Aces Wilde: Immortal Vegas, Book 5

by Jenn Stark

  “Yeah, well, then you did come around, and you stayed, and he could see the value you brought to those kids. Not only with your money, although, sure, that helped. It became the currency of your relationship, the way he knew he’d be able to see you. But even that changed, right? Now you barely get out there every few weeks, and there are always more children to protect, so off you go again.”

  I stared at her. “You’re not seriously asking me to give up helping the children.”

  “Helping them, not at all. I love that you help them. It gives me hope for humanity. But you gotta be a little smarter is all.”

  She tucked her bunny-slippered feet beneath her beach cover-up, the closest she had gotten to clothing today. “What’s up with you and Armaeus?”

  I lifted my brows. “How much champagne have you had?”

  “Not nearly enough.” She kept her gaze steady on me. “He isn’t helping you anymore. He should be, but he isn’t. I don’t get it. And yeah, yeah—I know. He’s pissed because of what happened in Hell. But there’s gotta be some kind of rule for that. Like if it occurs more than ten thousand miles away or in an alternate dimension, you kinda get a pass.”

  I almost spoke but ended up shaking my head. It was simply too much.

  “See, you’re doing it again.” She laid her head back on the cushion and closed her eyes, as if she was ready to let the warm sun seep into her bones. “You never give yourself a chance to reach out, to lean on someone else for a while. But you know if you did, you might find that they were there, ready and waiting to stand in the fire for you.”

  “You stood in the fire for me today,” I said, and I watched as the smile curved her lips, her fingers going lax but somehow still managing to keep the champagne glass upright.

  “I did, dollface,” she said sleepily. “And I’d do it again. I couldn’t imagine a better person to toast my marshmallows for.”

  “Nikki, I—” But I cut off my words as her smile loosened further and her mouth fell open, the softest beginning of a snore drifting out between her lips. I watched her for a long time on that balcony, as the night drew down on the city, and I wondered what I’d ever done to deserve her.

  The next morning, I wondered how cheap I could sell her at the circus.

  “Coming through, coming through!” Nikki bellowed, sticking her head out the window and pumping the horn. She’d woken miraculously without a hangover, hungry enough to eat a bear—or at least a couple of bear claws, but we’d barely had time to grab coffee before the summons to Soo’s home had finally come. Then getting ready had taken all the rest of the morning, and now we were fashionably late to our own party.

  Nikki had dressed to impress, but that didn’t stop her from screeching again as traffic slowed to a crawl. Her motif today was stilettoed superspy, with her black sheath dress and sharply angled white collar the perfect foil to her glittering silver-toed black heels and deep red hair slicked back into a severe chignon. Since everything at Soo’s mansion was available via speed dial, she’d insisted we bring in stylists for further consultation, and her fingers now sported a deep red-black polish that would have made Dracula proud.

  By the time we reached the Soo estate by Lake Las Vegas, Nikki’d shut up. But only because it seemed like we were in line for Disney World.

  “Did something happen?” Nikki asked, drumming her fingers on the wheel. “Did I somehow miss the jaws of life passing by? I’ve never seen traffic this bad out here. Swear to God, if it’s some sort of fender bender and my mousse gives out, there will be hell to pay.”

  “I’m sure it’ll clear up soon,” I said, peering over the dash.

  It didn’t, though. We’d crept forward another ten minutes when a motorcycle zipped by us going east—then flipped around and changed direction, coming up fast on our left.

  “I so am not in the mood to hospitalize someone today,” Nikki said as I craned around.

  “I think it’s one of Soo’s,” I said. Nikki begrudgingly lowered the window, letting in a blast of desert heat.

  The motorcyclist flipped up her helmet, and a serene face I didn’t recognize beamed at us from a cocoon of plastic and leather. “Madam Wilde! Get out of line and come on up!” she shouted, gesturing ahead. “We’ll block traffic. And one of you should turn on your phone.”

  She sped ahead, and I pawed for my phone—couldn’t find it. Nikki didn’t waste any time, however. She pulled out of the line, racing forward. A chorus of beeping horns immediately erupted, and I cringed in my seat as windows rolled down. “Uh-oh, I think we’ve upset the natives.”

  “Think again, babe.” Nikki grinned. She nodded at the cars farther ahead, and the windows were down, arms sticking out—and hands gripping swords of all descriptions.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” I stared, and Nikki spent the next ten minutes cackling as we reached the front of the line and darted around the remaining traffic into Soo’s home, cars already lining the long and winding drive. A stretch of desert had been converted into a makeshift parking lot, and I stared as we passed it, the workers picking up the jubilation at our passing and waving furiously at me. Dumbstruck, I waved back. “Is Jiao holding an auction or something?”

  “I think we now know the reason why she made us wait a day,” Nikki said dryly.

  We parked directly opposite the front door to Soo’s western-style mansion, and Jiao stood in her crisp suit, the young motorcyclist now beside her. They bowed as Nikki and I exited the SUV, my sword secure at my side.

  “Your phones?” was Jiao’s only rebuke.

  “Didn’t match our outfits,” Nikki said succinctly. “Sorry for the delay, but we didn’t realize you’d put out the call for reinforcements.”

  “We didn’t,” Jiao said. “It appears that a truncated version of your fight with General Som was beamed directly into the computers of every Sword household that had the technology to support it. And those without the technology received visions, even dreams.”

  “They what?”

  She gazed at me, taking in my startled expression. “Not your doing?”

  I frowned. “That would be negative.”

  Nikki for her part looked equally bemused. “I hope you cut the part of me getting my ass handed to me,” she grumbled, and Jiao’s face creased in a slight smile.

  “You’ll be pleased with the outcome, I think,” she said. “This”—she waved to the cars behind us, and the steady flow of people walking down the rolling bank—“is the result of that video feed. It would appear your people are here to see you take your rightful position, Madam Wilde.”

  “About that—” I began, but Jiao lifted a hand.

  “No matter what you decide, you have brought great honor to our House,” she said. Her eyes were strangely bright, and I blinked, taken aback by the show of emotion. “Madam Soo would have been very proud.”

  Her attendant lifted her hand to her ear, her gaze fixing on Jiao. “We are almost ready. The grotto has been set up. By the time the ceremony is concluded, all the attendees should be in place. You’ll go through the archway to the overlook and can address them there.”

  “Very well.” Jiao gestured us forward.

  Nikki and I followed her inside, our heels clicking on the Spanish tile. I’d foregone my usual hoodie and jeans for a black pantsuit and boots, not all that dissimilar from what I had seen Soo wear. It wasn’t my choosing, exactly—it had shown up at the Summerlin mansion along with Nikki’s clothes, courtesy, I assumed, of the Council. The neckline certainly seemed redolent of Kreios, since it plunged down to my sternum and angled wide. There was no missing the artful beauty of Soo’s double pendant necklace across my collarbone, however, and the effect seemed to satisfy Jiao.

  We entered the grotto, and once again I was struck by the idyll Soo had created, an oasis in the middle of the desert. Had she known that she would not be around to enjoy it for much longer when she’d purchased this home?

  “Madam Wilde.” The voice that startled me was Ma-Singh’s
. He stood in dark fighting gear, but the uniform seemed more formal, almost ceremonial, down to the white Samurai sword at his belt.

  The other generals wore similar swords, symbols of their service to the leader of the House. They murmured their greetings to me deferentially. No one mentioned General Som.

  I nodded to Ma-Singh and stepped forward into the center of the small gathering of Jiao, the generals and staffers, who stood like silent sentinels in the back of the space. There was no sound but that of the water bubbling in several basins, and I took the sword from my side—not in preparation to do war this time, but to end it.

  Eventually.

  “I will take the leadership of the House of Swords,” I said quietly. “But I am not Annika Soo. Her ways are not my ways. Instead, I choose to ensure our House is strong from Ace to King. I choose Madam Peng to manage its operations.” I turned in her direction. “If you would be willing.”

  “I serve the House of Swords,” she said, bowing with her gaze upon the floor. I waited until she straightened, and met her eyes. There was no emotion there, but there didn’t need to be. This was the right decision. I had assumed Jiao’s guilt since the first time I’d met her, so certain that Soo had passed over her aunt deliberately.

  She had, but I didn’t realize the reason why. Hadn’t realized it until I’d stared into the face of General Som.

  “Madam Soo did not want you to die at the head of a warring household. She feared for your safety, after she had already lost so much. You must pledge you will stay safe.”

  “I will,” she murmured, and I nodded. Jiao knew all there was to know about the House’s operation, and she would serve Soo’s legacy well. I had different battles to fight.

  But here again, not the traditional ones.

  “General Ma-Singh.” I turned to him and held out the Honjo Masamune, smiling to ease the incredible disappointment in his face. “There are swords that are meant for ceremonies and those meant for war. The Honjo is most at home in the hands of a true warrior. I will not damage your ranks by fighting with a blade among you. For that, I call upon the elite generals and their warriors. I choose you to fight as the head of that branch, if you would be willing.”

  He stared at me, unspeaking for a long moment. “You will not fight for the House,” he rumbled, as close to a rebuke as he could manage in such a formal setting.

  I shook my head. “I will not fight with a sword of steel and bone, no,” I said. “That doesn’t mean I will not fight. And it doesn’t mean I won’t lead you.”

  I lifted the Honjo Masamune higher, until he reluctantly stepped forward. Then, drawing on Armaeus’s pool of dark magic, I sent a crackle of energy along the blade, setting it alight. The entire assembly froze, arrested by the vision.

  I looked around the room. “You who have served Soo so long and so well, among you is the future of this House. Your hearts and minds will be tested in the coming battle. To win that battle, we much each do what we do best. Even me.”

  I lifted my left hand and drew upon the magic that still roiled within me just beneath the surface. This power wasn’t mine, truly, but I would draw upon it for this gesture to solidify the House of Swords. Even endless darkness could be used for good…if only for a short while.

  A set of crystal blades formed above my fingers. They spun as the generals stiffened, their eyes fixed on the illusion. The blades grew, dipped and lengthened, until a matrix of spinning swords twisted around me. With another flick of my hand, the swords plunged into the ground around our company, twelve black blades with silver hilts. I bowed to the generals’ startled stares. “Take all the blades but one, and assign them to your most trusted people, a symbol of what’s to come,” I said. “We begin to build the army of the House of Swords this day.”

  I pulled the nearest sword and held it out before me, inspecting the long sliver of white that curled down the black metal weapon, glinting with power. It was so much cooler than what I’d imagined in my mind. Infinitely more badass. I couldn’t believe I’d created it at all, but then—the Magician’s dark magic was still coursing through me. Of course I could create something so epically beautiful, with power like that.

  I nodded, clearing my mind once more. “There’s only one thing left now.”

  Nikki turned first, ready to precede me through the archway to the overlook, but I stopped her. “Nikki,” I said. “This is for you.”

  She stopped, confused, so I took the extra steps forward. “I couldn’t imagine going anywhere in this war without knowing you were by my side. If you want to become an Ace, the position is yours. If Nigel is willing to show you the ropes.”

  The amused, sardonic response with a perfect British inflection was immediate. “I think something can be arranged.”

  “Sara—” Nikki screwed her face up in confusion, looking from me to the sword. “I don’t understand.”

  “As an Ace, you’ll have the right to serve any House, pitching your services to the highest bidder.” I gave her a crooked smile. “Naturally, I plan to bid high.”

  “An Ace.” Nikki reached out and took the sword from me, hefting it experimentally. “I could be an Ace.” She looked up at me with bright eyes, the tears that stood behind them the first intense emotion I’d ever seen her reveal. “It matches my outfit too. I appreciate that.”

  “Madam Wilde.” Jiao stood at the archway, lifting a hand. “If you are ready.”

  I nodded, gesturing that the generals and Jiao precede. They filed out, and a roar filled the valley—one that only strengthened as I stepped onto the stone overlook and greeted, for the first time, the combined assemblage of the House of Swords.

  I would let Jiao manage the House, and I would let Ma-Singh defend it.

  But I would lead the House of Swords, for Soo.

  For its people.

  And for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “She know you’re here?”

  I leaned against the countertop, paging through the flash tattoos in one of the enormous books that lined the lobby shelves of Darkworks Ink. The voice didn’t belong to Jimmy Shadow, the manager of this place. It was a woman’s voice, and it didn’t sound like its owner was surprised to see me.

  “Nope,” I said, not looking up.

  “She’ll be pissed when she figures it out.”

  “Maybe.” I finally glanced up and took in Death, from her half-shaved white-blonde hair to her shit kicker boots. In between were mile-long legs poured into ripped jeans, a muscle shirt, and one arm completely tatted in a complex tumble of images and designs, so thick and vibrant it made me hurt to look at it. But I eventually couldn’t avoid Death’s cold blue stare, and I met it steadily. “I doubt she’ll figure it out, though, unless I show up when she’s not expecting me. And at that point, she’ll probably need my help to stay alive more than she’ll need to stay mad.” Nikki was practical that way.

  Death shrugged. “Your funeral.”

  Which, coming from the incarnation of Death on the Arcana Council, wasn’t the most comforting of responses.

  Nevertheless, she crooked her finger and directed me to follow her to the back, where the familiar sight of the long, utilitarian hallway greeted me. Death directed me to the third room on the right, the illusion of it being another ordinary tattoo station evaporating as we stepped inside. Instead of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases stuffed with books and magazines and bric-a-brac, there was nothing but cold concrete walls and floor, the chair, and Death’s rolling cart of tattoo implements. I grimaced. At least she’d held off on displaying a drain in the floor.

  “Where?” she asked, hooking her foot around her rolling stool and bringing it underneath her. As she sat, I got into the chair. I’d been inked twice by Death so far. The first, to find Atlantis. The second, to find my way to an alternate dimension, where demons roamed and the children who’d started me down my shadowed path were trapped. But this mark was different. This was an acknowledgment of a bond I hoped would never be tested, but which I
’d never willingly break.

  “You tell me,” I said. “I have to be able to find Nikki, no matter where she is, in this world or any other. If she’s in danger, real danger, the kind she can’t get out of, I need to know.”

  “Left arm,” Death said, rolling her chair around to my other side. “The right is rationality. The left is emotion. If you want a link to know her true thoughts, gotta go with left. Of course, the leftward path is open more to interpretation, but probably not something you’ll mind. If she’s in danger, the nuances of it aren’t really so important.”

  “Then the left it is.” I nodded. She poked through the bottles on her cart, the needles, and I busied myself with looking in the opposite direction. When the tattoo gun buzzed and she leaned forward, I gripped the chair with my right hand, forcing my left to stay still.

  “You did a good thing with the House,” Death said, the quiet words so surprising that I blinked back at her, wincing at the sight of my own blood.

  “I didn’t think you cared about that.”

  “Why not? Because I didn’t show at Armaeus’s meet up?” Death twisted her lips, inking another heavy line into my skin. “He doesn’t call us all together for consensus building. The others don’t realize it, but I’ve been around other Magicians like him. I know how he works.”

  I frowned, remembering again that, unlike Eshe and Viktor and even Kreios, I didn’t know when, exactly, Death had joined the Arcana Council. What had been the circumstances of her ascension? And why would she choose Death, of all roles? It seemed rude to ask her, considering she was plunging a needle into my arm, so I went for the safer choice. “And how does he work?”

  “Energy—all energy. That’s what makes up balance, and that’s his stock-in-trade. When all the Council members are assembled, there’s a certain amount of energy he can draw from it, the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. That extra bit between the parts and the whole is his playground. That’s one part of it.”

  I couldn’t help the sense of rightness I felt at hearing Death’s words. Armaeus was energy, and I suspected, he was specifically dark energy. I’d just never known how much…perhaps still didn’t truly know.