Lucy didn’t think the regular police stood a chance against monsters. Didn’t you need silver bullets or something like that? In movies, the people who fought monsters or demons or whatever always had silver bullets or a set of magic knives. That’s how the old guy was going to kill that little devil kid Damien, right? Lucy didn’t know if magic knife commandos were a thing, but she sure hoped they were, because the pool-monster was really big and it would probably take a bunch of magic knives to kill it.
Morgan returned, grinning from ear-to-ear, with three shots of tequila, beers and the largest plate of nachos Lucy had ever seen.
“You are a god among men,” said Penny, stuffing her mouth with messy nacho goodness and a beer chaser.
Lucy patted Morgan on the knee. “Excellent job, young man.”
The three of them absolutely murdered the plate of nachos. Morgan was scraping the plate with his fingers to get the last little bit of congealed cheese. Lucy made a face at him.
“What,” he said, around a mouthful of fingers. “It’s the best part.”
“Excuse me,” a sweet voice interrupted.
Lucy turned to find a casino hostess dressed in a mock toga—they were in Caesars after all. The woman was on the downside of middle-age. She was still pretty but starting to crinkle around the edges. Her name tag read, “Debbie”.
“Can I get you anything else?” Debbie asked. “Another drink? Maybe something else to eat?”
“Well, I don’t know, Debbie, what’ve you got?” Penny asked, a slight slur to her voice. She had sweet-talked Morgan out of his shot, so she was tipsy and on her way to drunk.
“We have a chicken finger basket that’s pretty good,” Debbie said brightly.
“We’ll take two,” Penny said.
“Debbie, do you know what’s going on out at the pool? Is there anybody . . . you know,” Lucy asked.
“Oh, heavens no. Nobody was killed.” Debbie shook her head emphatically. “The police think a bear or something got loose in the pool area.”
“A bear?” Morgan snorted. “Doubtful, there are no bears out here in the desert.”
“Well, maybe not a bear, but some type of wild animal. There are lots of magicians who use tigers in their acts,” Debbie said, knowingly.
“Tigers? Really?”
Lucy interrupted before Morgan popped a gasket. “Debbie, I’m not a big sports person. Is there any other kind of gambling I can do while we wait for the police to finish up?”
Morgan said, “Gambling? Lucy, you can’t be serious.”
“Hush,” Lucy said, placing her finger on Morgan’s lips. “The adults are speaking.” Morgan’s eyes flashed with irritation. Lucy grinned at him and said, “As I was saying, is there anything we can do to keep ourselves busy?”
“Sweetie,” Debbie began, placing a hand on her hip. “This is Vegas, you can gamble in the bathroom if you want. What you want to do is play Keno.” Debbie pulled several pieces of paper out of a well-placed pocket and handed them to Lucy.
“Keno?” said Lucy. “Is it hard?”
“Nope, all you do is pick numbers,” Debbie explained. “If your numbers come up, you win.”
“Like roulette?” Lucy couldn’t hide her excitement.
“Kind of, except there’s no wheel, the numbers are computer-generated. It will definitely help you pass the time.”
“I’m in!” Penny shouted.
Morgan shook his head and sighed. “Can you give us a minute, Debbie?”
“Sure, I’ll put your order in and be back to collect your Keno sheets.” Debbie winked at them as she walked away.
“You’re not really going to play Keno, are you?” Morgan asked.
“Why not?” Lucy said. “We’re stuck here until the cops finish up, why not use our time wisely?”
Lucy didn’t consider that playing Keno put her in the same category as the idiots who kept gambling earlier when clearly there were panicked and hurt people running around. The situation had calmed down, the injured were being taken care of, and there was nothing else to do.
Morgan held out his hand, gesturing for a Keno sheet. He studied it for a minute. “Wow, this game pays out big, but instead of one number you have to guess multiple numbers.”
“Sounds like it’s right up our magic alley,” said Lucy.
“Shhh!” Morgan hissed, looking around all paranoid-like. “Not so loud with the ‘M’ word.”
“The ‘M’ word?” Lucy asked, eyebrows arched.
“We don’t want anyone to overhear us,” Morgan told her in a low voice. “I’m sure use of the ‘M’ word is considered cheating. It’s like I said, the mob takes this stuff seriously. I think we need to go big and lose the first couple rounds.” Morgan held up his hand when Lucy started to protest. “Hold on, let me finish. Look here,” Morgan pointed to the Keno paper. “After we lose, say, one or two thousand, we then win fifty thousand.”
“Fifty—”
“Penny!” Lucy shouted, before Penny could finish screaming fifty thousand at the top of her lungs.
Penny leaned in close, her voice conspiratorial. “Thousand? Fifty thousand?”
Morgan nodded.
Lucy leaned over and kissed Morgan’s cheek, causing him to blush. “You are a genius. Let’s get Debbie’s panty-hosed legs over here and win some damn money.”
Penny and Morgan picked the first three batches of numbers. Lucy laughed when they actually hit two numbers and won a grand total of five dollars. Debbie brought them their winnings.
“Here you go.” Debbie sounded genuinely sorry. “I know five dollars doesn’t make up for the two grand you guys lost. I probably should have kept my fat mouth shut about Keno.”
“Oh, Debbie, you’re such a doll,” said Lucy. “But we’re feeling lucky. We think the fourth time is the charm.” Lucy handed Debbie the Keno sheet she had filled out.
Debbie just smiled and like the well-trained casino worker she was said, “Okay, you three. Good luck.”
Lucy, Penny and Morgan held hands as the new numbers were generated. Lucy held her breath. If they won, they would be splitting a grand total of sixty thousand dollars. It seemed impossible.
They won.
When Debbie returned she had a casino manager with her. They were both very formal and congratulated Lucy and her friends for their good fortune. Piper’s insistence on providing Lucy with the Cadillac version of a fake ID proved to be a lifesaver, because Lucy had to fill out super-official tax forms and if she’d still been toting her old ID, she’d probably be in jail and certainly wouldn’t be sixty thousand dollars richer.
Morgan, in true Morgan fashion, tipped Debbie five hundred dollars. She grabbed him by the face and kissed him, with tongue. The police finally released everybody, and Lucy and her friends headed for their suite.
Penny was still teasing Morgan when she opened the door. “Are you going to invite your new grandma-girlfriend up for a night cap?”
Morgan rolled his eyes. He’d given up fighting back.
Lucy locked arms with him. “We tease because we love.”
“Uh-huh,” Morgan said.
“You grandma-lover, you,” Lucy added, trying hard to keep a straight face.
“Grandma-lover?” A smooth voice said from the sofa. “Now that sounds like a story I would love to hear.”
Lucy, Morgan and Penny froze. Marcus was sitting in their suite, a glass of champagne in his hand, and a large, toothy smile on his face.
CHAPTER 9
The falling was much shorter this time, but the landing sucked balls. When I say I slammed back into my body that doesn’t even begin to describe the sensation. Logically, I understood that I hadn’t moved from the hospital bed, that the falling was all in my head, but it felt real. I knew I was in trouble when the speed at which I was falling increased. How could I tell how fast I was going if I was falling through nothing? Easy, at some point the hospital room appeared below me. I was looking at it from an overhead perspective and it looked about
the size of a postcard. I could see me and Wyatt lying side by side, and Elyse, Maddie and Cynthia standing and watching as the Society Healers scrambled around the room, obviously freaking out about something.
And then the itty-bitty hospital room started expanding. I took me a moment to realize that the room only seemed like it was getting bigger because I was rushing toward it way too fast. I closed my eyes for the last bit, because when you’re about to crash into something, closing your eyes helps.
It felt like the part of me that had been loose and floating free of my body was suddenly yanked back where it belonged. It was like a tape measure when a friend has pulled the tape out as far as it will go—maybe a hundred feet—and then lets go. The tape snaps back toward the spring-loaded metal spool in your hand and if you’re lucky, it won’t pinch your fingers as it clatters back inside.
My eyes popped open and I was about to comment on the crappy re-entry when I began to convulse. Every muscle in my body decided to go into spasms at the same time, except for my eyes. Those I was able to control and I watched as Elyse and Maddie each grabbed an arm to keep me from shaking off the table. I wanted to shout for them to get back, because the last time I’d convulsed like this was also the first time I’d shifted and I didn’t want to go all monster-bear with them standing so close.
My attempt at shouting resulted in a gurgling, grunting noise. I sounded like a drunken goose, so not cool.
“What’s happening?” Elyse shouted at the Healers.
Just when I was positive the convulsions were going to rattle my brain into mush, they stopped. I was drenched in sweat, my heart racing like I had just run the hundred meter dash.
“I did not like that,” I croaked. “Let’s not do that again.”
Elyse helped me sit up. I focused on Wyatt. The kid looked hammered. Obviously he had experienced the same kind of seizure, but not being a super-shifter it had taken a lot more out of him.
“Hey,” I said. “You don’t have permission to die.”
Wyatt gave me a weak wave and then promptly vomited all over the Healer who was standing nearby ready to give assistance. It took every ounce of self-control I had to keep myself from puking too, all over Elyse and Maddie. The other Healers in the room rushed to Wyatt’s aid and performed some quick mojo that seemed to help almost immediately.
“What happened?” I asked. “Why’d we get zapped back?”
Elyse poked at the arm the demon-dog had crushed. It was well on its way to being healed, but was still sore.
“Ow,” I said, pulling it away.
“Exactly,” Elyse fumed. “We watched your arm getting crushed. It looked like you were being killed.”
I could tell she was upset, so I tried to play it cool. “Nah, just banged up a bit. You should see the other guy.”
Elyse folded her arms and glared at me. Oops, I totally miscalculated that response. I nudged her with my foot.
“I’m okay, really,” I assured her. “And thanks for pulling us out, it was getting kind of crazy.”
Cynthia cleared her throat. “What exactly happened? Were you able to make contact with Lucy?”
“Sort of,” I replied.
Wyatt piped up from his bed, “Yeah, Lucy was totally hot for Orson, it was classic.”
I winced, the kid’s mouth would be the death of me. I smiled at Elyse, shaking my head slightly, trying to silently refute Wyatt’s blabbering.
Elyse pursed her lips and backed away from me a few steps. “Oh, really? I think I’d like to hear that story.”
“There’s no story,” I said, throwing Wyatt the stink-eye. “It’s not Lucy—well, it is Lucy, but it’s like a totally eighties version of Lucy. I mean, she’s like a high school kid or something.”
“Hey,” Wyatt said, taking offense at my high school crack.
“Oh, so she was like an eighteen-year-old Lucy?” Elyse asked pointedly.
Uh-oh, there was no safe way to answer that question. Elyse and I were eighteen and I realized the flaw in my argument too late. Wyatt on the other hand kept digging me in deeper.
“Exactly,” Wyatt said. “And it turns out she was totally hot in the 1980s. She even had on this little blue bikini.”
“Wyatt! Please, dude, none of that is relevant.”
I was dying.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Elyse. “It sounds like you guys were having a party, with bikinis and everything.”
“Miss Kelly,” Cynthia interrupted. “If I may ask a few more pertinent questions? Orson, Wyatt, you have both mentioned the 1980s, so are we to assume that the memory you experienced was from that era?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “And it was super-detailed. I kept forgetting we were in a memory.”
“Yes, the magic would make it almost indistinguishable from reality,” Cynthia agreed. “And you found yourself in one of Lucy’s memories of Los Angeles?”
“Nope.”
Cynthia tried to hide her surprise, but I was watching for a reaction, so I didn’t miss the slight tightening around her eyes.
“We landed in Vegas,” said Wyatt. “In the middle of a casino, it was crazy.”
“A casino?” Elyse said, confused. At least she didn’t look angry anymore.
Cynthia’s play-it-cool attitude was starting to crack. “Las Vegas, Nevada?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s where Las Vegas is,” I said. “You sound a little sketched-out about us landing in Vegas. Is there something we should know?”
“Please, I do not sound sketched-out,” said Cynthia.
“Yeah, you kind of do,” Elyse said.
I hopped off my bed and locked eyes with the formidable mage. “Cynthia, we all want to help Lucy, and to do that we’re going to need to know everything.”
Cynthia remained silent. She glanced at Lucy lying in the bed a few feet away. It was clear Cynthia was having an internal debate about how much to tell us, so I helped her along with the decision process.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re worried about spilling the secret that back in the eighties Lucy was dabbling in blood-magic?”
Maddie gasped.
Elyse looked from me, to Cynthia and back to me. I nodded, letting her know that what I just said was the truth.
Cynthia’s shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes. “When you saw her, it was that obvious?”
“Her aura wasn’t saturated, but yeah, it was obvious.”
“You have to understand, Lucy was—is a natural-born Paragon. No one in her family history had even the tiniest bit of magic. She didn’t know what she was, and the Society didn’t know who she was. Unfortunately, the other side found her before we did.”
“Holy crap,” said Wyatt.
“You’re going to need to start from the beginning,” I said. “We need to know all of it, because whatever she’s reliving, I get the feeling it’s not good.” I looked over at Lucy’s still form.
Cynthia suggested that Wyatt and I get ourselves cleaned up, grab a change of clothes, and a bite to eat, and told us all to meet her in the small conference room in fifteen minutes.
When we were alone Elyse pushed me down into a chair and planted herself on my lap. Professional interrogators, like at the FBI, could totally learn something from her technique.
“Okay, dork, spill.”
“First, I can’t even begin to explain how real it all was. We originally thought the spell had backfired and we had somehow been teleported to Vegas. That’s how real it was. Then it became obvious we were in the 1980s. I mean, I wasn’t alive then, but I’ve seen movies and documentaries and junk, and we had a rough estimate of when Lucy would have been running around as a teenager. But we didn’t understand why we were in Vegas, when she grew up in LA. When we finally figured it out and were able to locate her, it became super-apparent why she was in Vegas. She was winning a lot of money.”
“Magic?” Elyse asked.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she was using blood-magic to win, it’s the only thing that make
s sense. Anyway, she finally settled in one place long enough for us to try to figure out how we were going to approach her.”
“Let me guess, she parked herself at the pool?”
“Bingo. And that’s where the whole bikini thing happened.”
“Orson, it’s okay,” Elyse said. “I was just being territorial earlier. I’m allowed, it’s in the girlfriend handbook.”
“The girlfriend handbook?”
“Yes. Now tell me about your arm and leg.”
I had to give Elyse the Cliff Notes version of the fight with the demon-dog as we walked to the conference room, because Cynthia didn’t allow tardiness. And once we were all seated around the table Cynthia asked that, before she shared what information she had, she would like Wyatt and I to give a full account of what we experienced.
We got out a fairly coherent version of what happened. Cynthia was intrigued by the fact that the magic spectrum was visible to me in the memory bubble. Everyone was patient and let us get through the entire story before they started zinging questions at us.
“Did you ever get the exact year?” Ellen asked.
“No.”
“Are you sure Lucy’s aura exhibited signs of blood-magic?” Cynthia asked again.
“Yes.”
“When you say the demon-dog from Ghostbusters, you mean it reminded you of that, correct?” Maddie asked.
“No, it was an exact lookalike except for the tentacles,” I said.
“Yeah,” Wyatt said. “With the whippy tentacles, it also kind of looked like Sharktopus.”
Everyone turned to stare at Wyatt.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “None of you have ever seen Sharktopus? It’s a classic. Lucy and I did an entire marathon one Saturday—” Wyatt realized what he just said. “Hey, you guys don’t think . . . ?”
I turned to look at Cynthia, who was drumming her fingers on the table. “Two movie monsters in a nightmare mash-up? Lucy’s brain came up with that?” I asked.
“It would seem so,” said Cynthia. “I told you her mind would fight back.”
“But you never said anything about her being able to conjure up freaking demon-dog-sharktopus monsters that are almost impossible to kill.”
Lucy: A Paragon Society Novel (Book 3) Page 9
