wanted to see- beautifully reproduced Egyptian statues, the faux treasures of Tut, souvenir shops that held the glitter of gold and silver and gems-but Quinn didn't even slow down.

"Hey," I said as he hustled me past a storefront full of reproduction Egyptian furniture, "you know what all villains have in common? They don't shop. They're too busy being evil to shop. You guys need to learn the fine art of browsing."

Quinn laughed softly and put his arm around my shoulders. No sexual intent-it only meant he could steer me more effectively. He smelled woodsy, a mixture of some sharp green aftershave and a dark hint of male sweat. Maybe some gun oil, too. No tobacco. He wasn't a smoker.

"Sweetheart," he said, "you are one lovely piece of work. I gotta tell you, I've seen rich men with power over major corporations break down and cry over less than you just survived. You gave as good as you got."

"Chill Factor"

"If I gave as good as I got, did good old Chuck get electrocuted? I was too busy convulsing to see."

He patted my shoulder. From some men, all of this physical contact would have been prurient, but Quinn seemed to not have any ulterior motives, not even the obvious. He was just friendly.

We arrived at a huge bank of closed steel doors. One opened, and Quinn steered me in.

Oh. Glass. I blinked and looked out at the bright glare of a Las Vegas afternoon, which was nowhere near as gaudy as a Las Vegas evening. There was something vaguely weird about this elevator, which became clear when Quinn pushed buttons and it began to rise.

It didn't go up. Well, not directly. It went at an angle.

"It's an inclinator, not an elevator," Quinn said. "Like the view?"

I had to admit, it was pretty. Our elevator- inclinator-crawled up the slope of the huge glass pyramid, each floor announcing itself with a muted whispered ding, and the world fell away. I amused myself by identifying hotels along the strip. Paris. New York, New York, with its roller coaster and the half-scale Statue