The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection)

by A. C. Nicholls

  I followed her directions and took off down a hallway, shooting Jason a wink as I rounded the corner. Hopefully he would keep her busy while I snooped around. But I didn’t have to go far – a suspicious character exited a room and stopped right in front of me.

  “Oh, my apologies,” he said, trying to get around me.

  I tried to catch a glimpse of his nametag as he passed, and could have sworn it’d said Manager. Of course, it was possible that I had misread it – he came across as far too scruffy to work in an establishment like this, much less be the man in charge. But I guess his messy gray hair meant nothing, because as I scanned down his body, I saw a pressed suit with gold cufflinks.

  Against my better judgment, I decided to go out on a whim by calling: “Mr. Lincoln.”

  To my surprise, the man stopped walking and looked over his shoulder at me. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, and then his eyes scrutinized me, taking in my cheap but professional appearance. If he thought I was a cop, his reaction told me he was crooked.

  But then the strangest thing happened.

  He dropped his book to the floor, and turned to run down the corridor.

  Lucky for me, he was as slow as he was old. I caught up to him quickly, groping his shoulder and pushing him against a nearby wall. Scaring the elderly wasn’t my best move, but sometimes the extreme was necessary. “I need to talk to you.”

  The man squirmed in front of me, shutting his eyes tight and knocking his head from side to side. “Please, I don’t want any part of it. Just take whatever else you need and leave me alone. I won’t tell anyone!”

  What the hell is he talking about?

  I tried to play along, squeezing information out of him without letting on that I knew nothing. I leaned in close, letting my heavy breath intimidate him. “My boss sent me to find out how many there were.”

  “H-How many what?” he asked, finally opening his eyes.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Lincoln. How many vampires died in this place?”

  “What? I-I don’t know.”

  For a split second, I thought he truly knew nothing about magic or vampires. There was even room for the plausibility that we had the wrong hotel, and boy, would that embarrass me. But when I let him go and he sagged to the marble floor, wheezing, he said something that simply blew me away.

  “It was a lot, all right?” His weak voice shook and his frail hands trembled as he held them out in surrender. Never had a man looked more spooked. “But that one man – the magician with the purple card – he walked away from it all with a smile on his face.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  This old man knew something, and I wasn’t about to let him run away. Beside us was a door, and although I had no idea where it led to, I shoved him inside while trying not to be too rough. I needed answers, but I wasn’t a bully.

  The door slammed shut as we entered a long, classy dining room with circular tables positioned symmetrically throughout. Soft dinner music echoed gently from speakers at the far end, while everything else gleamed and glittered. I was starting to see how this hotel managed to keep its doors open.

  I helped Mr. Lincoln to his feet, made sure he was okay, then pulled out a chair for him to sit in. It was partially for my own benefit – I was more likely to intimidate if I towered over him with my questions.

  “Tell me more about this magician,” I said, perching my butt on the edge of a table.

  Lincoln slowly recovered his breath, planting his hands on his knees as he leaned into them. “Oh yes, yes,” he said, while his chins shook like jelly. “The man with all the magic.”

  The door swung open, startling us both, but I relaxed when I saw Jason enter the room. He pushed the door closed and leaned into the doorframe, hands stuffed into his pockets.

  “W-Who is this?” Mr. Lincoln asked.

  “My partner,” I said sharply. “Never mind him. Tell me what happened.”

  Mr. Lincoln buried his face in his hands. “What can I say? They hired out the function room – the vampires did – and we were hosting a ceremony for them.”

  “What kind of ceremony?”

  “I couldn’t tell you. Their representative requested that we only set up some food and then wait outside the door should we be needed. But I heard… I heard a lot of bizarre noises from the other side of that door. A lot of… chanting.” Mr. Lincoln rubbed his eyes, clearly summoning a bad memory. It almost made me feel bad for him.

  “And the magician? Tell me what he looked like.”

  “Uh… Perhaps six-feet tall.” He demonstrated with a quivering hand. “Late-fifties. Only a little hair on top and… those eyes – bright blue. Sparkling, in fact. Something looked cruel about him. From the moment I laid eyes on him, I knew that there was something sinister going on inside his head.”

  Those old feelings of dread resurfaced. I shot a look to Jason and nodded my head, getting a nod in return. It was our way of confirming that this magician – sparkle-eyed and sinister – fit the description of Victor Kronin.

  “This banquet room was where the murders took place?”

  Lincoln sat back then, and looked desperately into my eyes. “M-Murders? No, miss. These weren’t murders – it was a massacre with glowing light. I would have called it a war, had the vampires had a chance to fight back.”

  Massacre? Glowing light? I’d heard enough.

  “Take us to the room,” I demanded.

  “Please don’t make me go back in there.”

  I flashed my police badge. He was seeing it for the first time, and although I couldn’t be sure if he believed I was a cop, he believed enough to know that we weren’t your normal, everyday people. “Do you want to get charged with obstruction of justice? Take us to the banquet room, and do it quickly.”

  Mr. Lincoln stood and fumbled with the keychain hooked onto his belt loop. The metal rattled and clanged as his shaking hands struggled to pick out the correct key. When he found it and slipped it off the chain, he hurried out into the corridor.

  Jason and I followed closely behind him, keeping a watchful eye on him to ensure that he didn’t try to get away. He was certainly the type, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d tried. At the end of the day, he was just another unsuspecting mortal, suckered into witnessing a conflict between two creatures of the underworld. He was as much a victim as the vampires were.

  “This the manager?” Jason asked in a hushed whisper as we ascended the stairs.

  I nodded. “How did you get past the receptionist?”

  “Just… charm.”

  “You charmed her?”

  “Well, I don’t know how you would say it, but yes, I charmed her.”

  Shaking the image of him leaning into the receptionist’s ear, I continued to follow in silence until we came to a stop on the top floor, by a large double door. There was a pane of glass in each one, but they were both covered with patches of foil tape.

  “This is it,” Mr. Lincoln said, sliding the key into the lock after three shaky attempts.

  My heart raced, sending a rush of blood to my head as he put a hand on the doorknob. “Wait,” I said, and tried to make it seem as if it were more for his wellbeing than my own fear. “I won’t make you go in here, but could you do us a favor?”

  Mr. Lincoln looked confused as well as nervous. “Yes?”

  “Go and grab your ledger. I want to know the name of the person who rented this room.” I knew that it would probably be Edgar George, but if it kept Mr. Lincoln from guiding our tour, I didn’t mind sending him on that errand.

  As he hurried down the corridor without looking back, I sucked in a large breath and prepared to open the door. Although it might have shocked some people, I actually felt uneasy at the sight of blood, and who knew just how much of it was inside the room?

  The lock clicked and the door swung open with a creak. Jason fell in step beside me and flicked on the light switch. The bulbs flickered on slowly throughout the room, teasing me – torturing me – wit
h their slow reveal of the murder scene.

  “Jesus,” Jason said, taking a shy step forward.

  I, too, couldn’t believe my own eyes.

  The drapes were closed but they floated away from the breeze of the broken windows. Tables were upturned and some were missing legs. Glasses and plates had been smashed into thousands of tiny pieces, scattered across the room as if a bomb had gone off in here. The blood I had expected to see? Absent. But in it’s place; scattered ashes.

  “They weren’t just killed,” Jason said under his breath. “They were incinerated.”

  I knew the power of the Chaos card, and I knew it well. The purple light it emitted was not of the earthly elements. It burned hotter than fire, blew stronger than wind, singed sharper than lightning. I imagined the vampires running for their lives, blinded by the bright light as their friends and family burned alive around them.

  “Are you okay?” Jason asked, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see any more. As much as I hated vampires, it scared me to think that Victor could slaughter so many of them so easily, and still be so cavalier about it. I wondered how he had known that the vampires would all be gathered in one place – how he had anticipated the moves of his targets, his training dummies.

  Had he arranged this meeting?

  “Miss?” I jumped as a voice rang out behind me.

  I turned to see Mr. Lincoln holding out a red ledger with his face turned away from the horrific scene. “I’ve slid the bookmark into the correct page. Everything you need is right there, so please make use of it and then leave us alone.”

  “Thanks.” I took the book and returned to the corridor, mildly aware that Jason was closing the doors behind us. When I spread open the pages, my eyes dropped straight to the bottom of the register. There was a name here, but it wasn’t Victor’s. “Jack Hughes?”

  “The banquet hall was reserved under that name,” Mr. Lincoln said. “Go to the back page for the billing address.”

  I flicked through and found it. Jack Hughes was also the name on the invoice, which included an address for a place in Avondale. We’d have to drive there next, and this time I’d be more prepared.

  “Happy?” Jason asked, tapping me on the shoulder and walking on.

  “I wouldn’t use those words, but yeah.” I closed the ledger and placed it into Mr. Lincoln’s hands. “Listen, I’m sorry I was so rough with you, but I had to see this room. If any of my colleagues come back here, try not to mention magic. You’ll end up in a straightjacket.”

  “Please,” Mr. Lincoln scoffed. “They’ve already threatened so much.”

  I stopped. “What do you mean?”

  He shook his head. “After the incident, I called for the police and had them come out here. I told them what I saw – the magician killing those vampires – and they passed it off as an insurance fraud attempt. They said they would let me off with a warning.”

  Of course, it made perfect sense. When the police had come to find nothing more than a room full of ash and broken tableware, why would they believe a supposedly crazy story about mythical creatures. I knew how dismissive mortals were of anything they didn’t understand. Without concrete proof, they thought we were things of dreams and literature. Not to mention that Hollywood had bitten us in the ass for over fifty years. “Consider yourself lucky. You don’t want people knowing that you were a witness – believe me.”

  Mr. Lincoln shook his head in unwilling acceptance.

  “Take care, Mr. Lincoln.” I rushed down the corridor toward the stairwell, where Jason stood waiting for me. Now that we had the address of the man who’d booked this event, I couldn’t help but wonder who the hell Jack Hughes really was. I didn’t want to tell Jason, just in case I was wrong, but something about this seemed awfully familiar.

  Jack Hughes, I thought as we headed down the stairs in a hurry. I know the name.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I wanted to check out the address so bad, it was all I could think about. Jason had spoken to me a couple of times throughout the car journey, and although I heard his voice, Jack Hughes consumed my mental attention. His name drummed through my head like a song lyric that I just couldn’t seem to forget.

  Where have I heard of him before?

  It was driving me crazy. I considered that it could have just been one of those names that sounded so-so. Like John Smith or Jane Doe. I guessed that if the name meant anything significant, I would have remembered him by now.

  Jason stopped the car outside my apartment block, pulling onto the side of the road while the engine purred. I didn’t understand – I’d thought he was driving me to Jack Hughes’ place.

  “I’m glad you found something you could use,” he said, as if nothing was wrong.

  I had no intention of getting out just yet. “You’re not coming with me?”

  “Oh…”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, waiting for some bullshit response that would ignite my anger. My passive aggressive rancor became an exercise in futility, because Jason had no idea he’d upset me. It seemed as though he was genuinely unaware of my surprise. “I thought we were teaming up.”

  “Ah.” He killed the engine. “I was just giving you a helping hand. Lena instructed me not to help you at all, actually. I’m risking my ass just by being here. But I thought… I don’t know. I guess I thought giving you a ride to the hotel wouldn’t be entirely unreasonable.”

  I couldn’t believe my own ears. Just when I’d thought we were bonding, he pulled the rug right out from under me, making me face-plant the floor. “And I appreciate that. I really do. But would it kill you to come just a little further and check out this address with me? I might need the backup.”

  “You think I don’t want to help? Victor Kronin killed my brother. There’s nothing I want more than his head on a stake. But it’s forbidden to work together. You don’t understand how important it is that we obey that rule.”

  “I’m sorry; I just don’t get it.”

  Jason sat in silence, looking dead ahead up the desolate street. There was only one car parked at the curb, and a few pedestrians. Jason nodded at one of them. A mountain of a man in a long trench coat, who stood in a doorway and stared at us with an unwavering gaze.

  “Who… is that?” I asked, a little unsettled.

  “Another werewolf. Lena sent him to watch me.”

  I shook my head. “This is ridiculous,” I said, as I climbed out to slam the door behind me. As I hurried to the front door, I rummaged through my bag for my keys, hoping that perhaps Jason would seize an opportunity to chase after me and apologize. But then I heard the engine roar to life, and turned in time to see him drive up the street. It was my own fault, really. Who was I kidding, thinking that a Cardkeeper and a werewolf could become close?

  When I got inside, I slammed the door and stormed up the stairs. Jack Hughes could damn well wait until tomorrow. All I wanted to do now was check on Link, and then curl up to watch a couple of movies. Junk food would help, too. I felt like I deserved at least that much, after my string of crappy days.

  At least I had a smiling, wingless faery waiting for me when I entered my dusty old apartment. I slung my purse onto the floor and went to him, dropping onto the couch beside him as he stared at the blank TV screen.

  “You okay?” I asked, slipping an arm around him like he was a child. My child.

  “No. The sodding TV broke. Right in the middle of Oprah, too.”

  I tried to stifle my laugh at the fact that this middle-aged British male enjoyed Oprah. “They’re just repeats anyway. You can find them all over YouTube.”

  Link grunted. “If you paid for the bloody Internet, I could. Your stack of bills is taller than me, for crying out loud.” He waved a hand at the TV, and then stood up to stretch. “So, what happened?”

  “Long story,” I told him, doing my damndest to ignore that last comment. I don’t think he knew how expensive it was to live. “But I need
to visit someone named Jack–”

  A heavy pounding on the door interrupted my sentence. What the hell? I never had visitors. Even Link dove to hide behind a cushion, poking his head out to watch me conjure some fire into my hand.

  Burning palm at the ready, I crossed the living room on tip-toes and peered through the peephole. All I could see was an ear, surrounded by short, dark hair. It wasn’t enough to go on, and I didn’t want to just open my door to a stranger. Not after the enemies I had made recently. “Who is it?”

  A trickle of excitement flowed through me when I recognized the voice.

  “It’s Jason,” he said through the wood.

  Euphoria enveloped me, just like a little girl getting that love letter from her crush. Being asked to prom by the soon-to-be homecoming king. The fact that he had come back after what he’d said made me feel important to him. Or maybe it was more than that.

  I hid my cheesy grin and clapped the naked flame out of my hands, then popped open the door and stared. The blood rushed through me, my heart thumping heavily against my ribs as I met his serious gaze.

  “How did you know which door to knock on?” I asked.

  “I didn’t. This was my fourth try. Look, can we talk?”

  “Oh. Uh… sure.”

  There was a stir behind me – Link climbing onto the back of the couch. “Oh, hello Beethoven,” he said, blunt as usual. “Well, Keira? Invite him in and put a bowl of food down for him. Let’s not be rude.”

  I felt embarrassed, to say the least. “Sorry, can we talk outside?”

  Jason nodded.

  “Woof,” Link teased, just as I closed the door.

  I would be sure to grill him for that later.

  “Look, I shouldn’t be doing this,” Jason said, looking down at his feet while he paced the creaking floorboards. He held a hand to his head, as if to caress a migraine. “I want to be honest with you, but I know the harm in it.”

  I leaned back to the door and clicked it shut, sealing our privacy. “Doing what? What’s going on? Are you okay? You look like you could use a glass of–”