Gunmetal Magic: A Novel in the World of Kate Daniels

suitably menacing. They very carefully didn’t look at us.
    Inside, a deluge of sound assaulted us: the noises of slot machines, refitted to work during magic, metal ringing, music, beeping, mixing with shouts from the crowd surrendering their hard-earned money for the promise of easy cash. Lemon-scented perfume drifted through the cold air—the People were keeping their customers awake, because the sleeping couldn’t gamble.
    Curran wrinkled his nose.
    “Almost there, baby,” I told him, zeroing in on the service entrance door at the far end of the vast room.
    A large overweight man spun away from the machines and ran into Curran. “Hey! Watch it!”
    Curran sidestepped him and we kept walking.
    “Asshole!” the man barked at our backs.
    “I love this place,” Curran said.
    “It’s so serene and peaceful, and filled with considerate people. I thought you’d enjoy the ambiance.”
    “I adore it.”
    We passed through the service entrance. One of the journeymen, a man in black trousers, a black shirt, and a dark purple vest rose from behind the desk.
    “How can I help you?”
    “It’s alright, Stuart.” A woman descended the stairway on the side, walking into the room. She was five two and looked like an anatomical impossibility created from adolescent boys’ dreams. Tiny waist, generous hips, and an award-winning chest, wrapped in dusky silk. Her hair fell down past her butt in red wavy locks, and when she smiled at you, you had a strong urge to do whatever she asked. Her name was Rowena and she ran the People’s PR department and piloted the undead for a living.
    She was also in debt to the witches, which in a roundabout way caused her to be in debt to me. If I asked a favor, she had to grant it, a fact we both carefully hid from everyone.
    “Mr. Lennart. Ms. Daniels.” Rowena fired off a beautiful smile. “Lawrence is waiting for you upstairs. Follow me, please.”
    We followed, Rowena’s shiny perfect butt shifting as she walked up the stairs two feet in front of us. Curran heroically didn’t look at it.
    She led us to a small room with a two-way mirror. One would’ve expected a table, severe gray walls, and chairs bolted to the floor in an interrogation room, but no, the walls were cream with a delicate pale lattice carved at the top and the furniture consisted of a modern sofa and two soft chairs companionably arranged around a coffee table. Lawrence sat on the edge of the sofa. He looked pale and his eyes were bloodshot.
    We sat in the chairs across from him.
    “Do you know who we are?” Curran said quietly.
    Lawrence nodded. “I’ve been briefed. I’m supposed to cooperate.”
    I pulled out a notepad from my pocket. “How long did you know Amanda?”
    Lawrence swallowed. “Three years. She was admitted as an apprentice right after her high school graduation.”
    “How long had you dated?” I asked.
    “Thirteen months next week,” he said. His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat.
    “Tell us about her family,” Curran said.
    Lawrence sighed. “She didn’t like them.”
    “Why not?” I prompted.
    “She said her mother was very cold. Aurellia would go through the motions, make sure that Amanda and her brother were fed and appropriately dressed. She was very specific about their schedule. The Steel Calendar, Amanda called it. If they had a doctor’s appointment or a school trip, it was put on the calendar and there was no deviation allowed from it. Amanda had perfect attendance her entire four years in high school. No matter how sick she was, her mother would send her to school. Never late. But there was no love or real warmth there.”
    “And her father?” Curran asked.
    “Colin worships the ground Aurellia walks on.” Lawrence gave a bitter laugh. “It’s like he is blind when she’s in the room. The only time Amanda could talk to him was when her mother was otherwise occupied. She couldn’t wait to get out of that house. She told me that’s why she enlisted with the People. The apprentices qualify for room and board in the Casino.”
    “Was her mother upset because Amanda did this?” I asked.
    “Aurellia doesn’t get upset. She’s like a pretty robot,” Lawrence said. “Never screams. Never loses her temper. I don’t think she cared one way or another.”
    “Have you ever interacted with the parents personally?” Curran asked.
    “Yes. We went to a dinner once. Colin seemed normal. Aurellia didn’t speak, except when she ordered her food. I got