by Stark, Jenn
Dark hair winged away from his face and skirted the edges of his classically beautiful face, rich with the heritage of his French father and Egyptian mother. His folks hadn’t been able to take many family photos, since both of them died in the early thirteen hundreds, and that truly was a pity. I could only imagine how beautiful they must’ve been. Beautiful and arcane, as Armaeus’s mother had been a priestess in her own right, while his father had served as a knight in the Crusades.
That mystery-shrouded upbringing was nowhere in evidence other than the slant of the Magician’s eyes and the cast of his skin, however, as he strolled into the conference room in a four-thousand-dollar suit and gleaming wing-tipped loafers. Platinum glinted at his wrists and neck, and his suit jacket flared wide to reveal a deep-blue jewel-toned shirt, open at the neck. He looked very much the billionaire in residence, which was his preferred attire. Just as the Devil’s attire uniquely suited him, Armaeus looked comfortable enough in his flashy suit to start a pickup volleyball game.
He glanced to me briefly and smiled, something less than recognition lighting his eyes, but more than simple curiosity. I’d met him nearly three years ago, while he’d only met me a few months ago. Our relationship was…complicated.
“There is much we need to learn here, surely,” he said to Kreios. “Miss Wilde’s concern for Eshe is not unfounded. The High Priestess knew the parameters of her assignment. She agreed to them and, in fact, helped shape the nature of the gambit. Her concern for the kidnapped girls was real. Her experience in her own childhood was not pleasant, and she has not forgotten.”
Kreios nodded, then turned to me. “Eshe’s youth was spent in poverty, her startling beauty making it almost assured that she would be sold into marriage at an early age, until she expressed an ability that allowed her parents to set their bar a little higher. Even then, they beat her into submission before she would agree to the horrible strictures involved with being an oracle at Delphi. She never forgave them for that.”
That sounded a little ominous. “Why do I get the feeling that Eshe would be the type to hold on to a private grudge?”
Kreios inclined his head. “She waited until the most opportune time, then she appended a requirement to one of the supplicants seeking answers. A requirement the individual was more than happy to meet. Her father fared worse than her mother, but she held them both accountable.”
I rolled my eyes. “And this is who you trust going into the Shadow Court, knowing she could go dark?”
Kreios chuckled. “Eshe, perhaps more than all of us, does not need to color her acts with duplicity. She is who she is. We simply had to allow for that in our calculations.”
I made a face. “Oh, right, so this is where you tell me it was part of the plan all along?”
Beside me, Simon snorted. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Based on your assessment of the Shadow Court’s trajectory,” Kreios asked Simon, ignoring us both, “where do you anticipate the Shadow Court is traveling?”
“Honestly,” Simon said, rolling back to his computer, “my first thought was Cairo. Then Damascus, but now I’m kind of thinking it might be Dubai.” He wrinkled his brow and peered up at the Devil and the Magician. “Does that make any sense at all?”
Both Kreios and the Magician glanced my way as a ripple of uneasiness washed through me. I’d kept my mental barriers locked down tight after I’d returned from Pompeii, needing my own time to process the crazy I’d endured. But Dubai was smack dab in the Middle East. Like Arabian Peninsula Middle East, and I knew very little about that area. Was it known for pterodactyls?
“Dubai,” Armaeus murmured thoughtfully, drawing my attention. “As far as I know, there are no strongholds of Connected in the city, but communication from that area is notoriously difficult to track. We’ve not focused on it, but now that I consider that, I’m not entirely sure why. The area has a long history of involvement with arcane practices regardless of its present dedication to Islam. But as a stronghold for the Shadow Court? I have a harder time believing that.”
“A very hard time,” the Devil agreed. “However, there’s no denying that it is one of the richest areas in the world, with a leadership whose religious and arcane practices are very much held close to the chest. It’s possible there is a connection…and there are all those virgins to contend with.”
I winced. “Any word on them? Particularly the ones who weren’t flush with cash?”
“Not the three we couldn’t identify, but as for the celebrities, some of them have returned home, some haven’t,” Simon said, turning to a different screen. “The ones that have, though, haven’t been saying much. Everything from official news channels to their private social media accounts have been quiet. At least, as it pertains to their little jaunt to Pompeii. Whatever party they signed up for, they apparently all pinky swore not to say anything about it.”
He blew out a long breath and glanced toward the Devil. “We probably should track a couple of them down and see how dedicated to that cause they really are. Could be they just had a memory block applied. If someone applied the right lever, they may be persuaded to spill. It would give us something to go on while we’re waiting for Eshe to resurface.”
Opposite me, Kreios smiled. “I think that’s a very good idea.”
Simon leaned forward to his laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “Closest and most accessible is Kymberlee Aines, social media influencer, LA heiress, beauty sponsor,” he said. “She’s got a gig today, looks like, in an LA hotel—lemme get her schedule. And her contacts. And what she ate for breakfast this morning.”
As Simon mined Kymberlee’s private and public media feeds, Kreios glanced my way. “Justice Wilde? Would you care to join me?”
“Have a care, if you do. You don’t have a great deal of time,” the Magician put in, his admonition making me blink.
“I don’t?” I asked. “Why? Is Eshe in some kind of real danger?”
He arched a sculpted brow at me. “You cannot tell me that you’ve forgotten your compatriot’s event this evening. She’ll never forgive you if you miss it.”
I stared at him, completely lost, then I felt Simon’s gaze on me. The Fool grinned at me as I glanced toward him, leaning back in his chair.
“I don’t think she forgot so much as she didn’t compute what today is. It happens, especially since you’re jumping time zones on the regular. But it’s the fourth, Sara. Remember? Nikki emceeing the show?”
Sudden awareness burned through me, and I flinched. “That’s tonight? I thought she was still hip-deep in prep. How is this already Thursday?”
“I can assure you that I will get you back in plenty of time before Miss Dawes’s triumphant performance,” the Devil said smoothly, his mouth twitching with amusement. “In addition, I will personally see to your wardrobe. You truly can’t ask for a better deal than that.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it again. As usual, the Devil was right. I’d pretty much planned on wearing my John Wick outfit again, minus the leather duster, which I lost in the crowd in Pompeii. I was going to miss that coat.
I turned back to Simon. “You got this Kymberlee person locked down?”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Kymberlee Aines, nee Denise Glaston, YouTuber, fashion model, makeup heiress of LA. She no doubt came back because she’s launching a new beauty line on the rooftop of the Carlton Hotel in downtown LA tonight. It’s the hot ticket for everyone who’s anyone.”
“We can’t wait for that,” I said. “I’ve got to be back here by…when does it start?”
“Ten o’clock,” Armaeus supplied.
I gave him a pained look. “Seriously? She couldn’t have started it any earlier?”
“What are you, my mom?” Simon chortled, and I blinked. I’d never before this moment actually considered Simon as having a parent, let alone a mother. How old would she be now? Was she even still alive?
I shook off the question as he continued. “The party in LA will
start around ten as well, but Kymberlee’s booked solid with promo and pool parties at the same hotel until she has to go slither into her evening-wear tube top. You’ll have plenty of time to chat her up and get back here.”
“And take a brief detour while we’re in the city,” Kreios put in. “I have found their wardrobe selection is eminently more sophisticated than what we have here in Las Vegas.”
I grimaced. “You know, I don’t think we need to go that crazy—”
“And I think we do,” Kreios said. “But we also can’t continue flying blind with the Shadow Court. Why are they in Dubai? Where is Jarvis Fuggeren in all this—and if he is simply a front, who stands behind him? The Shadow Court is moving, and they are picking up speed. We would do well not to be caught unawares when they finally strike. We need to know who they are, and what they are. Once and for all.”
“Agreed,” Armaeus said. He moved over to where Simon was typing furiously, but his manner was distracted, his jaw set. The sight couldn’t have pleased me more.
The Shadow Court was a mystery whose time had come to be solved, and the Arcana Council was on the case.
Finally.
4
Once Simon had his initial query underway, the Magician did Kreios and me the favor of transporting us to a hotel near where Kymberlee Aines was set up for her fashion show. He brushed a kiss across my lips as he left, the movement so quick, I wasn’t sure it’d actually happened…except for the Devil’s knowing smirk. Those two were the worst.
We emerged from a quiet alcove into the glitz-and-glam lobby, and I glanced around, confused. “Why didn’t we just go directly to the Carlton?”
The Devil’s smirk shaded to an indulgent smile. “Because the Carlton is not a friend of the Council, while the Rosewood makes itself available to us for whenever we have a need for its services, no matter how obliquely. We try to make a point of making an appearance whenever we’re in the city.”
I looked at him with some surprise. “Really? The Council cares about things like that?”
Kreios nodded. “You’ll find, once you’re forced to pay attention, that there are any number of things that the Council does that don’t seem to be quite necessary given our status and stature in the world. We maintain appearances, however. We nurture relationships. Not with very many people, and not in a very obvious way, and yet with an undoubted purpose to our actions.”
“Really.” I sensed that Kreios was trying to tell me something important, but in such a way that it couldn’t come back on him later. It was one of his most charming attributes, but I wasn’t getting the significance. That said, I did pick up on the subtle jab in his verbal gymnastics. “You don’t think I pay enough attention?”
“You most definitely do not,” he assured me without hesitation. “Admittedly, you haven’t needed to for the duration of your time with the Council. That situation almost inevitably will change. When it does, try not to be too surprised.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why do I get the feeling that you know something I don’t?”
His grin only broadened. “That, without a doubt, is certainly true. I would be embarrassed if it weren’t.”
While I was mid-eye roll, a manager emerged from the back room behind the gleaming reception counter, his entire expression lightening as he recognized the Devil. He was a small, tidy man with dark hair and dark skin, and he glided toward us in a bespoke pinstripe suit, beaming with excitement.
“Aleksander! Welcome. Welcome to you both,” he said, turning to include me in his air of bonhomie. “What brings you to the city today? And what can I do to help you? Truly, anything at all—I am at your service.”
“As it happens, we will not be staying long, though you are welcome to keep that information to yourself. If it is to your advantage to tell people that we will be in residence for a few days, by all means, do so,” Kreios said with a smile.
“Oh! Well, I am more than happy to take you up on your generous offer. It would very much be to my advantage to be able to share that we are entertaining you both.” The manager turned to me. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you, Ms.—”
“Justice Wilde,” Kreios inserted smoothly. “She has done her level best to remain out of the public eye, but I have a sneaking suspicion that will be changing soon.”
I studied him warily. “Oh?”
We’d be continuing that conversation later, apparently, as the manager turned in step to walk with us. “Is there anything I can do for you during your brief stay?” he asked, his expression as hopeful as a golden retriever’s.
I just wanted the guy to go away, but Kreios deliberately checked his stride. “What sort of movement have you been noticing?” he asked.
The man shrugged. “Only the usual. After that business earlier this year, the covens in the city have been quieter, as if their wings have been clipped. They’re still out and about in society, but not making a fuss. We’ve had an upsurge in devil magic, but that happens from time to time in the city.”
I looked over at him. “Devil magic?”
He smiled. “Justice Wilde, I’m proud to say that I have been providing Aleksander with the best information available about southwestern coastal United States and Mexico for some years now. I guarantee you that if there’s any movement in the Connected communities, whether through the arcane black market, the deeper magic, or the older families, I hear about it. I would be gratified to provide you with information should you ever need it as well.”
I nodded. “You’re, ah, affiliated with one of the houses?” The four houses of magic—Swords, Wands, Cups and Pentacles—were mortal created and mortal focused, and deeply entwined in the actions of the global Connected community. Anything that happened in the arcane world, aboveboard or below it, they knew about.
To my surprise, a look of elegant horror crossed the manager’s face. A second later, it was gone. “Ah! You would set me a test. It’s good of you, very good. What we are hearing…well. It is good to be cautious. To watch, and to wait,” he said. Before I could make any sense of that, he rushed on. “But to answer your question, assuredly, we are not affiliated with the houses. Our allegiance is to the Council. First, ever, and always. You can trust us.”
The Council? My brows flew up, but I managed not to gape. So the Council had its own network of supporters on the side? How had I not known this? I sent a mental ping to Armaeus, but he wasn’t picking up. The manager turned back to the Devil.
“We have noticed a lot of money coming into the district via arcane channels, not enough to alert the federal watchdogs, but enough to trip our wires. We’re not sure what’s been bought or sold, however. It almost seems like it’s more to make a point, an impression, if you will.”
Kreios nodded. “Somebody wants everyone to know there’s money to be had.”
“And in a city like this, reputation matters, but money still talks. We’ve made a note of it.”
“Excellent,” the Devil said. “What do you know about Kymberlee Aines?”
To my surprise, the manager hesitated again, a sudden, but decided, hitch to his step.
“Young and well liked, rich family, richer connections,” he recovered smoothly. “Has attracted sponsors up to her carefully moisturized décolletage, which she’s more than happy to display whenever there’s a camera involved. I warn you, if you are heading to her little presentation today, you should be prepared to be photographed. It’s the entire purpose of the event.”
Kreios chuckled. “We’ll be careful. Is she Connected?”
“Oh!” The manager seemed to be genuinely taken aback by the question, then shook his head. “No. No, I don’t think so. Now, are her sponsors part of the Arcanum? That’s a more interesting question, and one I also don’t know the answer to. But it’s worth looking into. I’ll let you know. Is there anything I should be cautious of?”
“Just tipping our hand a bit,” Kreios said smoothly, while my ears pricked up at the new word. Arcanum? Was
that merely the manager’s affectation, or was this some sort of new subset of the Connected?
“Anyone who’s watching will see us at the Carlton. I’m not attempting to make a secret of it,” Kreios continued. “But we appreciate the information. There are…actors we are interested in tracking.”
An unexpected spurt of irritation riffled through me at the Devil’s subtlety. I didn’t see the point in dancing around the subject. The manager seemed eager to talk, and I was eager to learn.
“What do you know about the Shadow Court?” I asked bluntly.
If I’d thought I’d catch him off guard, I was mistaken. “Only what they’ve wanted known,” the man said with a genteel shrug. “Their money is old, but everything else about them is new, which is curious. They want to give the impression they’ve been around long enough to deserve respect, not merely to buy it, but they’ve given no indication as to why. In part, that’s a good thing. Other groups would simply end enough lives to make a splash, but the Shadow Court seems to be playing a subtler game. To what end, though, we don’t know.”
“Who are they?” I pressed. “Do you know the principals?”
“Again, only those who have been set up in public roles. If you mean the house of Fuggeren, certainly they are the bankers of the organization. They have been bankers to the powerful and arcane since the Middle Ages. But as to decision makers…” The manager waved an elegant hand. “Doubtful. We’re watching the entire family, of course.”
“Consider watching them with a little more interest,” Kreios said. “The Court is close to making an important move. That movement may not involve dead bodies, and it may or may not involve the pile of money that’s been circulating, but it’s possible it will involve both.”
“Well, then,” the manager said, his eyes flashing with the renewed interest of the inveterate gossip. “You do manage to keep things interesting.”
