Stolen Chaos: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Cardkeeper Chronicles Book 1)

by A. C. Nicholls

  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 – with 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 19

  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–”

  Jason cut me off right then, scooping me into his arms. He leaned in to kiss me, the strong aromatic blend of dog hair and Hugo Boss confusing my senses. I suddenly felt as though I had one over on the receptionist of Hale’s Hotel.

  Taken by the shock of it all, I kissed him back, exploring his mouth with my tongue as he raked his fingers through my hair. Shivers pulsed through me like electric shocks, kick-starting my heart. It felt like this was all a dream somehow, and I would wake from it at any minute… but I didn’t want to.

  Jason pulled away, and I opened my eyes to see him looking sad. His hands slid down to my hips, holding me close to his muscled body. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

  “No, I–”

  “I like you, Keira. I’ve liked you since the moment you first shot fire into my face. But I can’t act on it. For a werewolf to have relations with a mage, special exceptions would have to be made. Otherwise it could mean my death.”

  I stepped back, breaking his grip. “Then why come back here?”

  “Because I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.” Sighing, he went back to the top of the stairs, looking back at me. Anger coursed through my veins. But so did regret, because I understood why he’d had to do it. I couldn’t forgive him, but giving him a hard time about it wouldn’t stop the uncomfortable emotions. “I just thought that you should know.”

  Standing in stunned silence, I watched him rush down the stairs. The door slammed on the ground floor, and just like that, we were apart again. I found myself wondering just how long it would be until I saw him again – if I would see him again. It would take a miracle and a lot of strong magic to get through Victor Kronin, and I had no idea if there was a way around the werewolves’ rule.

  As tears pricked the back of my eyes, I turned to go back inside.

  Chapter 20

  By the time the sun had risen to sweep bright pink across the sky, I stood on the graveled driveway to Jack Hughes’ place. The house, a tattered little bungalow, looked like it had been forgotten in time. Abandoned. The windows were sealed shut with sheets of wood. Graffiti colored the faded white walls of the exterior, and trash littered the small, grass-barren lawn.

  Link, who had only agreed to come with his usual amount of reluctance, poked his head out the flap of my purse, sniffing at the air as he waved a hand around in front of his tiny nose. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  “Positive.”

  “Then, perhaps, take a look inside?”

  Squatters might be living in the ramshackle place, but I still had to check. At least I had my magicard to protect me, and my immortal strength could best any human.

  I scanned the area, making sure no one watched me and grasped the doorknob, letting the heat exchange into it. When the brass melted and oozed into smoking oil, there was a clanging sound and the door loosened. I was beginning to get the hang of this power – the distance I had taken from the magicard had helped ease me into it. I couldn’t be certain, but I might have passed the point where the soul’s influence could harm me.

  Link dropped back into my purse, steering clear of potential danger while I walked inside and closed the door behind me. The front door opened into one small and dark living room, with little furniture or possessions, and only a mountain of unopened mail by my feet. I pulled the door open again, letting a little light into the otherwise blacked-out room.

  “I think it’s safe,” I told Link, venturing deeper into the room.

  By the looks of things, no one had been here in weeks. Usually a sleeping bag or cardboard bed would be a telltale sign of recent squatters, but there wasn’t a single thing in sight. With the exception of a torn and battered armchair, that was.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Link said, climbing onto my leg and sliding down it like a fireman’s pole. “This Jack Hughes, he has money?”

  I nodded my head. “He had the money to book out the banquet room for a murder spree. The bank seems to recognize the address, too.” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, attempting to gain a fresh perspective. “Something is missing.”

  “You’re right.”

  Frozen in thought, I watched Link traipse across the room, checking out the little details such as the power socket dangling from one rusty screw, and a crinkled Wendy’s burger wrapper. When he put his hands on his hips and huffed, he looked as lost as I felt.

  Desperate for answers, I tried the door on the far wall. It hung open on one hinge, leaning into a kitchen that was too small to be of use to anyone. The counter-tops were pasted with spoiled food, where flies and rats made themselves at home. “Gross.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This place is…” It hit me so suddenly that I no longer cared about my surroundings. It was a wonder I hadn’t noticed it until now, but now that I had, I couldn’t shake it off. It was burned into my senses, just like the bad smell had been until this moment.

  “… Is what?” Link asked, shaking his head.

  I looked back onto the living room, sniffing at the air. Something hung suspended in the dank air – something magic. But it wasn’t your usual shape-shifting or blast of fire. No, this was something different. Something functional. Like a wall had been put up, and I could only pass through it if I knew what to look for.

  My hands came out in front of me, and I felt around the air like a mime. The hunch became stronger as I stepped forward, closer, until my palms met with a tickling sensation that
felt like pins and needles against my skin. “It’s a veil.”

  Link frowned, wrinkles folding up his forehead. “A what?”

  Curiosity got the better of me, and I took another step. My skin became cooler, as if I’d walked into a giant refrigerator. My face was next, the cold air touching my nose, and then my cheeks as I walked through the veil and stepped into an alternate version of the bungalow, leaving Link and the rats behind me.

  “Holy cow.”

  It was as if the neighbor’s house has been lifted and deposited on the Hughes lot. A healthy yellow glow lit the room and a burning fireplace warmed my legs as I passed it. There was a bookcase with every shelf filled to the ends, a liquor cabinet with a range of vintage wines. I examined the desk, where page after page of written incantations had been scribbled out with a quill and ink.

  Behind me, a thin, circular sheet of air balanced in the middle of the room. If I looked through it, I could see the previous place where Link stood on the other side, looking around for me as though I had vanished into thin air, but looking around reflected the exact opposite. It was like Hughes had bought a terrible home at a cheap rate, and then decorated within another realm, so as to avoid being disturbed.

  How clever.

  But even clever people couldn’t hide forever. Jack Hughes had helped orchestrate a massacre by gathering the vampires in one place, and I was inside his vacant home. I had to reveal his identity and how his piece fit into the puzzle. I hunted high and low, rifling through his every possession until I found… well, nothing.

  Until I found it.

  I lifted the photograph from the drawer and felt my blood boiling as I stared at the man. I felt dizzy, like when you get off a fast ride. I knew the man in the picture. Stunned, I stared at the sly, sleaze ball of a man, all decked out in his fishing gear and holding a bass.