Rook checked with the front desk clerk, then led us to one of the suites on the top floor. It had a werewolf theme and Rachel complained that it wasn’t a vampire’s lair. Personally I liked the artwork with the wolves howling at the moon and the gray and blue color scheme. Just minutes after we made it to our suite Solomon knocked then strode into the room with two women in tow. He was slender, about my height with sandy blonde hair cut in a short, messy style that suited his artistic personality. Unlike most of the staff here at Myths and Legends who appeared to be in their early thirties Solomon looked like a Gothic teenager, nineteen or twenty tops. I’d always thought of him as a magician but he called himself a sorcerer. Until the night of the bombing I could never figure out how he pulled off his spectacular shows with smoke and mirrors. Now I knew the magic he wielded was very real and more powerful than I could have imagined. If it hadn’t been for the protective ward he threw up around The Gateway, the fires caused by the bomb would have spread to the rest of the hotel before the firefighters were able to get them under control.
