tensed, especially when the wave of dark magic came at me, then I relaxed. A tall man in sweats lowered the bottle of blood he was drinking and gave me a relieved look.
“Janet. I’m happy to see you well.”
“I’m happy to be well,” I said. “And starving.” I plucked a tortilla from a shelf, lunch meat from another, wrapped them around each other and shoved them into my mouth.
Ansel watched me a moment, then self-consciously pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed excess blood from his mouth.
Ansel had been turned Nightwalker when he’d been a young soldier from London in World War II. He’d been captured by Nazis and put through bizarre experiments to create Nightwalker soldiers to help their side. Plans backfired when Ansel and the other Nightwalkers turned on their makers, killing them before vanishing. Ansel and some of the others had hidden nearby, sabotaging and destroying what they could of the enemy camps—their contribution to the war effort.
Ansel was soft-spoken, polite, and spent his time collecting stamps and antiques. He now had a girlfriend, an antique collector from Santa Fe. She was human, but she and Ansel spoke a language all their own.
Hard to believe that this affable man, happy I was better, could become an insane, monstrous killer who’d more than once nearly destroyed me, my friends, my hotel … He’d been very apologetic about it later. Of course, almost everyone I’d ever known had at one time tried to kill me, so I couldn’t single out Ansel for my anger.
“Anything happen while I was out of it?” I asked him. “Any crises?”
“None that I heard of,” he answered. “Everything shipshape and Bristol fashion.”
He liked to sound like an old-fashioned Brit to tease me. He was an old-fashioned Brit in truth, a lady-killer from 1941.
“Are you serious?” I asked. “Nothing went wrong while I was … asleep?”
Ansel considered. “I sat up every night with Mick, keeping watch. All was quiet.”
Strange in a hotel that drew the supernatural and the crazy from every corner of the country.
I chewed through the rest of my makeshift burrito. My stomach was still growling, but this would have to placate it for now.
“Thanks for helping out, Ansel,” I said, swallowing. “I appreciate it.”
“This is my home too, Janet. You and Mick protect me. It’s the least I can do.”
Such a gentleman. Ansel hadn’t taken any more swallows from the bottle of cow’s blood Elena kept stocked for him while I’d stood there eating. I knew he must be hungry, just rising from his day sleep, but he was being polite and keeping his blood-lusting vampire self hidden from me.
“Still, thanks,” I said. I patted his slim arm, then left the refrigerator and closed the door behind me so he could get on with his feeding frenzy.
Elena had all the meals finished by the time I emerged. Cassandra, as elegant as ever in her gray silk suit and high-heeled black pumps, carried the silver-dome covered plates to the guests in the saloon. There she would quietly set them in front of guests and reveal the feast within to their exclamations of delight.
Don, Elena’s assistant, gave me a quiet smile and blocked Elena’s view while I snitched a fingerful of braised meat from the pan he was carrying to the sink. Damn, it was good.
I had my finger in my mouth when I walked out of the kitchen to the lobby and ran smack into Colby.
“Janet!” He lifted me in his big arms, crushing me hard and spinning around. “So glad to see you finally standing. Micky was scared shitless you’d never wake up.”
Colby swung me around a few more times then thumped me back to the ground. He kept his big hands on my shoulders, his light blue eyes sparkling.
“What did you mean when you said Mick called you for help?” I asked him. “What could you do that he and Cassandra couldn’t? No offense.” Dragons were proud, and touchy.
Colby’s grin spread wide. “None taken. Micky asked me to find Coyote. Figured he needed a god for this one. I was recruited so no one else had to leave your side. Besides, dragons can be persuasive, even to gods.” He released me and cracked his knuckles, contriving to look modest.
My good mood faded. “So it was a spell? Not just me getting whacked on the head?”
My head felt fine, as did the rest of my body. No pain, no headache—in fact, I felt better than I had in a long time.
“You did get