fingers. There were a pair of men in the background, trying to blend in with the crowd.
"Ghosts," Fran said. "The one with the square jaw is Jet. He usually runs offensive, so we were surprised to find him tailing Ms. Red. Rumor has it that he's one of Black's." She trailed off, and then pointed to the other one. "Moose. He's pure defense."
That much was obvious. He was almost as big as an orc and twice as ugly. Thick black hair, a unibrow, and heavy bones. He looked stupid in a suit.
"Users?"
"Moose, no. Jet, yes. Telekinetic."
"No shit?" TKs were rare. Not rare like necros, but they were limited enough to be very valuable. It was no surprise Black had one in his stable. It was surprising he had assigned him to watching over Jin.
She glanced up at me as if she were offended with my use of a four letter word. "Those are the two we've spotted close to her. There are probably others keeping an eye out from more of a distance. House Red is one of the weaker houses, but they still have their own cabal of users and their own roster of ghosts they can draw on."
"I don't see the Hua."
"Astute observation. She isn't carrying it with her full-time."
"Is she keeping it close?"
"She must be."
"What if she isn't?"
"Mr. Tarakona hired you for this job. I have my own responsibilities."
Ouch. "Fine, I'll work it out. What's the lead?"
The image changed. The shot was from the outside of a hotel. Jin was moving inside. I scanned the background until I found the two ghosts tailing her. "That isn't Japan."
"Another astute observation. The timing is important here, necromancer. More important than you realize. We didn't just pick you up today through some random decision. Ms. Red is in the States. Las Vegas, to be precise. She has a reason to be there."
"One that's directly connected to the Hua?"
"Yes. The nearby climate is highly appropriate to fostering the power of the Hua, and Vegas itself is a challenging place to track anybody."
Vegas had always been a city of bright lights and big risks. The shift had upped the ante, infusing the nearby land with an overabundance of magical energy. Unlike the Playground, the fields were ordered and consistent, a perfect place for users from every House to congregate. It was also a secret war zone, the most dense tract of ghost inhabited land in the U.S. The sheer volume of noise made it tough to operate without stepping on anyone else's toes.
"I can get the value of getting lost in Vegas, and the benefit of the field stability there. I don't get what climate has to do with it?"
"That isn't your concern. The Hotel is-"
"The Bellagio," I said for her. I recognized the entrance. I had been to Vegas with Karen before we had Molly. It was funny to think about it now, how amazed I had been by the stage users there, the ones the Houses propped up to try to make their power seem less threatening. The light shows, the stunts with fire and water and illusion. People loved it, though its success at calming anti-magic sentiment was limited. The User Registration Act was gaining momentum in the Senate. I was pretty sure the House-placed President would veto any bill like it that made it to his desk. People deserved their privacy, after all.
We hadn't stayed at the Bellagio. I was still finishing my residency then, and the rates were out of my league. We'd done a drive-by to check out all of the fancier hotels on the strip, living vicariously through the windshield. It was a simple memory that had always stuck with me. My life before cancer. My life when it was normal and ignorant and I wasn't dying.
Now I was a pawn in the game of Houses.
What the hell had I done to deserve this?
"We've got eyes on the ground there," Fran said. "She has a room at the hotel. According to Mr. Tarakona, she'll need to be in town for at least another week."
"Can we get blueprints and schematics of the hotel? Wiring diagrams, security system intel, that sort of thing?"
"We can."
"How about her room number?"
"We have that already."
"You're sure it's good information?"
"As sure as we can be. You know as well as I do there are a hundred ways to misdirect a tail."
"More like a thousand. What's your confidence level?"
"Thirty-four percent."
"That's precise. And low."
"It is what it is. You'll have to figure out if