Hexed

enemies want her trapped in this hotel, and they don’t want her to get help.”
    Thinking about that, I wondered why the ultra-bad sorcerer hadn’t waited until Cassandra was alone to confront and kill her. I could understand a sadistic man making Cassandra watch her friends die first, but why would he allow her the potential help of a dragon and the god Coyote? Why risk that?
    Something was wrong here, and I needed to know what. But even if Cassandra had neglected to tell us everything, it didn’t really matter. We were cut off and in trouble, and now we were without the magic mirror’s communication ability. We needed help.
    “We need Nash,” I said. If dragons were out, Nash Jones was the next best thing.
    “Don’t you think I’ve been trying to call him?” Maya demanded. “I told you, all the cell phones are out and so is your landline.”
    She went silent as we both watched Carlos circle back to the saloon, frown in puzzlement at the door again, then drift to his car and get in it. He started up, his taillights flashing as he pulled away from the parking lot. Maya muttered under her breath, calling Carlos more names.
    “Let him go,” I said. “And let’s concentrate on contacting Nash.”
    “How?” Maya asked sourly. “Smoke signals?”
    “Maybe. I’ll think of something.”
    I left the saloon a lot less confident than when I’d gone in. I made for Coyote, who still lounged by the coyote statue as though drawing comfort from the stone. He’d at least wiped the blood off his face.
    Mick was touching the walls again. He was becoming obsessed. Maya thumped down on a couch, folded her arms, and pretended to ignore us.
    “Tell me you really do have your god powers,” I said, sitting on the steps next to Coyote.
    “Sorry, Stormwalker. Tell me you’re not going to try the Beneath magic again, when we can’t predict what the hex will do to it.”
    “I will use it to defend my friends if I have to. I’ll not stand by and let the sorcerer, whoever he is, kill us or get to Cassandra.” When the ununculous attacked, I planned to kill him. Quickly. End of problem.
    “When he comes,” Coyote said, as though he’d read my mind, “Mick fights him, not you. Mick’s the only one who can.”
    “Like hell I’m letting Mick face an over-the-top powerful sorcerer on his own. If I can take this guy down, I’m doing it.”
    Coyote gave me a stern look. “You need to stop and think about what kind of forces you’d be unleashing if you use your Beneath magic, Janet. Undampened, on something like that sorcerer, with everything complicated by his hex. There’s no way of knowing what kind of magic he’ll be drawing on. The two of you could rip open the vortexes and release who the hell knows what, including your bitch-queen goddess mother. I will not let you do that.”
    My blood chilled. The desert to the east of my hotel was riddled with vortexes, confluences of mystical energy. New Agers liked them, thinking that they enhanced their chi or whatever, but I knew what vortexes really were—gateways to the world Beneath. If my mother got out, she wouldn’t be looking to have a happy family reunion. She’d destroy every single person she could get her hands on, beginning with those most special to me. What she’d do with me, I had no idea, but it wouldn’t be anything good.
    I was about to concede that Coyote had a point when Mick rushed across the room, yanked Coyote up by the shirt, and slammed him against the statue.
    “Mick!” I protested.
    I was more worried about the sculpture than Coyote, but Mick’s eyes were black with fury. “I told you what I’d do if you threatened my mate again,” Mick snarled.
    “He wasn’t threatening,” I tried. “He was explaining.”
    Coyote might be out of magic, but Mick wasn’t. His eyes were still black dark, and fire flared from his fingers. Flame magic licked up the arms of Coyote’s jeans jacket, threatening to burn him alive.
    Coyote solved the problem by turning into a coyote. Mick suddenly had his hands full of a hundred or so pounds of enraged beast while Coyote’s clothes fell from him in smoking shreds. Mick’s eyes filled with fire, and his tattoos began to glow red.
    “Don’t turn into a dragon!” I shouted at him. “Don’t you dare turn into a dragon!”
    Coyote kept snarling, fighting, clawing, and Mick fought him. Maya drew her legs up under her on the sofa and watched. The commotion brought Fremont and Cassandra from the