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But Cassandra was not listening. She gave Gabriel a mega-rez smile showing a lot of brilliant white teeth, produced a business card, and handed it to him with a graceful flourish.

“Cassandra Keele, of Keele Investigations. Welcome to Illusion Town, Mr. Jones. We’re all delighted to have our own Guild. It’s even better than a sports franchise. My firm specializes in high-rez talents whocan work aboveground and in the Underworld. Discretion and client confidentiality absolutely guaranteed. Please call if you need our expertise for any reason. We know the local territory.”

“Thanks,” Gabriel said. He slipped the business card into the same pocket he had used for the Weather Wizards card.

Cassandra looked as if she was about to continue her sales pitch, but a masculine voice interrupted.

“Lucy, I heard you were here tonight.” A well-dressed, open-faced man stopped at the alcove. “You look fabulous, by the way. How are you feeling these days?”

“I’m great, Dillon,” Lucy said. “Fully recovered.”

“Good, good, glad to hear it.” The newcomer swung around to give Gabriel a warm, professional smile. He held out a business card. “Dillon Westover. Westover Outfitters. Everything you need to explore the Underworld. We can handle bulk orders for flamers, navigation amber, and Rainforest gear, as well as supplies and equipment for every condition you’re likely to encounter down below. We guarantee delivery within twenty-four hours.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gabriel said. He added the card to his growing collection and then made a show of checking the time. He smiled at Lucy. “We should be on our way. We want to get an early start tomorrow.”

“Right.” She set her unfinished champagne down with some speed and looked around. “We need to find Otis.”

A horrified scream echoed across the ballroom. Gabriel realized that everyone was turning toward the buffet table.

“Uh-oh,” Lucy said.

She dove into the crowd, heading in the direction of the loudest shrieks. Gabriel followed. The trail led to a table draped in a pristine white tablecloth. A large, multitiered, elaborately decorated engagement cake was displayed on top of the table.

Otis was on the top layer, his rear paws sunk deep in thick frosting.He was munching his way through the amber-yellow sugar roses that crowned the cake. The path he had used to climb to the top was etched in the frosting on each layer.

When he noticed Lucy bearing down on him, he chortled and graciously offered her a rose.

“Otis, how could you?” Lucy grabbed him off the top of the cake and tucked him under her arm, heedless of his frosting-covered paws.

The head caterer and his staff stared at her, stricken. They were not the only ones in shock, Gabriel noticed. Tony Spence and Emeline Newport were gazing, openmouthed, at the ruins of the giant engagement cake.

Lucy squared her shoulders and gave the caterers a dazzling smile.

“My apologies,” she said. “Send me the bill for the cake.”

The head caterer pulled himself together. “Your name, madam?”

“Lucy Bell,” Lucy said. “Professional weather channeler. Best in the business. Currently under contract to the Guild, but when the job is finished I will be available for consultation. My card.”

She opened her small clutch purse, took out a handful of business cards, and scattered them across the buffet table.

“Tony, Emeline, I am so sorry,” she said.

She whirled around and went briskly toward the entrance of the ballroom. The crowd parted before her. Gabriel managed to catch up with her just as they reached the gilded doors. He took her arm.

“I’m sure making a dramatic exit is even more effective than making a good entrance,” he said.

“You may be right,” Lucy said. “But something tells me I won’t be getting an invitation to the wedding.”

Chapter Seven

Lucy sank into the richly upholstered back seat of the limo and took a deep breath. Gabriel got in beside her and closed the door. Otis wriggled out from under Lucy’s arm and hopped up onto the back of the driver’s seat. He chortled at Joe and offered him a sugar rose.

“Thanks, pal,” Joe said.

He popped the rose into his mouth and put the limo in gear. Otis leaned over his shoulder and gave an encouraging noise.

“He likes to go fast,” Lucy explained.