by S A McClure
Spade
Fortuna Saga One
USA Today Bestselling Author
S.A. McClure
Be careful not to gamble away your soul.
Spade
Fortuna Saga One
USA Today Bestselling Author
S.A. McClure
Spade
Fortuna Saga One
Written by S.A. McClure
Edited by Leona Bushman
Cover Design by Jennifer Munswami of J.M. Rising Horse Creations
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Spade © copyright 2019. S.A. McClure
ISBN: 978-0-9992642-6-3
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
To my dear friend, Drew Bisson.
May you always remain lucky.
Chapter One
Amber flipped the death ace to the top of the deck. The hollow eyes of the skull printed in the middle of the spade stared up at her as she shuffled it back into the middle. Neon lights glowed above, casting a haze of color all around her. She yawned widely as she checked her watch. Ten minutes before the gamers started arriving. She still had ten minutes before she had to deliver that card to the unlucky player who’d gambled away his soul. He’d lost his bet, and now, Morta had come to collect.
Delivering the death cards to their victims was one of the many tasks Amber performed for her employer. She’d been assigned this role so many times, she’d nearly lost count. But, tonight’s was different. Tonight, she was friends with the recipient. More than friends, really. At least, she thought they were.
The death card landed on top of the deck again. She trailed her fingers over the small scroll at the bottom. His name had been scrawled in a tight, cursive hand. It glimmered as it caught the light from one of the signs flashing above her. Her fingers trembled. She could tear the card up. Let the pieces drift away in the underground sewage pipes. Leave it all behind. Her stomach squirmed at the thought. Her place at Morta’s side was all she needed. All she cared about.
“You look beautiful tonight, Fortuna.”
Amber jolted as the sound of his voice pulled her from her thoughts. Her lips parted slightly as she gazed at him with hungry eyes. Her heart drummed in her chest. None of the guests were allowed to know her real name. They only knew her as ‘Fortuna’—the goddess of luck. Her smiled faded as she met his familiar gaze. Acid swirled in her gut. Time was up. She swallowed, her jaw setting into a hard line.
“You shouldn’t have come here tonight, Ethan,” she whispered, her voice cold.
He sidled up to her, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh?” he asked as he leaned in to kiss her on her cheek. His smoky vanilla and cardamom scent sent a shiver of arousal down her spine. She slid her hands up his stomach until they were firmly pressed against his chest. His breath was hot against her skin. Goose bumps prickled the back of her neck as he growled softly.
She shoved him away before his lips met hers. The back of her throat felt raw and tasted of bile as she turned her face away from him. The attraction she felt for him wasn’t worth it.
“Do you feel lucky tonight?” she asked as she took a step away from him. With space between them the mixture of heat and coiled anxiety in her stomach dissipated to a manageable level.
“With you around?” he countered. His hooded gaze roamed her body, lingering on the bodycon dress stretched tight across her chest. Amber felt the heat rise to her cheeks. He always had this effect on her.
She shuffled the deck. “Draw a card,” she commanded.
His expression fell when he noticed the black, three-headed dog on the back of the cards. Everyone who was anyone knew what that design meant. Morta had made sure that the symbols of her gambling room, The Underground, were recognized by everyone in the ‘V.’
“I just had one bad game,” he said. “I swear I can pay it off. I just need a little time.” He took a step back, his cheeks paling. “It was just one bad game,” he repeated as if trying to convince himself.
Amber shrugged. No matter how much she liked him, he still owed a debt. Besides, it wasn’t as if that was the first time she’d heard that excuse. From her experience, it was never just one bad night.
“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, reaching a hand towards her. His fingertips barely grazed her cheeks as she turned her head away from him. She’d heard that one too.
“Just draw,” she commanded, not meeting his gaze.
“I could leave,” he said. His voice turned into a high-pitched fervor. “You could pretend I never came back here.” He began shuffling backwards.
He was going to run. Amber knew he wouldn’t get far. Knew that Morta would punish him if attempted it. She had a tendency to become vicious when crossed.
“It’s too late,” she called, jerking her head up toward the camera directly above them. Morta would already be on her way down to The Underworld’s mouth.
“Please, Fortuna,” he begged. Sweat gleamed on his brow as he ambled towards her. His eyes darted from side-to-side and his lower lip trembled.
How many times had she nipped at that lip during their time together? She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply before opening them once more to meet his gaze.
“I warned you,” she whispered as she pressed the deck of cards into his hand. “Do you remember? That first time we met?”
She gripped his arm firmly. “I told you to be sure not to gamble away your soul.” He attempted to yank his arm from her grasp.
She sighed.
Whether he drew the death card or not, Morta would collect what was due to her. Amber had never known her employer to forgive a debt of this nature. Sure, she had seen her erase entire columns of debt owed in terms of xandium—one of the rarest substances in the galaxy and the only known fuel source powerful enough to support the B-Drive—but never the energy she could steal from people. It just didn’t happen.
“We could leave together,” he pled. His eyes darted toward the door leading into the main gambling room. They were wrought iron with an intricate pattern of the ancient-Earth stories of Hades and his underworld. The tinkling of glass, whir of machines, and sound of laughter pulsed from just beyond them. They were revelries he would never experience again.
He cupped her cheek in his hand. “We could be together. It’s what I’ve always wanted. You. Me. Far away from all of this.” He swept his hand in the air, indicating the casino beyond them. “I have enough—”
His words were cut short as a tall, slender woman emerged from the entrance to the Underworld. Her silver-purple hair hung straight down her back. She wore a long black dress, which accentuated her curves. Her icy blue gaze locked onto Ethan as her thin lips curled into a smile.
Amber pressed the death card into Ethan’s hand. It was the only response she could give him now. He shuddered at her touch. Her fingers curled into a fist. She understood his anger and sense of betrayal. Still, his reaction to her stung.
“We can work this out,” he stammered. He attempted to step back, but Am
ber kept a firm grip on his arm.
Morta said nothing as she approached him. Amber looked away as liquid ran between Ethan’s legs. She ignored the powerful scent of ammonia as it wafted past her.
“I can get the money for you. I just need more time,” he murmured.
Amber hated it when Morta’s guested begged when it was time to collect their debts. At times, it made her recoil away from the brutality of what her employer was about to do. Other times, it just made her loathe humanity even more. Of course, she had never been considered human. Not really, anyway. None of the naturally augmented humans were.
Morta wrapped her hands around Ethan’s neck. He struggled against her. He thrashed. He moaned. And then, as Morta began pulling his lifeforce from him, he sagged. Her skin turned a glittering silver and his an ashen grey as his energy transferred to her.
When at last Morta removed her hands from around his neck, Ethan slumped to the ground. His face was gaunt, the skin stretched tight over his skull. He twitched slightly before stilling. No matter how times Amber saw what remained of the customers who gambled away their souls, she never got used to the husks left behind. Even his hair had turned into little more than a brittle, straw-like substance.
She swallowed the acid at the back of her throat and lifted her chin. There was no reason to look at him now. If he wasn’t dead yet, he would be soon. She turned her attention to Morta, who still glowed from the transfusion.
“Walk with me,” Morta commanded.
Amber slid the remaining cards into her dress pocket. Every single one of her dresses had pockets. It was one of the things she demanded from the seamstress she and Morta used for their evening gowns.
Morta linked her arm with Amber’s as they strolled down Beauchamp Avenue. It was considered the main strip of the ‘V’ and housed all the best gambling houses the mining planet of Thoth could contain. Morta owned nearly a third of the casinos in the ‘V.’ Her syndicate, known as the Underworld, was the second largest in the “V.” Only the Taurus Syndicate was larger.
“I have a new job for you,” Morta said.
Amber’s heart beat rapidly, and she inhaled sharply. She was loyal to Morta. She would always be loyal to her above all others. At fifteen years old, she’d left Earth with nothing. Thoth had been the cheapest ticket she’d been able to get at the time, but she had been alone with no money on a strange planet.
Morta had taken her in.
Taught her how to better control her ability to manipulate quantum probability. Given her a family. All she asked for in return was the completion of certain tasks—like delivering the death cards.
“Oh?” Amber asked. No matter how strong her loyalty to the older woman was, she still hated new assignments.
Morta stopped walking in front of one of her many bars: Elysium. A massive tree—Amber knew it was fake—exploded from the roof of the structure. Everything was white and gold. Despite the dust in the air, this particular bar always seemed clean to Amber, almost sterile. Inside, she knew more plants, both real and fake, would create a garden-like ambiance. Morta had spared no expense to ensure that Elysium was a bright oasis in the dark twilight of Thoth.
“Listen to me, Fortuna,” Morta ordered as she gripped Amber’s shoulders tightly. “In the not so distant future, I intend to leave this empire to you.” She tucked a stray lock of Amber’s hair into a pin at the side of her head. Her fingered lingered on Amber’s cheek. “I have had many protégés throughout the years, but none have shown as much promise, dedication, or loyalty as you.”
Morta’s icy-blue eyes roamed over Amber’s face. Amber’s stomach roiled at the thought. She had everything she could ever ask for. More than she had ever envisioned as a teenager still trapped within her uncle’s clutches.
“You gave me a second chance,” Amber whispered. “There’s nothing I can do to repay you for your kindness all these years.”
“Actually,” Morta began, “there is.”
Amber took a step backwards. “What do you mean? What can I do?”
Morta guided her into Elysium. She didn’t say a word as she led Amber to the private room at the back of the bar. She held out her hand as a robot arm unfolded from the wall and pricked her finger with a needle. Morta grimaced, slightly before staring into the control pad’s camera. The private room was only accessible through both retinal scan and blood diagnosis. It was here that Morta met with her naturally-augmented employees. It was also where she safeguarded her notes and plans for the Underworld.
Amber rubbed her pointer finger over her thumb’s nail, lingering on the rough spot at its edge. Her palms were sweaty and she fought the urge to wipe them on her dress. The door pulsed as the bolts locking the door slid back, allowing them to enter. She half-expected to see Morta’s entire squad of naturally augmented humans sitting around the conference table. She glanced side-ways at Morta as the motion-sensing light turned on.
The room was empty.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she stepped into the room. The door slid shut behind her with a resounding thud. Her back stiffened. She clasped her hands behind, aggressively wiping the sweat from her hands onto the back of her dress.
Morta didn’t respond to Amber’s question as she strode across the room. She pressed one of the gilded panels. Soundlessly, it recessed into the wall and then a small door popped open.
Amber blinked. How had she never noticed the outline of the door before? She ambled across the room and trailed her fingers over the edges of the doorframe. Although they were smooth, she didn’t understand how she had never noticed the outline before. She cocked an eyebrow at Morta.
Wordlessly, Morta slid past Amber and ducked beneath the low-hanging doorframe. Amber stared after her. Clearly, she was intended to follow, but the idea was wandering into the darkness below put a pit in her stomach. A cold breeze swept through the room, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on-end. Although her stabilizers didn’t whir beneath her skin, she couldn’t shake the tension rising from her stomach to her chest.
“Morta?” she called.
Her voice echoed down the hidden hallway. She stood on the precipice between the gilded room and the shadows. Her skin tingled the way it did when her body naturally began manipulating the odds in her favor. Usually, that meant her life was in danger, yet she couldn’t imagine Morta ever doing something to harm her. Ignoring the tingling sensation, Amber stepped over the threshold and began following Morta down the hallway.
Chapter Two
Morta unlocked a series of doors which led deeper beneath ground. Each time they passed through a new doorway, the tingling sensation grew stronger. It was as if everything within Amber were screaming for her to run. To get out.
At last, Morta slipped a slender, black key from inside the folds of her dress. At its base, it had a skull shape with two rubies nestled into the eye-sockets. She slid it into the old-fashioned keyhole and twisted. The locking mechanism popped as it shifted. The door groaned as Morta shoved it open. Dust particles danced in the dim light and Amber sneezed.
“What is this place?” she asked as she stepped past Morta into the final room.
Lamps burst into life. Unlike the white and gold walls of the bar above them, this room’s décor was dark. Tapestries hung on the walls, and a massive wooden desk filled the space on one end. A rug made from what appeared to be the hide of a white tiger covered the floor. Bookcases laden with actual books lined the walls. Amber gasped as she twirled around the room. She had never seen a physical book before. The closest she’d come was a 3D hologram. She trailed her fingers over the spine of one. It was rough to the touch and specks of the spine flaked off. She jerked her hand back and gawked at Morta with a mortified expression on her face.
“Careful with that one,” the older woman chided. “It’s from the mid-2000s.”
Amber’s lips formed a small ‘O’ as she looked more closely at the title. The gilded lettering was too faded to read. She tried to remember what her history
teacher had said about book production. If she remembered correctly, no new books had been printed since 2471. If what Morta was saying was true, the book she was currently touching was more than a thousand years old. She leaned in closer and noticed the deep, musty smell coming from the books. Wrinkling her nose, she stepped back and narrowed her eyes at Morta.
“How did you get these?”
“I have my ways,” she responded as she motioned for Amber to take a seat on a small loveseat nestled against the wall.
She did as she was told.
Morta pushed a tray towards Amber. It was laden with pastries and a teapot.
“How quaint,” Amber said as she lifted a cookie from the tray.
Morta smirked at her, her blue eyes flashing. “This room reminds me of simpler times.”
Amber bit into the cookie. It was much gooier than she had anticipated and stuck to the roof of her mouth when she tried to swallow.
“I’m at a place in my life where I want to shore up my legacy. As you know, I don’t have any children.”
Amber gobbled down the cookie and turned her full attention to Morta. There was something in the older woman’s voice that wasn’t quite right to her. Goosebumps covered her arms and the hair on the back of her neck rose. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she waited for Morta to continue.
“I’ve spent my whole life building this place from the ground up, and now, I want to finalize its dominance. To do that, I need you to help me broker a deal between us and Spade.”
“Spade?” She crinkled her nose at the word. “Why would you ever want to work with the LaRues?”
Word on the street was that the LaRues, who owned the third largest business on Thoth, were said to be some of the nastiest business partners. They’d named their gambling syndicate Spade; she had no idea why. She always thought it was to symbolize their desire for power. Their casinos were family-run and functioned more like a seedy gang than anything else. Amber had never considered them to be in the same class as the dark glamor of the Underworld.
