A Flush of Diamonds (Magic City Chronicles Book 3)

by TR Cameron

  If someone had been able to peer behind the illusion that concealed her true image, they would see the hooded archer who had made her debut at the Kraken casino battle a week before. The dark hood blended seamlessly into her tunic, and a black balaclava covered all of her face except for her eyes. Sheathed at her belt was a pair of daggers, weapons she had mastered and had the right to carry, and the bow that Kayleigh had given her rested in a holder on her left thigh in its compact form. The quiver positioned diagonally on her back allowed her easy access to the arrows that stuck up over her right shoulder, and it carried a combination of technological and magical options. She’d inwardly laughed while constructing them since no one in the family was aware that she was following in Ruby’s techno-magical footprints. Someday, when the danger had passed, it would be good for a laugh.

  The side door deposited her into the alley that ran beside the casino. She crossed the Strip and continued into the southern part of Ely, and used force magic to launch herself to the top of the agreed-upon two-story building. Ruby’s partner Idryll was waiting for her. The tiger-woman observed, “Right on time. I admire punctuality. Your sister could take a lesson.”

  Morrigan laughed. “That phrase has been used more than once in my family. However, we’ve all come to realize that Ruby is more or less unteachable.”

  The shapeshifter nodded. “Indeed. So, shall we begin?”

  The pair had agreed to meet so Morrigan could learn from the more experienced fighter. Idryll had suggested they “Train with a purpose,” which meant patrolling Magic City's streets while she learned. Morrigan had zero problems with that. “Excellent, let’s do it.” She let the illusion fall away and received a nod of approval.

  Idryll said, “First, you need to learn to move more smoothly. Even for a human, your balance and body positioning is less than adequate.”

  Morrigan scowled. “That’s a pretty abrupt start, but fine, whatever. How can I do better?”

  “Watch me, especially my feet and eyes.” The other woman crossed to the opposite end of the roof, then walked back toward her. Morrigan did her best to notice the things Idryll had instructed her to attend to. The tiger-woman’s stance was about shoulder width, and her steps seemed longer than normal, giving her a flowing motion as she advanced. The eyes were more notable. They didn’t move from side to side or look at the ground ahead of her. Instead, they stayed locked forward. Idryll stopped and asked, “What did you see?”

  Morrigan told her, and the other woman nodded. “Exactly. You must keep your eyes widely focused, so you can see whatever is there without changing what your body is doing. You’ll need to lengthen your step a little, but the stance you use to shoot in is perfectly balanced, so you have the right skills. You just have to practice finding that same feeling when you’re moving.”

  Morrigan nodded, impressed at the immediate practicality of the advice. “Okay, what else?”

  “You have to rely on more than your vision. Ruby has a similar problem, as do all but the most highly trained people I’ve encountered. Close your eyes and listen.”

  She complied, and the city gradually developed a more robust life than she’d noticed before. An argument down on the street was audible over the sound of passing cars on the main road parallel to the strip, and several mechanical and industrial noises she couldn’t make out intruded on her concentration. She opened her eyes. “I see what you mean. I mean, I hear what you mean, but I’m not sure how I can put it to use.”

  “It’s enough for the moment that you’re aware of it.” The tiger-woman had moved to the edge of the roof while her eyes were closed. “We will have to deal with that at another time. Come over here and look down.”

  She complied, following the shapeshifter’s gaze down and to the right, toward the street below. “Do you see it?”

  Morrigan squinted, then remembered Idryll's advice and let her eyes go soft. When she did, a movement that she might have noticed and judged random suddenly seemed connected. A pair of men in dirty clothes walked on opposite sides of the street, but both sets of eyes were focused on an intersection that lay a block away from them. “I see it.”

  “Let’s go find out what they’re up to.” The shapeshifter dashed to the edge of the roof and jumped, leaping over the single-lane road that led between the buildings. Morrigan did the same but assisted by force magic. They crossed to the far side of the building and looked down at the lane the men had been staring at. Four additional men in similar hard-used clothing were there, plus two individuals who were clearly tourists, their wardrobe suggesting a date night or other elegant affair. Nothing in particular about the couple stood out except for their potential wealth, which was likely what interested the others.

  Morrigan asked, “Who are they?”

  “Members of the local criminal element. These call themselves the Demon Boys. I’ve seen them around once or twice when I’ve been out learning the city. Ruby said they seem like a low-level organization. I think organized is a strong word. From what I’ve seen, they’re thieves and brutes looking for quick scores.”

  “Well, they’ll wish they hadn’t picked tonight to try to make one.”

  Idryll faced her with a toothy grin. “Be safe. Don’t risk hitting the innocents. Give me fifteen seconds to get into position.” She ran for the back part of the roof, away from the street the men had been walking on and the lane they’d converged in. Morrigan pulled the collapsed bow from the sheath on her left thigh and hit the button. It gave the mechanical whirr that signaled the construction process, which ended with a snick as the line snapped into place. She’d examined the weapon for hours since receiving it and still couldn’t figure out the technology that made it work. Nonetheless, she was in love with it.

  The arrowheads were a different matter. The file Kayleigh provided had been quite clear about their capabilities, and one was perfect for the situation. She reached over her shoulder for the quiver’s contents. Each metal arrow shaft was etched with a symbol and carried the tiniest bit of power in a sliver of crystal. Her innate magic sense allowed her to find the one she was looking for, and the touch of her bare index finger on the shaft’s etching as she pulled it verified it was correct.

  She nocked the arrow and aimed for a wooden windowsill on the second story of the building across the alley. She let it go, confident that her partner would be waiting around the corner for her signal. The bolt flew true and buried itself in the wood, then exploded in a cacophony and a brilliant flash of light. Everyone in the alley cringed away from the unexpected sensory barrage, and the battle was underway. Morrigan drew a second arrow, this one magical, and fired it at the gangster nearest the tourists. When its blunt head struck the man’s shoulder, a spell activated, wreathing him in lightning. It wouldn’t be powerful enough to render him unconscious but would take him out of the fight for twenty or thirty seconds, which was all she and her partner would need.

  Before that one made contact, she was already reaching back for the next, this time a regular arrow with a wickedly sharp tip. She nocked and loosed it, and it flashed down to stab through the calf of another gangster. The men crowded the tourists with confused yelling and curses, making additional shots potentially dangerous. She hit the button to collapse her bow, shoved it into its holder, and leapt from the roof into the melee below.

  Halfway down, she spotted Idryll charging into the fray. The tiger-woman’s target never saw her coming, and an elbow to the back of his unknowing head took him down. Her speed didn’t lessen, and she interposed herself between the tourists and the four thugs still upright, one of whom was leaning against the wall and moaning curses as he tried to deal with the arrow in his calf. Morrigan used force magic to land safely, and one of the men turned toward her and charged with a growl.

  Morrigan considered going for her daggers, but he was weaponless, and her training included unarmed combat. Her hand-to-hand fighting style was less direct than her sister’s, which always made their practice bouts interesting. She fad
ed sideways as the man threw a punch at her. She grabbed his outstretched wrist with her right hand, rammed her forearm against his extended elbow with her left, and used his momentum to propel him into a curve that ended with his face slamming into the brick wall of the building behind her. He fell to the ground dazed, and she turned to help Idryll finish off the other two.

  The tiger-woman didn’t need her help. In fact, she seemed to be playing with the men. They threw punches, and she blocked them nonchalantly while offering encouraging comments like “Almost” or “Close, try again.” One of them tried a kick, and she stopped it with a raised foot, knocking him slightly off-balance, and delivered a kick to his stomach. He doubled over and fell to his knees. His partner snarled, “Enough of this,” and pulled out a switchblade, snapping it open and holding it up threateningly.

  Idryll laughed and put her hands on her hips. “Really?”

  Either temporarily stupid from bloodlust or simply stupid as a function of his existence, the man pressed the attack and stabbed the knife at Idryll's stomach. The tiger-woman blocked down, forming an “X” with her wrists to stop his arms before the blade could reach her. She grabbed his wrist and wrenched it to the side, snapping the elbow holding the weapon. It clattered to the ground as she whipped her opposite leg up in a roundhouse kick that blasted his consciousness away.

  Morrigan shook her head as she walked up to Idryll. “Not the brightest bulbs, were they?”

  “I’d say not.” Idryll turned to the tourists and ordered, “Get out to the main street and call the police. Tell them there’s a bunch of trash here to pick up.” They nodded and departed, offering grateful if frightened smiles. To Morrigan, she said, “Strip them of anything valuable and tie them up. Use their clothes if you have to. It doesn’t have to hold that long. Or, you know, just make sure they’re all unconscious.”

  Morrigan frowned. “Okay, but why are we robbing them again?”

  Idryll grinned and raised a finger for each reason. “First, punishment for being scumbags who prey on the weak. Second, to reduce their ability to repeat this in the future. Third, and most importantly, we owe favors to a certain helpful organization in town you visited recently.”

  Morrigan realized she was talking about the Abbey and nodded in approval. “Right. Perfect reasons. On it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jared Trenton slammed the door of his black SUV, the annoyance that was his constant companion of late at an uncommonly high level. He shot his cuffs and brushed a piece of lint from his dark suit, adjusted his red power tie, and tossed his keys to the valet. With a nod at the doorman, he stomped into the trendy bar a block off the Magic City Strip. Bright lights, loud noises, and infuriatingly vapid tourists immediately assaulted him. He pushed through them, his elbows hitting a little harder than truly necessary to navigate the press. Finally, he arrived at the back, where small high-top tables were set away from the crowded bar. A drink already awaited him, scotch in a tumbler with an ice ball that didn’t look to have melted much. His partner Grentham sipped from another whiskey glass, looking about as irritated as Jared felt.

  As he took his seat, he pulled a metal mesh bag from his jacket. He slid his phone inside and held it out for the other man to do the same. The business-suited dwarf lowered his dark eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Really. I can’t guarantee that leaks exist, but I can ensure we’re doing everything possible to avoid them if they do.” With a small headshake, the other man produced his phone and slipped it in the bag. Jared zipped it shut, ensuring that signals would neither travel in nor out of it. Then he drank some of his whisky and sighed, swirling the glass to make the ice clink against the sides.

  The dwarf said, “This is your party, partner. What’s up?”

  “The diamonds.”

  “Of course, the diamonds. What about them?”

  A look of disgust appeared on Jared’s face. “They brought in out-of-town security to protect the exhibits.”

  Grentham scowled. “I’m aware. Bunch of jerks, if you ask me.”

  He signaled for another pair of drinks. “Jerks or not, by hiring them the Council is challenging what we’re trying to do here. The boss definitely won’t like that. Obviously, we have to take some kind of action.”

  The dwarf nodded. “Which is exactly what the casino owners will expect, of course.”

  Jared spread his hands wide. “Of course. It doesn’t change the fact that we have to do it.”

  The other man stroked his dark beard. “Okay, then, what’s your plan?”

  He drummed his fingers on the table. “I’ve been thinking about it a little, and it’s starting to come into focus. The first part is making sure we do what we can to limit the new security forces. Obviously, we can’t send people in disguise inside the casinos because unless the disguises are amazing, the anti-magic detectors will pick them up. Plus, it would be way too difficult to avoid them all.” His partner signaled agreement with a nod. “That isn’t true for the ones outside. When the day comes that we want to move, I think we send in our folks to replace their outer guards.”

  “For what purpose?” They were both silent as a server exchanged their empty tumblers for new drinks, then Grentham continued, “I mean, I get the idea of reducing their numbers. But is there more to it than that?”

  Jared shrugged. “They open the doors and fade away. Those people can be low-level. They don’t need to know the big picture.”

  The dwarf laughed. “Oh, so there’s a big picture? Are you planning on sharing it at some point?”

  Jared’s lips twisted in a scowl and he offered a neutral, “Screw you. What we’ll do is spread the word around town on the day of. To everyone, small operators to big groups, letting them know the casinos are vulnerable.”

  “There’s more to it, I’m sure. What about the big display?”

  He grinned. “Why, we hit that ourselves, of course. Even after splitting it with the boss, that will set us up for years, if not a lifetime.”

  “Speaking of the big guy, you’re going to clear this with him, right?”

  “It would be suicide not to. I’m heading over there tonight.”

  The dwarf lifted an eyebrow. “Alone?”

  Jared nodded. “You’re off the hook this time. Lucky bastard.”

  “I would’ve needed a bunch more drinks to get ready for that. That guy is spooky.”

  With a small growl that did nothing to reduce his continuing irritation, Jared pushed himself up from the table. “No doubt about it. I feel like we’ve only touched the surface of just how spooky he can be.”

  Jared arrived in Reno in the early morning hours and dropped his car with the valet at the Golden Legacy Casino. An instant after he strode inside, a man ghosted up to walk beside him. The newcomer had a blond flattop, wore dark sunglasses despite being indoors, and conveyed the same attitude in the open space of the gambling hall as he had in the closed space of the car when they’d previously met one-on-one. Jared said, “Smith.”

  “Trenton.” They exchanged no further words as they made their way to an open elevator at the back of the hotel. It was smaller than the main ones, with a uniformed rent-a-cop standing in front of it. Smith breezed by without acknowledging the guard, withdrew a card on a cord from his pants pocket, and inserted it into the elevator’s control panel. He pressed the button for the penthouse. Then the card vanished as deftly as it had appeared.

  Jared spent the ride to the top of the hotel tower staring at his reflection, making sure he was as calm and composed on the outside as he felt anxious and uncomfortable on the inside. It’s like going into an insane asylum and not being sure they’ll let you out again. The doors opened directly onto a reception area, with two more guards standing inside it. One he’d never seen, and he knew the other as one of the two Joneses that worked for the boss. He nodded a greeting, but the others didn’t return the gesture. Smith observed, “Wise not to carry anything that might be construed as a weapon. I would’ve shot you in the elevato
r.”

  Jared nodded. “I’m aware.” His escort gestured to the right, and they walked down a short hallway into a beautiful living room. Windows made up the back wall, showing a mountainscape in the distance. The furniture was all white leather, the low tables metal and glass, and two figures sat together on a couch. The man, Gabriel “The Nightmare” Sloane, was dressed in an expensive business suit. His George Clooney-esque looks were as fresh as if he’d just gotten up despite the late hour.

  His wife, who sat beside him—actually, partially on top of him, since her legs were crossed over his lap—wore something even more provocative than the tight sheath she’d worn in the limousine. The bright red dress barely covered any of her legs, and the top plunged, revealing almost as much as it obscured. A stupid person would think she was a trophy wife. Jared had seen her eyes. She was every bit as spooky, to use Grentham's term—or downright crazy, as he thought of it—as her husband.

  Jared said, “Good evening. Thank you for seeing me.”

  Sloane nodded. His tone was neutral and seemingly unconcerned, almost to the level of disinterest. “So, the diamonds. I’ve heard about the out-of-town security company and don’t like it a bit. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “We figure we’ll throw the place into chaos as a distraction and hit the big collection at Spirits ourselves.”

  The boss ran a hand absently along his wife’s leg. “What assurance do I have that this will go better than your other recent operations?”

  The neutral tone spread a chill through Jared’s veins. “This time we’ll have overwhelming force. Nothing left to chance. Even if some meddlers show up, we’ll easily handle them.”