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Beginner's Luck: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (The Forsaken Mage Book 1) Page 8


  There was no blade at the end of the handle, but something ripped through my flesh all the same. Blood ran hot down my arm and soaked my jacket sleeve as a spectral blue, vaguely knife-shaped form shot all the way through me and flew off into the night. Son of a bitch, that hurt.

  “That’s enough out of you,” I snarled at Alistair, and clocked his jaw hard enough to bruise my knuckles. His head snapped to the side, and he finally went still.

  I scrambled off him with a gasp, grabbed one of the lifewater vials from my pocket and poured it over my arm. The screaming pain eased to a throb, and I could feel the bleeding slow but not stop. Whatever he’d just cut me with was going to leave a mark. “There, you see?” I said to Titus as I backed away from Alistair, who’d already started to twitch again. “It was all him.”

  Titus practically radiated anger, probably because he still couldn’t do anything to me. “I suppose it was,” he said as he stepped over to the unconscious man and grabbed his arm. “He will be detained and questioned. As for you, Mr. Wyatt, I’d appreciate it if you would at least attempt to stay out of trouble.”

  “Hold on. I want to ask him—” I stopped talking and heaved a sigh when Titus abruptly disappeared with his prisoner.

  He’d have taken him to King Towers, the UV’s administrative building where the Enforcers operated out of the basement. They generally didn’t allow visitors, so I’d have to wait until they let Alistair sleep off the vamp blood and wring whatever confession they could get out of him before I could perform my own interrogation on the street hustler. Something I definitely intended to do as soon as possible.

  Maybe Alistair knew something about this whole mess with the watch and the tournament. And if he did, he was damned well going to spill it to me.

  14

  I got to the Chute around eleven the next morning, with a good hour to spare before the qualifier rounds started. Once I’d checked in with my thumbprint and ID at the Esmeralda Room and got my first table assignment, I headed for the main bar to see who else would show up first. Mist and Elias, the old man throwing the party tonight, were both entering the tournament, and Arden would be here to watch the fun, though she wouldn’t be at Elias’s place tonight.

  I hadn’t hung out with Elias since before I played Cayn for the watch, which was actually unusual for me. The old man had been my ticket to the UV after years of searching for a way in. Of course, no one knew the real reason I’d been so determined to come to the city, to stay here, and I intended to keep it that way. Life in the UV would get complicated for me if people found out, so that mission was something I had to handle alone, and discreetly.

  But Elias was family, more or less. I’d met him at a high-stakes game in normal Vegas, and he’d seen potential in me. The personal invitation to this city came about a week later. Since then, I’d found out that he was not only rich, powerful, and owned the biggest library of books on magic and lore in the world but was also a necromancer.

  I didn’t let that bother me, though. Everybody needed a hobby, and Elias’s happened to be magic that involved dead people.

  Once I’d elbowed through the drinking, chatting throngs, I ordered a Fireball and took my harmlessly flaming drink to one of the few open tables in the vast seating area that ringed the circular bar. As I watched the crowds, a woman at the bar counter caught my eye, and not just because she was drop-dead gorgeous with long red hair, big green eyes, and a skin-tight leather bodysuit. She looked familiar. I’d seen her around, mostly at the smaller hole-in-the-wall casinos and a bar or two, but I’d always been too busy to find out more about her.

  Right now, she was talking to a sad sack of a guy hunched over his drink at the counter, but her gaze kept straying in my direction and staying on me longer. Eventually, the man she was talking to shook his head, drained his drink, and signaled for the bartender, and the redhead turned and headed toward me.

  I flashed her a grin as she stopped at my table. “If you’re looking for someone to buy you a drink, you’ve got good instincts,” I said. “Whatever you want, it’s on me.”

  “Whatever I want?” she said with a seductive smile, sliding into the seat across from me. “Let’s talk about what you want instead.”

  Damned if that didn’t put a prick in my happy little balloon. That was a pitch line if I ever heard one. “Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t pay for that kind of a good time,” I told her. “But I’m a nice guy, so I’ll still buy you a drink if you want.”

  She looked surprised for a few seconds and then laughed. “Maybe I’m not selling what you think I am,” she said as she crossed her legs and leaned toward me, her full lips twitching at the corners. “I can get you any kind of a good time you’re looking for. Anything you want in the whole world. And it won’t cost you a dime.”

  “Shit,” I said as the light dawned. “You’re a Collector, aren’t you?”

  “Actually I prefer ‘dream broker,’ or even ‘personal angel.’ Those are much nicer terms, don’t you think?” she said. “My name is Zorah. And you are?”

  “Not interested,” I said, tossing back the rest of my Fireball. “I like my soul right where it is, thanks.”

  Her smile turned crooked. “Ah, a hard sell. My favorite.”

  “You keep barking up this particular tree, and it’s gonna bark back harder,” I said as I looked into her dazzling green eyes. It really was a shame that she was a bottom-feeding abomination who professionally ruined people’s lives because, otherwise, she was incredible. “I don’t make bargains with Collectors. I beat them and take their shit. Haven’t you heard that, or don’t you monsters talk to each other?”

  “Monsters?” she echoed, looking faintly hurt. “That’s a little unfair, you know. We never force anyone to sell their souls. That choice is entirely up to the human.” I couldn’t help hearing the faint disdain she injected into the word ‘human.’ “And no, I don’t talk to the other … monsters, if I can help it. They’re the competition.”

  I raised an eyebrow, suddenly interested in spite of myself. Admittedly, I didn’t know much about Collector politics. “So, what, you guys have an office pool going for who steals the most souls every week or something?”

  “We don’t steal,” Zorah said, her eyes flashing. “We have rules.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I said as I grinned. It was kind of fun making her mad. “Well, your co-worker Cayn isn’t exactly following the rules these days. In fact, he’s breaking them left and right, trying to get something back that I won from him.”

  She gave a slow blink. “You’re Seth Wyatt, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” I said. “So you do talk to the competition.”

  “No, I don’t,” she said stiffly, “but I have heard of you. And what I’ve heard is that you cheated Cayn in a card game and somehow managed not to get busted by the Enforcers.”

  “Excuse me, but that’s a load of bullshit.” Now I was the one getting angry. I went to a lot of trouble making sure I had a reputation as an honest gambler. “I don’t cheat, period. I beat that son of a bitch fair and square, and he’s trying to pull some kind of take-backsies by reneging on his bargains.”

  That really got her attention. “What bargains?” she said as she sat up straighter.

  “All of them,” I told her. “I never made a deal with Cayn, but he’s offered a pretty sweet bargain to all his victims. Said if anyone brings him what I won from him, he’ll give their souls back and let them keep whatever they sold it for. So now they’re all trying to kill me.”

  Throughout my little speech, Zorah’s expression slid into shock. “He can’t do that,” she said. “It’s not allowed. What did you win from him, exactly?”

  I shrugged and pulled my sleeve up, exposing the roulette watch. “This,” I said, figuring most everybody knew about the watch already, so there was no reason not to tell her. “And before you ask, the answer is no. I have no idea why he wants it back so badly.”

  The Collector stared at the watch for a long mom
ent. “I don’t, either,” she finally said in a considering tone. “But I’m almost inclined to help you find out.”

  “You are?” I said. “And why would you do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re cute.” She smiled again, but there was something bitter in the expression. “And let’s just say I have no love for Cayn, and leave it at that. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said as she pushed her chair back from the table and stood, “I have work to do.”

  “Oh, right. Things to do, people to fuck over for eternity,” I said. “You have fun with that.”

  She paused for a moment. “You know, some of us monsters aren’t so bad,” she said in a soft tone as a look of abject sorrow washed over her face for just a second. “And some of you humans are a lot worse than us. Maybe I’ll see you around, Mr. Wyatt.”

  I kinda wanted to say ‘not if I see you first’ or something equally witty and lame, but instead, I just watched her melt into the crowds. I didn’t know why, but I almost felt sorry for her. It might’ve been just the mutual hatred for Cayn or that she’d called me cute, but I didn’t think so. In fact, I got the sense that she was trapped somehow, stuck in a job she hated, even if it was a job that happened to be reprehensible.

  Someone called my name, and I pulled away from thinking about gorgeous, evil Collectors as I spotted Elias and Mist making their way toward me. I waved them over, looking forward to the distraction of friends before the qualifiers started.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t think I’d be able to stop seeing Zorah’s haunted eyes or the misery that’d shown briefly on her face anytime soon.

  15

  The tournament qualifiers were set up in two rounds of five-player table games. You had to place in the top three of the first round to advance to the second, and the top two from each second-round table qualified for the tournament.

  I’d already qualified, and now I was just playing down my last second-round opponent because I could.

  His name was Santino, and he wasn’t half-bad at the game. He’d pulled off a pretty impressive triple-barrel bluff early on that forced another player out, and had been set-mining the most aggressive player at the table before I took that guy out with a squeeze play. But now his stacks were riding low, and he’d gone into conservation mode. Which meant I had to push him into the pot.

  I did it with a reverse tell, staring long and hard at the flop like I couldn’t believe the cards had betrayed me. I was actually sitting on a pair of pocket aces and a third to match them with on the table. Meanwhile, Santino glanced at his chips with a stone-faced expression and hunched over the table a little, so I figured he’d connected with the pair of eights that came up with the ace on the flop.

  He went all-in on the turn when the dealer laid down a king. But to his credit, he barely twitched when I laid out the double aces to his eight and king. And I could see it really burned him when another king came up on the river, giving him a strong two-way hand that still couldn’t beat me since my full house was aces-high.

  Still, he was cool about it and shook hands after the game ended. We wished each other luck at the tournament, and I headed for the bar area where Elias, Mist, and Arden had grabbed a table.

  “I knew you’d win,” Arden said when I sat in the empty chair beside her, across from Mist. “It’s too bad you didn’t draw Joad at one of your tables, though, because he’s in too.”

  “Of course he is,” I said. “But hell, I’m glad for that. It’s no fun if I’m not the one who beats him.”

  Elias laughed and shook his head. He was in full Gandalf mode today, with his long gray beard and loose gray, belted robe. All he needed was a stupid pointy hat, but he’d never be caught dead wearing one of those. “Now I know why I’ve been dreading the day you could enter the Four Skulls, Seth,” he said. “I’m never going to win this damned thing. Not that I need to,” he added with a wink.

  “Yeah, you don’t have a shortage of fame and fortune,” I laughed and looked from him to Mist. “You guys are both in, right?”

  “Barely,” Mist said with a good-natured sigh. “I mean, Elias kicked ass, as usual, but I just made it by the skin of my teeth. Placed third and second.”

  “Well, my dear, you made it. That’s what matters,” Elias said, giving her arm a fatherly pat. “And that’s exactly what we’re celebrating tonight. All these victories.”

  “I’m kinda bummed you guys are going to have all that fun without me,” Arden said as she pouted a little. “Wish I could make the party, but I’ve got a gig at the Starlite.”

  “Which will be awesome,” I said. Arden was an entertainer, a damned good singer who also happened to be able to enhance her act with magic. When she performed, she drew some of the biggest crowds in the UV. “Besides, it’s not like Elias is going to stop throwing parties,” I added with a smirk. “He’d have a party to celebrate finding a twenty-dollar bill in the pocket of his other robe, and he’d spend a few thousand to throw it.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Elias said, grinning. “And speaking of parties, Seth, I haven’t seen you at my last few. Is there something you want to tell me, possibly about a rogue Collector trying to have you killed for a watch?”

  “Er, yeah,” I said with a deliberate cough. I could tell Elias was upset that I hadn’t come to him about it right away. “I was going to talk to you about that tonight. I mean, it’s a pretty recent development, but I’m handling it. More or less.”

  “Yes, so I hear. Mist told me about the amulet,” Elias said. “At least some people manage to keep an old man informed when his friends are being hunted in the streets by everyone who’s ever sold their souls to that Collector.”

  “It’s not like that,” I said as I mentally added, Well, not yet, at least. “I mean, the only person who’s tried to come after me so far was Alistair.”

  Arden gaped at me, and Mist nearly choked on her drink. “That twitchy street guy who runs the Three Card Monte scam?” Mist said as her eyes widened. “What the hell did he sell his soul for? He doesn’t have anything.”

  “Yeah, that’s about what I said.” Honestly, I almost wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d sold it for a hit of vamp blood, but Alistair wasn’t actually stupid. He was weak and sad and kind of smarmy, but his mind was sharp enough to fleece most of the tourists he enticed to his table. “Maybe I’ll ask him after the Enforcers let him go.”

  “Hold on. He got picked up by an Enforcer?” Arden said. “For what?”

  I shrugged. “Probably should’ve been attempted murder, but I doubt that’s the charge they’re going to use,” I said. “Titus is the one who took him, and he doesn’t care if anyone’s trying to kill me.”

  For some reason, Elias looked distinctly uncomfortable when I mentioned Titus. “Why did an Enforcer show up at all?” he said. “As far as I know, they don’t consider Alistair a threat.”

  “Someone called them,” I said. And the more I thought about it, the more I suspected that the someone was Joad. If any of the Enforcers, especially Titus, managed to pin something on me, I’d never make the tournament. Titus would Smite me into next Tuesday if he got half the chance.

  And Joad knew it. He’d been there the first time I tangled with Titus.

  “You know what, there’s something I have to take care of,” I said as I stood from the table. The Enforcers might’ve let Alistair go by now, and I wanted to find out if they had said anything to him about what happened. If Joad was trying to frame me out of the tournament, I might have to take preemptive action to avoid having every bone in my body broken. “Good luck with your gig tonight, Arden,” I said, and then nodded to Elias and Mist. “See you guys at the party.”

  After a round of goodbyes, I headed back through the busy casino with my thoughts in a whirl. All of this stuff — Joad and the tournament, Cayn and the watch, Victor Nash and the amulet he’d commissioned years ago that somehow met my needs perfectly — felt like it added up to a much bigger picture, but I was missing a hell of a lot
of puzzle pieces. And I had to find them soon.

  I was so focused on getting to the exit so that I could look for Alistair, I almost ran straight into someone who’d stopped directly in front of me. I did a double-take when I took in the red hair, green eyes, and leather suit.

  “Mr. Wyatt,” Zorah said in almost a whisper, looking around as if she was afraid someone might be listening. “I’d really like to talk to you if you have time. Somewhere else.”

  It was then I realized something I really should’ve noticed before. She was supposedly a Collector, but my amulet wasn’t glowing in her presence. There was something wrong with this picture. “I’m not sure that’s in my best interests,” I said evenly as I met her worried gaze. “You’re not really a Collector, are you?”

  “How …?” Her brow furrowed slightly, and she glanced around again. “I really am, but … it’s kind of a long story,” she said. “I’ll tell you if you’ll have dinner with me. Right now.”

  She sounded almost desperate to get out of the Chute, and for some reason, I kind of felt obliged to protect her from whatever was scaring her. “All right,” I said. “I know a great place on—”

  “We’re going to the Black Cauldron,” Zorah said quickly. “I, er, made a reservation. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. I knew of the place, but I’d never been there because it was a grungy little hole in the wall that everyone avoided on principle. But judging from the way she was acting right now, maybe that was the point. “Let’s go, I guess.”

  She grabbed my hand and practically dragged me toward the exit. I gave a bemused smile as she pulled me along, intrigued by all this cloak-and-dagger stuff.

  Whatever she wanted, this was going to be interesting.

  16

  From the outside, the Black Cauldron looked like someone had decided to nail a bunch of boards across the front of an alley and call whatever was behind it a restaurant. The place was squeezed between a souvenir shop and a secondhand bookstore on Arthur Avenue between Merlin and Camelot, like an unwelcome squatter or a disease waiting to happen.