An hour passed. One more. Gabriel needed to see her again.
He wanted to ask about the mint. That’s all it was. Just wanted to make sure Jacinda had everything she needed—that the patrons were satisfied, that he didn’t need to do another grocery run.
But his witch wasn’t behind the bar where he’d left her. The woman serving drinks now was one of his former Vegas bartenders, Maritza.
The bad mojo from earlier crept back up along his spine, squeezing his throat.
He searched the main level, the VIP rooms, the wine cellar. He paced the balcony, scanning the crowds for a glimpse of her silver-blond hair. He even checked the restrooms, startling a threesome of witches who’d been particularly… engrossed.
Jacinda was nowhere to be found.
He returned to the other bartender, shouting across the
