Page 63 of Fire Dancer
The gates creaked ominously open, and I eased my car forward with an enthusiastic wave. “Thank you!”
From a distance, La Puebla was little more than a sand-colored lump in the landscape. Now, I found myself surrounded by a weird blend of squat “earthship” architecture and buildings inspired by Native American cliff dwellings. A row of garages was built into the hill on my right, but none of them lined up with each other or the utility buildings around them. Then came a series of boxy, interconnected buildings that looked a hell of a lot like guest rooms or even dorms.
I turned left, checking the view.Best view of Chimney Rock in Sedonawas right.
My heart thumped.
Finally, I came to the main house, which was another Jenga puzzle with parts heaped up and sticking out from one another. Was it three stories tall? Four? Five? Every time I started counting, I lost track. A circular driveway with a single, gnarled juniper in the center looped in front of it, and I nearly did a second lap while taking it all in. Then I stopped under an arched breezeway by a huge glass entryway crowded with desert flora. The VIP entrance, no doubt.
I looked around nervously. Catering entrances were more my milieu. What the hell was I doing here?
Still, I’d made it this far, right?
I stepped out of my car, clutching the contest flyer and my box.
A woman appeared at the entrance, and for one terrifying moment, I thought it might be Deirdre, though I was confident in my cover story. But it wasn’t, and she stepped aside when a man appeared behind her.
“Not to worry,” he assured her. “I’ll get this one.”
Quiet as a mouse, she scurried away and disappeared back into the woodwork.
I pasted on a smile, though my heart pounded. Then I relaxed a little, because the man was the polar opposite of what I’d been expecting. No dark hair, no fangs, no widow’s peak. On the contrary, I was greeted by a slight, amiable man with ginger hair, a matching ginger beard, and green eyes that danced upon seeing me.
MoreSean O’GradythanVictor Jananovich, if you asked me.
I inhaled deeply. I might not have inherited much of my parents’ supernatural powers, but I did have a knack for identifying shifters and vampires. The latter’s faint ammonia smell was usually a dead giveaway.
I hid an inner chuckle at my own joke.Deadgiveaway.
Then I thought of Stacy and got real serious, real fast.
But, whew. All I got from this man was a pleasing whiff of cologne. Yves Saint Laurent, I’d bet — the pricey kind.
He approached with a disarming smile. Literally. If I’d been toting a gun — or a wooden stake — I would have stashed it away in embarrassment.
There was no way this was a criminal mastermind. On the contrary, his casual khakis and muted yellow polo suggested tech start-up billionaire. The guy was barely into his forties, and he was way too chipper to be a vampire. He didn’t offer his hand, but lots of people didn’t these days.
“Hello. I’m Victor. Welcome to La Puebla.”
His teeth were white and straight, nary a fang among them.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, more truthfully than I’d expected to. “I’m Pippa, from Sedona Glass, here to deliver your design.” I held up the contest flyer.
First, his expression was blank. Then recognition flickered in his eyes.
“Yes, of course. The contest.”
I bobbed my head like one of those toys people kept in the back of their cars. “Sorry to bother you, but Stacy encouraged me to show you my design.”
“Ah, yes. Stacy.” A robot couldn’t have hit a more neutral tone.
I nodded, keeping up the dumb blonde act. “She was sure you’d love it, so she said to bring it around in person as soon as it was done.”
His eyebrows lifted a little, but I’m proud — er, ashamed — to say I’m a good liar, and a moment later, he nodded.
“Well, then. Why don’t you come in and let me see? May I take your coat?”
Chapter Fifteen