Wild Card (Etudes in C# Book 1)

by Jamie Wyman

“You’re…you’re impotent,” I said softly.

  Marius’s eyes flashed with ferocity. “Impotent? You think a god with infinite imagination would stop at merely rendering a satyr impotent?”

  I swallowed a lump of shame. Had I really needed to know this? Had it been worth putting him through this humiliation?

  He sighed with resignation. “I feel no pleasure,” he said, voice quiet but hard.

  “None?”

  “Oh, sure, I can get a good laugh out of watching you make an idiot of yourself, but that hardly counts for much, does it?”

  “None?” I asked again, this time amazed. “So, you can’t have sex?”

  “Certainly not for lack of desire,” he snapped. “And, if you must know, it doesn’t stop there. That lovely sense of intoxication you were floating on earlier in the evening? Restricted. The feeling you get after a damn good meal? Off limits. I can’t so much as enjoy a cool breeze on a hot day. Which, by the way, makes summers here murder.”

  I took a moment to wrap my head around that concept. No pleasure? From what I’d learned, pleasure flowed through a satyr’s veins like lifeblood. Sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll were the appetizers on this creature’s menu. To not feel any of it? To take no joy whatsoever from life?

  And worse, Eris chained him to Las Vegas! Pleasure hawks itself on every street corner, and when one well runs dry there’s always another show or club.

  Now, after all this time of working with Marius, I understood the hold Eris had over him. I longed for my freedom, and I’d been in service to the goddess for less than a decade. The promise of being able to feel fulfilled once again? She may as well lock up his soul, too.

  For the first time, I felt well and truly sorry for Marius.

  “How long has it been?” I asked.

  His stare darkened. “Does it matter?”

  “I suppose not.” I pondered his situation a bit more. “Okay, so if you can’t follow through, why act the playboy? Why the thing in the elevator and the head game back at my apartment?”

  “It’s hardly public knowledge that I can’t—” Frustrated, he dragged his hands over his goatee. “Look, I have a reputation to maintain. A little bit of magic, a kiss or two, a little over and under, and I can make anyone believe that I’m the best shag they’ll ever have. If Eris decides to lift my curse tomorrow, I’m already set up for business. No one need know anything to the contrary.”

  My stomach twisted at the thought of this sad imitation of joy his life had become.

  Then, I blurted, “You mean you can’t even rub one out? No wonder you’re such a snarky bastard.”

  “Oh, do shut up!”

  “Sorry, Marius. I wasn’t trying to get a rise out of you.” That time I snickered.

  He raised his brow then grinned mirthlessly. “I’m so glad she wagered your soul in the game. Having to deal with you now that you know would be insufferable.”

  Shit. I’d gotten so swept up in deciphering Marius, that I’d almost forgotten my larger problem.

  I glanced around the office. “There’s got to be something here that can tell us where to find the other gods.”

  “What? You think the Lady keeps a Rolodex with the addresses of her poker buddies?” He snorted and let out a wheeze of laughter. “I thought you were supposed to be intelligent.”

  I turned away from Marius and stopped short. My breath caught in my chest as I gazed out the window at the panoramic view of Las Vegas. A shadow passed over the city, a black hole floating over the dazzling splendor. At first, I thought an airplane was coming in low on its descent into McCarran Airport. That idea evaporated when the shadow banked sharply and came about. A massive bird, black as tar, spread its wings and glided north toward Eris’s penthouse windows.

  Toward me.

  Cold dread slipped down my spine and into my already weak knees. Without taking my eyes off of the inky shape, I backed away from the windows and reached out for Marius’s arm.

  “Come on,” I said. “We need to get out of here.”

  “What is it?”

  “There’s something out there.”

  He followed my gaze and looked out onto Sin City. “I don’t see anything.”

  The colossal bird swooped up, exposing its full form to us. For a terrifying instant the lights of Vegas were blotted out by the body of the creature, easily ten feet tall. With its wings stretched wide, scaly feet tucked in against its body, the thing climbed into the night. I may have imagined it, but I thought I heard the sound of groaning metal as it landed on the roof above us.

  Marius’s stare locked onto the ceiling and the color drained from his face. “Scratch that. Let’s make ourselves scarce.”

  Without another word, we bolted out of the office and down the hall. Marius reached the elevator first and punched the call button. Once we were inside and on our way back down to the garage, I looked to Marius.

  “What was that thing?”

  “I have a few ideas, and none of them are good.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  Eyes tracking along the ceiling, Marius answered, “Perhaps it could wait until I don’t run the risk of conjuring it by speaking its name.”

  We’d traveled a few floors when the elevator lurched to a stop. The doors opened, but no one was there.

  “Hello?” Marius called into the dim hallway.

  Answered by a flicker in the overhead light, Marius pushed a button and the doors closed. The car, however, didn’t resume its descent. Clicking and creaking, the elevator settled in the shaft, immobile.

  “I don’t like this,” he said, jabbing at the button to get us to the garage.

  “Let me take a look,” I said.

  I stepped to him and began to open my senses to the control panel when the air cracked. A flash, a small fzzt sound, and the compartment plunged into darkness. Without power traveling to the car, the elevator became null to my new senses. A dark void surrounded me. Trembling, I suppressed the urge to shift my back to the wall.

  “I need to look at the control panel. Do you have a lighter or something?”

  I could feel Marius turning around beside me. He whispered something, and a small, sphere of light appeared over his palm.

  “Excellent,” he muttered.

  The amber ball floated into the air, passed over his shoulder, and stopped over the dual rows of buttons. It hovered there, flickering like a candle.

  “Helpful trick, that,” I murmured, echoing Marius’s earlier comment.

  He gestured to the control panel. “There you are—a little bit of my magic to help you do yours.” The satyr tried to hide his fear, but the arrogance had fled his voice, leaving it thin and dry. His words spilled out, “Now, if you’d be so kind as to hum a few bars and get us out of this elevator, I would really appreciate it.”

  I put a hand to the wall and searched the control panel, but all I could think about was my desire to get away from the huge bird.

  That’s when the thing’s long beak slashed through the roof like a knife forged in Hell.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Higher Ground”

  I flattened myself against the wall with a shriek of pure terror. The creature’s beak, as long as my arm and whip thin, tapered to a gleaming point. As it retracted through the roof I couldn’t imagine how either of us would survive an encounter with that wicked edge. In the wan light of Marius’s sphere, I could make out the seam in the ceiling. As obsidian claws curled around the warped metal, I caught the flash of a single, red eye.

  “Pan’s balls!” Marius shouted as he fell back across the compartment. The satyr came up in a low crouch and drew his saber with his right hand.

  Seeing the razor-sharp blade of the sword threw my mind into a torrent of commands. The memories of the shark coming to the same end made my stomach churn and my legs wobble, but it also encouraged me. While something in the back of my mind quailed and screamed, the rest of me focused and searched for a weapon. Something told me no hammers would f
all from the sky this time.

  With a trembling hand I yanked open the maintenance hatch in the control panel. Shadows fell over the twisting cables and circuits, making it seem as though the maintenance box was full of writhing snakes. I needed the little ball to drop so I could see properly.

  “Lower,” I hissed. To my surprise, the orb pulsed once and floated down in compliance. “Um, thanks.” With enough light, I set to work, trying to get the elevator to talk to the power grid. After, we could chat about getting us to the garage.

  The metal ceiling squealed again as the creature’s claws peeled it back. Marius grunted and his blade slashed at empty air. Each time one of his cuts came close to the mark, the bird let out a series of piercing complaints. However, the satyr didn’t score any direct hits.

  The power began to flow through the control panel with the sluggish rhythm of an old music box as I coaxed it. The cables sucked up the current irrigating the parched circuit board, but the energy quickly ebbed away. I tried again, forcing my will into the dead connections. Once more, the jerking rhythm started but ground quickly to a halt.

  I kicked the wall and growled, “Work, goddammit!”

  The lights above had been trashed by the bird, but all of the lights in the button panel flared to life. Percussive maintenance for the win!

  Energy hummed through the car, and above us the bird shrieked again.

  “Garage!” I yelled at the elevator.

  The brakes released and it shuddered. Marius stumbled, the sword cutting wide and slashing the bird’s cheek. Dripping black ichor into the car, the bird let out a hideous wail. Thunderously loud, the beat of its wings filled the air and metal tore again.

  The car picked up speed.

  “Slow down,” I insisted. “Slow. Down!”

  With a plaintive whine, the power drained from circuits beneath my fingers. I slouched against the wall. In an instant, Marius stood behind me.

  “What’s happening?”

  “We’re falling!” I yelled.

  “Anything you can do to stop it?”

  “No, the board is fried.”

  Over our heads the bird let out a rasping caw as it thrust its beak down. One of the thick cables snapped, and the sides of the compartment began to rattle. Just before the flickering orb of light petered out, Marius set his face to stony concentration.

  I strained to see, but darkness had fallen over the elevator.

  Above, the bird continued to stab at us and tear the ceiling with its ferocious talons. It let out a guttural purr like some gigantic pigeon. Its wings flapped with the sound of snapping flags in a windstorm.

  Marius was close enough for me to reach out and touch, but I couldn’t see him. His voice, though, joined the din of sounds pressing on my ears. As he chanted, murmuring again in some arcane language, my stomach quivered. Energy swarmed the compartment as Marius called up his own brand of power.

  The elevator doors began to shake. Air whistled and whipped around the hole in the ceiling. A feather brushed against my face, and I screamed. Sinking to the floor, I huddled myself into a protective ball, all the while fighting away the mental image of the beak spearing through my spine.

  With a cacophonous lurch, the car came to a stop. All at once, the bird squawked, Marius growled in pain, and he hit the floor. Groping blindly, I found the seam in the smooth metal and forced my fingers between the doors.

  “Catherine!” Marius called. “Open the goddamn door!”

  No sooner had he said it than light from the parking garage began to stream into the shredded car. Still in a crouch, I moved forward, but the satyr’s strong hands pushed at my bottom, and I fell to the concrete. The two of us tumbled out of the elevator. I felt a hollow pop and a warm, wet feeling as my knee exploded with pain. My palms scraped along the concrete, and I tasted blood. Chancing a glance back, I saw why I’d fallen. The car had stopped on a cushion of air a few feet off the ground.

  Standing up, Marius tossed his mane and let out a snarl. The car smashed down. Like a limp shadow, the bird fell from the ceiling and collapsed in a heap of feathers. I didn’t wait to figure out if it was dead.

  Pushing myself to my feet, I put too much weight on my knee and stumbled into Marius. He hissed in pain.

  “Shit,” I said. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Bugger! This is one of my best shirts,” he snapped, holding the soaked fabric to a gash on his biceps. “What about you? Did it nip you?”

  I shook my head. “Just a little wobbly.”

  “Can you run?”

  “I can make it to the car.”

  “Come on then.” Marius grabbed my wrist, and I took off at a pained trot toward the silver Mercedes.

  Behind us, the bird let out a peal of anger. I shouldn’t have looked but I did.

  Framed in the bulging doors of the ruined elevator, the creature hunched over, its sharp beak scraping the ground. Turning its head, it flashed one red eye at us and rasped again.

  “Bugger!” Marius cursed.

  We ran. The Mercedes—blessedly close thanks to the executive parking—gleamed like a mirage. Marius let go of me, and we flanked the car. The moment I touched the car, the locks popped open.

  “You’re handy, you know?” Marius said as he slid behind the wheel.

  With a screech of tires, we hauled ass out of the parking garage, the bird taking flight in our wake. Even at this obscene hour, people were still on the Strip. Drunk—or wishing to the gods that they were—revelers milled about on the street in a distracted haze. That is, until a car trailing a gigantic fucking bird came careening toward them.

  Marius dodged a few scattering pedestrians and got us back onto the Strip. We didn’t make it far when the oversized crow slammed into the trunk, and we spun out of control. Tires screeching on the pavement, we ended up on the opposite side of the median. A tour bus, its horn blaring, swerved into the next lane and barreled down the Strip. We’d been caught in a skid. As he tried to right the car, Marius took out a bank of newspaper machines, finally coming to a stop just shy of the Mirage’s famous waterfall.

  While some bystanders cheered or gathered close to gawk, most fled.

  Marius fought with the key, grinding the engine, but I knew the Mercedes wouldn’t start. She needed a mechanic, not a magician.

  “We have to run,” I said, my voice as loose and shaky as my limbs.

  Marius peered out the back window. I watched the rearview and saw the bird, dazed and wounded, pick itself up in an ungainly way.

  He glanced at my knee. “Can you make it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Fair enough.” He pushed out of the car. I grabbed my bag, hitched it over my shoulders, and started down the Strip.

  I hadn’t made it more than a handful of steps when Marius grabbed at me by the shoulders. “Wait!”

  Ahead of us, right where I would have run, three people stood bathed in the streetlight. All of them were lithe and ethereally beautiful, like elves or angels. The oak leaves tattooed on their flesh gave them away as servants of the Fae. Out of a swath of shadows, Dahlia stalked forward, heels clicking on the pavement. She’d traded her evening gown for red leather.

  “Cat,” she said, “I tried to warn you. You should’ve run far away from here. Now, I have no choice but to do as my master bids.”

  Behind her the waterfall surged with energy, and the liquid began to course like blood, crimson and thick.

  “Oh? Puck is pulling your strings now rather than the queens? Wow. That’s a demotion, isn’t it?”

  She ignored my slight. “You need to come with us. The Fae request your services.”

  When I spoke, my voice quivered with fear and rage. “If I refuse?”

  Her lips peeled back into a leer. “You will offend us.”

  “Like I’ve never done that,” I scoffed. “Sorry, I’m not available.”

  Dahlia’s eyes went cold. “Suit yourself.” She called an order to the faery on her left, a blond man in artfully
shredded clothes. “Kill the satyr.”

  The faery had taken two steps when the devil bird plunged its beak into his chest. A screech of panic filled the air as the few witnesses left on the street took off at a run. As the blond twitched and gurgled, the bird sank its talons into his abdomen and used its victim’s body as leverage while it feasted on the faery’s still-beating heart.

  I could only watch in stunned horror. Even Dahlia seemed surprised, her icy mask cracking at the seams. Further, her eyes widened as fire scorched the air with a resonant roar. The Mirage’s waterfall had transformed itself into an erupting volcano.

  The dancing flames reached sinuously up into the night sky like the fluid arms of a dancer. Then, two of those blazing arms dipped down and pushed on the lip of the volcano. A figure rose into the night. The body of a woman made entirely of fire emerged, her flaming hair whipping in a dangerous wind. Her eyes, black as obsidian, focused on us as she lifted a hand.

  Dahlia’s mouth fell open. “The goddess stirs. Flee!”

  As the faeries turned their backs on her, the volcano goddess—Pele—cast a burst of fire into the night that swallowed the one being mangled by the bird. With an indignant squawk, the bird flapped into the air and swooped to land dutifully on Pele’s shoulder.

  “That means us, too,” Marius said. His arms flew around me, and he shoved me into a run. The faeries turned right and fled across the street while Marius and I pounded forward, away from the demon birds and volcanic sirens. Hot pain flared in my injured knee, and my breath came in gulps of burning acid. With his longer legs and super-human constitution, Marius pulled ahead of me.

  I mustered the breath to call his name.

  “Almost there,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  I started to ask what he considered to be there, but the slaps of my shoes changed to hollow thunks as I left the concrete pavement and began running across the wooden gangplank leading up to the Treasure Island hotel. To my right, the Strip. To my left, a world sculpted to look like a seaside mission town. Two pirate ships made port in the manmade lagoon, casting shadows in the purple and blue floodlights.

  Doubling over, holding the stitch in my side, I gasped for air. Every needle-sharp breath I heaved tore at my side. My knee throbbed. I wheezed as I tried to catch the satyr’s attention. “Marius…”