Beginner's Luck_An Urban Fantasy Adventure

by J. A. Cipriano

  Turned out I didn’t need to amuse myself because Arden was already on the sidelines. She caught sight of me heading her way and rushed over, wearing an adorable pout. “I went bust in the first round, can you believe that?” she said, shaking her head. “That’s five grand I’m not getting back tonight. Oh, well. How was your trip to the Dregs?”

  “Dark. Terrifying. The usual,” I said with a smirk. No one actually enjoyed going to Golar’s, and most people were just glad to come back out alive. “So, did you still want to stick around and play a while, or what?”

  She smiled slyly. “Actually, I’d rather go play at your place, if you don’t mind.”

  “You’re on,” I said. It wasn’t like the Chute held anything new and interesting for me, and I didn’t need the money.

  Arden led the way back through the blackjack area and past the main bar, then slowed and glanced over at the poker tables on the other side of the bar. “Hey, are you going to enter that?” she said as she stopped and pointed at something. “You’re eligible this year, and tomorrow’s the last day for signups.”

  I followed her gesture to a big banner sign over one of the closed poker rooms that read Four Skulls Tournament: Register Here, 9 A.M. to Noon.

  “Holy shit, I forgot all about that,” I said. The Chute held an annual poker tournament with a steep entry fee and strict rules. You could only enter if you’d been on the Underground registry for at least three years, and I’d missed that qualifier by a few weeks last year. It was a single-winner, single-prize tourney, and the prize was always a unique, powerful magical item. “I can still sign up tomorrow, you said? What’s the prize this year?”

  She tilted her head up and grinned. “A luck pendant.”

  Okay, I didn’t know what that was, but I needed to win it. “The entry fee’s still five million cash, right?”

  “Yup, but you don’t need it yet,” she said. “You have to make it through the qualifying rounds first, and it’s only a grand to register for those. Just remember, you have to be here before noon.”

  “No problem,” I said with a shrug. I’d have plenty of time in the morning to stop back at Golar’s a little after nine, pick up my watch, and head to the Chute. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

  “Leaving so soon?” an annoyingly familiar and unwelcome voice said behind me. “Don’t go yet, Wyatt. You haven’t heard why you should never come back here, especially tomorrow.”

  I was already bristling before I turned around to look at him, knowing damned well it was Joad. And there he was, in the flesh.

  If I had a nemesis, it was Joad Baylor, winner of last year’s Four Skulls and all-around smug bastard. His poker skills were about the only thing he had going for him. In all other respects, he was a miserable excuse for a human being, a trust fund baby and a naturally selfish, condescending dickhole whose parents had kicked the bucket a few years ago and left him a limitless fortune. And he used that fortune to accumulate power and influence in the UV. Nobody actually liked him, but everyone pretended to because he could either buy you or flatten you.

  I’d never climbed on the Joad Train, and he hated me for it. In fact, he was my first vendetta.

  “Why, what’s happening tomorrow?” I finally said. “Are they finally going to arrest you for being a colossal asshole without a license? Because I’ll tell you right now, nothing would make me miss that.”

  Joad shook his head like he felt sorry for me. “You might as well not bother entering the tournament,” he said. “Your pathetic ass is never going to win, especially against me.”

  “Yeah?” I snorted. “If my ass is so pathetic, why are you worried about me entering?”

  “I’m not. I just thought I’d save you the trouble of losing all that money,” he said, and a threatening look flashed in his eyes. “Don’t enter the Four Skulls, Wyatt. This is your only warning.”

  He pushed between Arden and me, sauntering toward the slot machines, and I grabbed Arden’s arm as she lunged for him with an irritated growl. “He’s not worth it,” I told her. “You know if you even tried anything, he’d call an Enforcer down on you.”

  She sighed and relented. “He’s still a world-class douchebag,” she said as she glared after him. “You’re not gonna listen to him, are you? I mean, now you basically have to crush him like a bug in the tournament. It’s like a moral imperative.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.” I knew I could beat Joad at poker, I’d just never gotten the chance to try. The son of a bitch would get up and leave the table if I sat down where he was playing. So yeah, he was definitely worried that I’d beat him, and probably humiliate him in the process.

  But there was something more behind this warning. I’d seen it in his eyes, a purely lethal threat that’d never been there before. And I had a strong feeling that his ‘last warning’ was just the beginning.

  Unfortunately for him, that only made me want to crush him more.

  8

  My place was a penthouse apartment at Moonlight Gardens, one of the few residential buildings in the UV. Every apartment building in the area had exorbitant prices, long-ass waiting lists, and certain unspoken rules that guaranteed some people would be placed in a unit a hell of a lot faster than others. I hadn’t been one of those people when I got the apartment. But I’d known from the first time I set foot in this secret little corner of the world that I belonged here, and that I had to stay.

  So instead of sticking my name on some list and waiting years for the chance at being placed, I’d challenged the first person I found who already had an apartment, and won it off him.

  At least the rain had stopped by the time Arden and I started walking back from the Chute, so we were relatively dry by the time I entered the lobby of my building. I waved to Jon, the overnight desk man, as we passed through the full-length magelight scanner on the way to the elevators. When we reached the top floor, where the only door led to my place, I dug my keys from my pocket and got it unlocked.

  By the time I stepped through and turned to hold the door for Arden, she’d already stripped naked. She walked past me with a wicked smile, dropping her clothes in the middle of the living room.

  We only made it as far as the couch.

  An hour or so later, after we’d had plenty of fun to make up for lost times, Arden got up still naked and padded toward the kitchenette across the room. “Want a beer?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, sure.” I groaned a little as I dropped my arm over the side of the couch and stirred through the clothes on the floor, looking for my boxers. I’d almost forgotten how … energetic Arden could be, especially after we hadn’t hooked up in a while. And I did take a few hits in that alley fight, so now I was extra sore.

  Arden circled back with two beer bottles, already opened, and sat next to me as I pulled my boxers on. “Damn, I missed that,” she said as she handed me a bottle, and then took a generous swig of hers. She watched me start on mine, and then said, “Where’s the watch?”

  “Had to leave it with Golar,” I said as I settled back on the couch and let Arden snuggle up. “He needs time to poke at it, find out what makes it tick.” I smirked at my unintentional joke and swallowed cold brew. “So, did you find out anything about Cayn?”

  “Not much yet, but I’ve got feelers out. I should hear something soon.” She trailed her fingers up my thigh, making me shiver. “I hate the Collectors,” she said. “Why doesn’t the Council just ban them from the UV or something?”

  I shrugged and drained half my beer. “Who knows? Maybe they figure people should be smart enough not to sell their souls.”

  The Council was, for lack of a better word, our government. There were six members, five directly related by blood to the city’s founders, and the sixth a ‘representative’ of the people who lived here. The rep was always hand-picked by the Council and really wasn’t much more than a token, so they could pretend they cared about the people. Meanwhile, the five of them made the rules and used the Enforcers to �
� well, enforce them.

  As far the Council doing anything about the Collectors, I didn’t see that happening. They’d been here long before my time, probably before anyone on the Council was even born. And even if the city decided they weren’t welcome anymore, it wasn’t like anyone could stop them from coming. Besides, the only trouble they really caused was for the morons who gave up their souls.

  Until now. I still didn’t know what Cayn was up to, but if he’d gone rogue, I wasn’t going to be the only one with Collector problems for long.

  “Well, I think the Council should do something about them,” Arden finally said as she bent to the floor and started sorting her clothes from mine. “They’re awful. I had a friend, an acquaintance really, who sold her soul to one of them for, like, a hundred million dollars or something. She killed herself a week later.” She shuddered, stood and started dressing. “Do you know anybody who did it?”

  I smirked and took a swig of my beer. “You mean besides Dwight Osborn? No, not really.”

  “Dwight?” she said with a gasp. “What’d he get out of it?”

  “A perfect body, movie-star looks, and a big … tool,” I said. “Until the day he dies. I guess he’ll look like that when he’s ninety if he lives that long.”

  Arden giggled. “Poor guy. You know, he’s good-looking and all, but he’s really not my type.”

  She was just fastening her bra when a phone went off somewhere in the clothes. “That’s not mine,” I said, shaking my head at the obnoxious ringtone. “What is that, Justin Bieber or something?”

  “Seriously? It’s Bruno Mars,” she said as she grabbed her crumpled pants and fished her phone out. “And if you don’t like him, there’s something wrong with you. He’s adorable. Oh, I gotta take this.” She tapped the screen and stood, pacing away as she answered. “Yeah, it’s me. Did you find something?”

  I set my beer on the coffee table, then stood and stretched. Might as well not bother getting dressed the rest of the way. I wasn’t going anywhere else tonight, and I still had to summon Princess so that she could eat and stretch her legs. I’d wait until Arden left for that.

  While Arden listened intently to whoever was on the phone, I walked across the room to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the UV. My view included Casino Row with its explosion of busy neon lights, the bustling entertainment district, and the far-off darkened corner beyond it all that was the Dregs. The domed roof of the Chute stood out like a massive blister in the center of it all, with constantly shifting colors shimmering across its white surface.

  I was lost in the view when Arden cleared her throat tentatively behind me. I turned to find her biting her lip, one arm folded across her waist with her phone dangling loosely from her hand. “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “That was one of my feelers.” Her blue eyes filled with worry. “He said … well, he’s not entirely sure, but …”

  “It’s something about Cayn, isn’t it?” I said. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

  She shuddered. “He may have put out a call to everyone who’s bargained with him,” she said slowly. “Anyone who brings him the watch … gets their soul back. Plus, they get to keep whatever they sold it for.”

  A cold feeling seized my gut. The Collectors definitely weren’t allowed to screw with their own bargains once they were made. I wasn’t sure exactly how many people had sold their souls to Cayn, but any one of them would try to kill me to get that deal.

  If I didn’t figure out what was going on and put an end to this soon, someone was going to put an end to me.

  9

  “Somebody’s here!” the raven screamed when I walked into the pawn shop at nine the next morning. I followed his clumsy flight to the back desk and waited while the bird croaked out the world’s most annoying doorbell until the door behind the counter opened.

  Golar emerged with a scowl and squinted at me as he searched his pockets for a treat. He tossed the raven a half-slice of bread, and as it wheeled away, the short warlock heaved a breath. “Seth. You’re early,” he said. “Your item is not cooperating with my efforts. I don’t suppose you’d consider allowing me to keep it for another day?”

  “Not a chance.” With who knew how many desperate people after me for a chance to get their souls back, I’d need every advantage I could get. And the watch gave me a powerful advantage. “What do you mean, it’s not cooperating?” I said.

  “I mean, the origins of the item continue to elude me. What’s more …” He broke off with a sigh. “You’re sure I can’t persuade you to let me keep it.”

  I shook my head. “Gonna need it back. I’ve got bigger problems than where it came from.”

  “Very well, then. Wait here,” he said and went back through the door.

  It wasn’t long before Golar returned with a small, lacquered wooden box. He placed the box on the counter and traced a glowing sigil on the lid with his finger, and the small lock on the front popped open. “I’ll tell you what I did manage to discern,” he said as he took the roulette watch from the box and handed it to me. “When you vanish using the watch, you are actually moving through alterspace.”

  I raised an eyebrow as I fitted the watch on my wrist and closed the three clasps. “Isn’t that the dimension where the Collectors are from?”

  “It is,” he said. “The item will shift you and anything you may be holding into alterspace, for as many seconds as the result of the spin. You should also be aware that once the shift ends, it can’t be used again until the same number of minutes have passed.”

  “Okay, that kind of sucks,” I said. “So, if I spin a thirty, I get thirty seconds of invisible time, but then I can’t use the watch again for half an hour?”

  Golar nodded. “That’s correct. Also, you do not want to land on zero.”

  “Why’s that?” I said, worried about the sudden ominous note in his voice.

  “Because rather than shifting you into alterspace, a zero spin shifts something from alterspace into our dimension.” Golar paused and looked up for a second like he was searching for the right words. “It is a creature, rather like a large dog. Invisible to the naked eye to all but its target, though I did manage to catch a glimpse of the beast. I have decided to call it an alterhound.” After another pause, he added, “It ate my assistant.”

  I winced in horrified sympathy. “How did you get rid of it?”

  “I didn’t,” Golar said. “The creature returned to alterspace once it finished savaging Hrown. Now I’ll need a new revenant to assist me.”

  “Er. I’m sorry for your loss.” Hrown was probably who I’d heard screaming last night after he pushed the button he shouldn’t have pushed. “Okay, so don’t land on zero,” I said, glad that the odds were long on that happening. I only had a one in sixty chance of summoning a murderous dog from an alternate dimension who wanted to savage me. “Anything else I should know about this thing?”

  Golar gave a considering expression. “The item has an additional function,” he said slowly. “Unfortunately, I was unable to determine exactly what that function was, or how to access it. Other than the ability to shift between dimensions, the watch appears to be a combination lock of some sort.” His gaze fell on the watch face. “But I don’t know how to engage the lock function … or what it unlocks.”

  I didn’t know either, but I had a strong suspicion that this ‘other’ function was the reason Cayn wanted the watch back. And now there was no way in hell I’d let him get his hands on it so he could unlock whatever it was. “All right. Thanks, Golar,” I said.

  His hairless eyebrows lifted. “I suppose you’ll want a partial refund since I was unable to completely identify the item.”

  “Nah, we’re good,” I said. “You found out plenty. Keep the fee.” I’d also apparently cost him a revenant, and those weren’t cheap, so I figured we were even.

  “How kind of you. In that case, allow me to present you with a few bonuses,” Golar said as he ducked beneath the counter and rummaged a
round in something that clanked and rattled a lot. He came back up with a solid metal cylinder about four inches long and an inch around, with a symbol embossed at one end. “This sigil will help you to use your combat dice more effectively. If you’ll retrieve them and hold them with your hand on the counter, palm up?”

  “You’re not gonna whack me with that thing, are you?” I grinned as I grabbed the dice from my pocket and placed my hand where he said.

  He ignored the question and pressed the embossed sigil against the heel of my palm. It stung like a bitch. When he pulled the metal cylinder away, the sigil was tattooed on my skin in dark blue, shimmery ink. “Now, you can simply close your hand and touch the sigil to send the dice into alterspace, and to summon them back to your hand,” he said. “This should also work to recall the dice after you’ve rolled them, no matter where they land.”

  “Really? Let’s try it out,” I said, and curled my fingers around the dice. When I made contact with the sigil, there was a small blue flash inside my fist, and I felt the slight weight of the dice vanish. I opened my hand to make sure they were really gone. “Same thing to bring them back, right?” I said as I made a fist and touched the symbol.

  There was another flash, and the dice were in my hand again.

  “That’s one hell of a spell.” Grinning, I set the dice on the counter, stepped back and pressed my fingers on the sigil. The dice vanished and reappeared in my hand. I sent them back to alterspace and took a moment to admire my new magical tattoo.

  Then there was a whisper in my head. It’s not as nice as your other tattoo.

  “Of course, it’s not,” I reassured Princess. “You’re beautiful.”

  Golar stared and blinked. “Pardon me?”

  “Oh, sorry. I was talking to Princess,” I told him.

  “Ah. Your … tiger, isn’t it?” he said carefully, glancing around like he was worried she was going to show up. “Anyway, I have another item I believe you’ll find useful, that will work nicely with the watch.” He walked to the left, came around the counter, and dragged something from the gloomy aisles of the shop. It was a wooden chest, about four feet long and three feet tall. “Here you are.”