“Sounds good to me. Hasta mañana.” Vic strode out.
“Thank you. It’s been an honor, Madam Flamel. I mean, Perenelle.” Red stepped into the hallway. Curiosity made her pause, and she glanced to the window. “What is that view?”
“Prague, the original city of alchemists. Welcome to the newest.” Perenelle’s smile contained centuries of mystery and wonder. She walked away to the tea service and picked up a cup to peer inside. It was the one that Red had used.
The door closed, disappearing without a trace. Red stepped closer to touch the wall. The beige stone was a wallpaper pattern. Even the flaming torches were just blown glass. It was all a façade. An empty housekeeping cart rested at the end of the line of numbered hotel rooms in the hall.
“Where are we now?””
“I told you, the floor plan is always changing here. Hard to tell where the school and the casino begins or ends.” Vic rubbed his chin, taking in the scene. “I don’t see something gold.”
“Let me rev up my witch-o-vision.” Red turned on her spirit gaze. The walls were etched with sigils against theft and fire, but one symbol stood out with its glimmering golden script. She walked down the hall until she found another. “Okay. I got it.”
“This is like following Lassie. Do you have the scent, girl?”
“Shove it and yes, I do.” Red took them right at a fork in the hall. The rush of surviving a wolf fight and crashing a magic portal ebbed away, leaving worries behind like shells on a beach. “What do you think classes are going to be like, Vic? I mean, I want to learn, but you saw me back there. I got two out of three right, and that’s just because one was multiple choice.”
“I was freaked when I went to London to study with the Bards too,” Vic said consolingly. “You feel like a bumpkin and like everyone is ahead of you, then they tell you to your face. You’re only friends with the weird IT guys and the crusty old dudes. Every class is a battle. You know you’re just going to make them eat it.” He slammed his fist into his palm. A fervent determination entered his increasingly loud words. “All the judgment. Make ’em eat it!”
Red lifted her eyebrows at his outburst. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m hoping there isn’t that much judging. Your friend seemed cool, and Perenelle is surprising approachable for an immortal. What if I don’t have the potential that she sees?”
“Hey, you got this.” Vic lightly punched her shoulder. “I’ll be here every step of the way. Sometimes at the poker table, maybe a boxing match, but always there emotionally.”
The hallway opened into a wide circular atrium. Red stopped her sarcastic remark to gawk. She figured that the casino had to have a gimmick, all of Vegas did, but she wouldn’t have guessed this.
“Take it in, Red. You have to admire their magical balls.”
Beige columns carved with runes towered over the tourists walking through in shorts and flipflops with colorful plastic cups. Busy front desk clerks checked in guests under a magnificent dragon-shaped chandelier. A bellhop in a robe and purple turban pushed a suitcase trolley. Electronic signs advertised Diego Blanco, the spell binding singer in the Nostradamus Lounge with a silent video of him in a white suit, tossing his head and crooning into a microphone. The screen transitioned to a cauldron full of shrimp and the directions to the buffet.
The lights flashed blue, causing the crowd to still. Heads tilted up at the high ceiling decked out in a LED display of an ethereal eddying cosmos.
Vic chuckled and checked his watch. “Right on time. The alchemists are keeping up the old traditions. They stopped doing the pirate show at Treasure Island, ya know.”
Recorded thunder boomed over the sound system.
“Stop, fiend!” A stilted masculine voice rose over the din from speakers hidden in potted palms.
Hunched in tattered back robes, a sneering man skittered to the center of the atrium. Pumping up the crowd, the theatrical hunchback juggled three shiny goblets. “I’ve stolen the goblet of Anne Boleyn. She could make any man do her bidding with one sip. I came for just one, but then I saw another flashy trinket infused with powerful magic and then another. Well, you know how a five-finger discount goes, people!” He waited for the easy laughter of drunk tourists as he tucked the props back in his robes.
The hero in the pop-up production emerged from the growing crowd. In a fantastically embroidered purple suit, he adjusted his lace collar against his tan neck. Freezing as if more scared of the spectators than his supposed foe, he didn’t have the polish of the other actor. He was handsome in a long-faced Shakespearean way like one of those British actors who were always in period pieces about Queen Elizabeth. Red bet he was hired for his good looks.
He struck a heroic pose. “You’ll rue your jokes.”
“That mage thinks he is a paladin, but nothing can keep a bad warlock down!” The thespian pantomimed his diabolical glee, a mic taped to his cheek broadcasting his scene chewing.
The good mage raised an elaborately carved wand, tip glowing like an overgrown laser pointer. “Ego te neco!”
The overhead LED screen flashed a confusing meaningless jumble of mystic symbols in time with the fake thunder.
Falling over, the hunchback twitched on the marble. Smoke and sparks rose from his body. He stilled. The atrium returned to its florescent glow. The actor jumped up and bowed with a flourish. “Fancy the fantastic? Crave the arcane? Want a show with your dinner? Join us at the Clash of Wizards tonight!”
The tourists clapped and eagerly accepted coupons from the two men before wandering to their next misadventure.
Red pointed at the scene. “Did that just happen?”
“Welcome to the Circe Casino. This is where the real magic happens.”
“When you said that they had the academy hidden in a casino, I thought you meant it was hidden. Doesn’t this violate the Dark Veil somehow? I almost get turned into a vampire for barely breaking the big old code of secrecy and they have a neon sign that promises magic.”
“Everything is part of the act in Vegas. You saw the wizard duel. They get them used to weird shit at the door.” Vic strode forward to the reception desk inlayed with a mosaic depicting the zodiac signs. “This isn’t a vampire town, Red. Different rules.”
The clerk piped out a peppy greeting from behind her computer monitor. Under her nametag, golden alchemy symbols decorated the breast pocket of her suit.
“The room might not have hit your records yet, but our agent should have arranged rooms under Red or Vic Constantine.” Vic smiled and leaned on the desk. He winked. “She’s not my wife, by the way. Like a little sister.”
Red rolled her eyes at his attempts at charm. He had already proclaimed that he was back in the dating game on the ride here. Repeatedly.
The clerk replied in a neutral professional tone. “Well, you might need to tell your travel agent that, because I just have a single room with a king-sized bed under your name, Mr. Constantine.”
Red shot Vic an annoyed look. “You’re taking the floor.”
Hannah strolled up to the desk, hands in her pockets. “Don’t worry about a room, Red. You’re staying in another part of the um, hotel.”
Red held up a finger. “Just a sec. Vic will be right back for that room key.” She led the group away from the desk, then crossed her arms, glancing between the two. “The Synod got back with a decision quickly. I mean, I think they did. I’m still not exactly sure what a Synod is but I assume it’s a fancy council of guys in pointed hats.”
Holding up her hands, Hannah shrugged. “I’m just the messenger. I got no idea how those committee geezers work.”
“Usually, I’m the cynical one, but I knew they’d let you in. You’re going to wow them with everything I taught you.” Vic grinned, sizing up Red and lightly punching her arm playfully. “I guess you got the thumbs up from Perenelle. How could they say no?”
“You talked to the Immortal Alchemist? Oh… Did she mention me… or the explosion?” Hannah winced, chewing on her lip. She sho
ok her head, rubbing her arms, lips falling into a sulking pout. “Never mind. Maybe I don’t want to know.”
Vic chimed in. “She didn’t seem too fazed, kid.”
Red smiled at the forlorn teen. “So, I’m going to be staying in the academy? You’re going to have to show me where.”
Genuine excitement flashed across Hannah’s face. “Of course. You’re bunking with me!”
Chapter Three
Hannah led Red through a disoriented maze of neon machines, card tables, and roulette wheels in the Circe Casino. Sigils against fraud and violence graced the ceiling, but no manipulative energy hovered over the games. The alchemists didn’t need to use magic to take their tourist money. Gambling was its own spell.
Cocktail waitresses in black pointed hats darted across the aisles to sling high balls to the slot jockeys. Tapestries of phoenixes and griffins hung on the faux stone walls between potted palms. Visitors queued up for selfies with bosomy wax mannequins in a tawdry historical exhibition on the Salem Witch Trials. The décor blended medieval times and Arabian nights sprinkled with nearly every witch pop culture reference from the last century. All served up with cheeky camp.
They approached the Nostradamus Lounge. The open entrance framed packed tables surrounding a stage. Diego sang an old Sinatra song beside a white piano like a classic Vegas showman. His rendition of “I’m Gonna Live Till I Die” was just as spellbinding as advertised.
Red stopped to admire the alchemist’s pipes. She could tell he wasn’t using witchcraft to boost his performance. The enthusiastic clapping started at his final note. Outside the lounge, she lifted her hands to join in until she noticed the tall man who’d played the good mage from the floor show.
Leaning against the open bar door, he cocked his head as he spotted Red’s stare. Dark hair, streaked by the sun, brushed the froth of lace on his collar and framed his strong jawline and handsome features. He smiled, walking toward them in the purple suit that seemed like it had escaped a flamboyant steampunk tailor.
“Hey, Ezra.” Hannah waved. Giggles escaped her pressed lips as she checked him out. “Nice outfit. Did you fight the ghost of Prince for it?”
“Raul called out sick. I’m doing him a favor.” Ezra chuckled, laugh lines appearing at the corners of his deep-set hazel eyes. He adjusted his tightly fitted jacket. “Luckily, I did bad enough that they aren’t going to make me do the Clash of Wizards tonight. I guess I missed my shot at show business.” He confessed to Red, “I’m better at mixing drinks.”
“You won’t make me a drink.” Hannah groused.
“In three years, ask again.” Ezra chuckled. “Who is your friend?”
“She’s another witch! This is Red. She has a Bard too,” Hannah announced the piece of trivia with a delighted air as if they shared a birthday.
“I travel with a Bard, to clarify. I’m a hunter. Just here to sharpen up some skills. Nice to meet you, Ezra.” Red held out her hand to shake his. “If you’re the bartender, you’ll meet Vic soon enough.”
“Vic is the best!” Flailing her arms up, Hannah squeaked. “He is so cool. Like car chase in the desert cool. His van is full of guns and Mountain Dew.”
Ezra did a double take at Red. “How many guns does your friend have?”
Hannah stilled her fangirling to flick an unimpressed glance to Ezra. “No offense, but he’s totally cooler than Trudy.”
“I won’t tell my mom you said so. She’s already mad enough at you.” He crossed his arms, a gentle scold entering his tone. “It’s how she worries. We were all looking for you. I checked out the pinball place, Fremont Street, and the works before my shift.”
Hannah bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Ezra. I made something explode. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran.”
“I know. You’re new. You don’t know how it is yet. After five years of working in this casino, I can promise you that all the students blow something up once. The good ones do it a couple of times.” Ezra put his hand on her shoulder and leaning down to meet her eyes. He had a kind mouth as if he served up sympathy as much as beer at his bar. “I know my mom is scary, but you can talk to me next time.”
Hannah nodded, shoulders still slumped, but a light broke through the gloom on her face. “Okay. I better go before she texts to see if I’m messing around. See you some other time for a virgin cocktail.” She turned away with a wave.
“Nice to meet you, Ezra.” Red followed behind Hannah, looking over her shoulder at him smiling at her. She couldn’t help but match it as she glanced away. Letting distance grow between them and the lounge, she asked, “He’s the son of your Bard? How did you even get connected with them?”
“Trudy found me after I left Oklahoma City. Said I had a destiny. She brought me here to be trained. I think it’s just to lay low because of all the attacks. The furred foursome wasn’t the first.” Hannah shook her head. “Come on, I gotta make my bedtime. I’d take you on a tour, but I bet you want to get settled.”
“Well, I’m tired. I need my bag, though.”
“Taken care of, I bet. They like to do things like that. Magical hospitality, you know.” Hannah guided Red to a tiny donut shop tucked into a forgotten corner of the casino where the smell of fresh cream-filled delights won the battle against secondhand smoke. Ducking down a small hall, she leaned against a full-length mirror and took Red’s hand. “You gotta act natural for this.”
“Huh?”
Hannah stepped into the mirror. “Don’t let go.”
Red held back her unease to follow. The mirror slipped over her skin like plastic flaps into a walk-in freezer. Matter stretching out before snapping into place at her next step, she found herself on the other side in a rounded brown stone hallway. Electric lights shone onto red sigils painted on the wooden floor. A spiral brass staircase twinkled at the end in an open foyer. The energy felt layered with decades of magical residue building up like soap in an old shower.
“You can feel it, right? You might get lost in the academy, but you’ll always know you’re in it. This is the way to our dorm,” Hannah said, walking to the stair in the distance. “Once you get your key, that mirror will take you right here. Not every door is that reliable.”
The staircase grew as they got closer. An ornate rail guarded wide steps that could handle a dozen people walking abreast. It spiraled up through the open shaft of a tower. Glowing softly, the brass reflected the blown glass light fixtures to cast its own warm light on the stone walls. Suspended walkways bisected the stair at each floor to shadowy passageways above.
“We live here?” Red craned her neck.
Hannah yelped, knocking into her.
A giant raven strutted on skinny legs, feathers shaking at Hannah, as if late to its next appointment.
Red let the bird pass, smiling at it with the crazy hope that it would. “That’s real, right?”
“Wait until you step in its shit. This might as well be a coop.” Hannah pointed at the black crows perched on the rail of a high-up walkway as she walked up the steps. “Maybe the staircase might help us. Sometimes it turns into an escalator, and I haven’t figured out how. We’re less than novices, so we’re at the top with the birds.”
Red followed gingerly until she realized there wasn’t a trick to the steps. Hannah huffed about the climb and how annoying it was that they couldn’t just put in an elevator, but Red didn’t mind. She couldn’t stop staring at everything.
The steely gaze of Elizabeth I stared back at her from a portrait with a gray-bearded man in a neck ruff holding a golden astrolabe. John Dee perhaps. Other portraits hung between the stained-glass windows. Even squinting, she couldn’t decipher the images. They were too dark to make out. It wasn’t the bright lights of Vegas streaming through the windows.
The tower was mysterious to her mundane vision, it was downright arcane and surreal to her spirit gaze. Lingering at the landing of the fifth floor, she tapped a glowing sigil on the rail leading to the hall on the south side.
“It’s
not a button to turn on the escalator.” Hannah sighed with the force of a woman who had already tried it. “At least, not for us.”
In the end, the stairs didn’t do them any favors and they trekked up the full ten floors to a door on the north hall of the tower. Hannah opened it to reveal a sitting room filled with lumpy mismatched plaid furniture and a table in the little kitchenette. Two sets of French doors faced each other on either sides of the room. She walked to the set on the right and opened it. “This is yours. See, there’s even a duffle bag on the bed.”
“It’s mine.” Red examined the cubby hole of the room. It had only enough space to walk around the double bed. The wardrobe was a brass rod with bare hangers suspended in the corner. She had slept in smaller spaces, like the van. At least in here, she wouldn’t have to smell Vic’s feet. She unzipped her duffle bag. It had a bullet hole in it. Riffling through her clothes, she pulled up a shirt, looking at Hannah through the hole. “I’m definitely going to need to shop tomorrow.”
“I have some pajamas you can borrow.” Hannah went to her room and came back with an oversized University of Oklahoma shirt and stretched shorts. She handed them over. “You said something between all the gun fire. You said you knew my brother Brian and his girlfriend, Breanna.”
Red took the pajamas and set them on the bed. “I wouldn’t go that far, Hannah. I came through town on a job with Vic. We thought it was just going to be a regular bounty on a killer werewolf. High risk, but high pay—we’ve done it before.” She bit back a sigh and sat down. This wasn’t a thing that you rattled off like a grocery list. “You might want sit too. It’s not a pretty story.”
Hannah joined Red at the end of the bed, her leg shaking with nervous tension. “I still need to hear it. Just rip the band-aid off. I already know the worst of the story.”
“It all went sideways when we found out who hired us and why.” Red slowed, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best and least traumatic way to tell the story. That Oklahoma City job was a rough stretch for her, but she didn’t lose anything. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Hannah—who had lost everything. “Breanna was hunting vampires to avenge your family and her pack. She died trying to take down the vampire king at the Bricktown canal.”
Witch On The Run: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 4) Page 4
