by Kresley Cole
Special Skills: Healing and training animals.
Weapons: Beastly predators.
Tableau: A delicate girl in a white robe controlling the gaping jaws of a lion.
Icon: Paw print.
Unique Arcana Characteristics: Has claws and fangs. Her eyes turn red when she mingles her senses with a creature's.
Before Flash: High school student and animal trainer, living in the compound of an eccentric billionaire.
Crazycakes' Crib
Day 0
"I'm dead meat," I muttered when I smelled blood in the boss's menagerie. "Just kill me now." The animals were going nuts!
They'd been acting weird for days, but now they chewed at their enclosures, head-butted the walls of their pens, and dug in a frenzy. Even passive animals fought.
Rabbits in a death match. What the hell?
If they kept this up, we were going to lose stock . Probably had already. The smell of blood made me light-headed.
I yanked my phone out of my jeans pocket and called my dad. His line rang. And rang. Voice mail.
I frowned. He always picked up, because he knew how freaked out I would get if he didn't.
Four years ago, Mom had deserted us. My first clue? She hadn't answered when I'd called for a ride home from school. She'd never answered.
I left a message for my dad: "The animals are freaking out for some reason. We've got mass injuries, and I need your help. Please come home. Love you." I texted: HELP! Animals injured. Where r u?
The menagerie was as big as an arena, housing hundreds of creatures. How to calm them all down? I spun in circles. I needed one-on-one time to work my magic. Not one-on-hundreds!
I could medicate some, hose others, but I'd never get to the majority in time.
More blood, more growls, more damage. I spun faster, yelling, "EVERYBODY CHILL THE HELL OUT!"
Quiet. I stilled, gazing around. Animals stared at me from all sides with wide eyes, motionless.
Damn, I was good.
Time to triage this crisis. I popped a crick in my neck on the way to the nearest line of pens. I did spot assessments, but found injuries everywhere.
Maybe the boss wouldn't notice we were light a few dozen animals. As I combed through the enclosures along the north side, I swallowed with fear at the thought of explaining this to Mr. Deth. He wasn't cruel or anything, just really intimidating.
Partly because he was rich as all get out (like, Richie Rich), even though he was only in his early twenties.
Partly because he was drop-dead gorgeous. I mean, absolutely to-die-for with his light blond hair, tanned face, and vivid amber eyes.
And partly because he was crazy. . . .
No fatal wounds on the north side! I hurried down the west one. We'd lost one of three bandicoots, and a roo had a broken tail--
I stopped dead in my tracks. The cougars had chewed their cage open! Those four were like freaking velociraptors! Only not as friendly.
So where were they?
I heard a snarl on the south wall of pens and ran like a bat out of hell. "Shit, shit!" I skidded to a halt in front of the wolf habitat.
The two adults had been shredded, their bodies lifeless in the sawdust. They'd died to protect their pups.
The cougars had cornered the three. The pups cowered, whimpering, blood all over them. Ah, God, the little runt was missing an eye.
One cougar had its paw raised for a killing blow.
I didn't think; I ran into the middle of the clash. The cougar swiped my leg, snarling its fury.
"Oh, you dick! Get out!"
The four swished their tails. They clearly had no intention of giving up their prey. I swallowed with fear.
Then I remembered: I was Lark Inukai. I defanged killers. I found their weaknesses and exploited them ruthlessly.
I focused on the sole female, staring her down. To the males, it'd look like I'd singled her out for attack. I drew my lips back from my teeth, and growled at her.
The three males blinked, tails going still. They wouldn't want to lose their only babe.
"OUT! NOW!"
They jolted, spinning in midair to beeline back to their cage. "That's right, assholes!"
Exhaling a breath, I knelt beside the pups. Their own blood matted their fur. They needed a vet to patch them up. Call me, Dad!
"Come here, little guys." I examined them as best as I could, assessing their wounds. I thought they would live, but muscles had been severed, their skin slashed open. One's face was clawed up. The runt would be half-blind. "Guess I'll call you Cyclops, huh?"
My own eyes watered, and I tumbled back on my ass. Two wolves dead on my watch, and three pups injured. The pack had been decimated. Not to mention all the other animals.
The pups licked my bleeding wound, their way of showing care. "I appreciate the gesture, little guys, but I'll be okay. Come on, let's get you out of here." I wanted them away from their dead sire and dam.
I picked up the three and headed toward an empty pen. "Here we go." I gently set them down, then locked them in, steeling myself when they whimpered in panic. "I've gotta check on everybody. I'll be back soon."
I hurried past the fourth wall of enclosures. We'd lost more animals, but every other injury could keep for now.
The wolves would get priority. I would clean their wounds and administer a sedative/painkiller. As I headed to the supply room, I pulled my phone out, trying Dad again.
He was going to be so disappointed by all this. He made a habit of underpromising and overdelivering with the boss.
Still no answer? Panic bubbled up. No, no, Dad was just out of a service area. Between towers.
Calm yo tits, Lark. He would never abandon me.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket. Tonight was going to be a long one.
Damn it, how had I ended up in this situation? I'd barely believed it when Dad had sold his practice and taken this job. Granted, his ginormous salary wasn't exactly chicken feed, but I'd had a life: school, friends, my training business. I'd had to give up everything because of Mr. Deth.
Dad genuinely liked the dude. He'd told me he'd never met a smarter--or lonelier--man.
I could see both. The boss had never had a visitor out to this isolated compound. The only calls he got were about supply shipments. If his phone rang, he never glanced down at a number and smiled as he answered. In fact, I'd never seen him smile at all.
His solitude had confused me. He was rich and hot, tall with a great body, and he had this really cool accent. Latvian or something. Which explained the weird-ass last name.
I'd told him once, "Your name sounds like death, as in dying."
His face had been completely expressionless as he'd said, "Does it, then?"
I'd wondered why he was alone--until he'd hinted that the Big One was coming. He was fortifying his mountain compound for some catastrophe.
Everything had begun to make sense. He's a crazycakes prepper. His insanity had kept him from finding friends or a girlfriend. He probably had a germ phobia too; dude wore gloves at all times.
I turned the corner--and almost ran into him. My breath strangling in my throat, I craned my head up to meet his gaze. "You scared me!" I was as nervous as a cat on hot bricks. "Uh, what's shaking, Boss?"
"We must return to the castle. A storm is coming."
Weird. "I'll be there in a sec. There's been a little, uh, situation"--bloodbath--"with the animals." How was I going to worm my way out of this?
"Yes, I scent the blood and death. But that doesn't matter. We return. Now." He grabbed my elbow, startling me.
"Um, the cougars aren't totally secured. And there're some injuries that need tending." My little wolves . . .
"Later." He steered me toward the exit.
Outside, a hot wind blew, so different from the cool breezes we normally got up here. Then I nearly stumbled. The sky was alight with gorgeous streams of color. Even the boss paused, staring up at the sight.
My concern for the animals f
aded as I lost myself in those lights. I murmured, "God, they're so beautiful."
"Beautiful?" He started dragging me to the castle. "Remember: beautiful means we must turn away."
But I couldn't! I never wanted to turn away. "I need to look at them a little while longer. Please, Boss!"
He forced me inside. I was tempted to slip past him for another peek, but he pressed some buttons on a wall keypad.
Whirring sounded all around us. It took a moment to register--he was closing the shutters over the windows and the doors! How would I get out? "Why are you battening down? I have to go check on the animals as soon as possible."
"The menagerie will be protected against whatever approaches."
The little hairs on my nape rose. "What's approaching?"
"A catastrophe."
Crazycakes! "Like the Big One?" My situation grew brutally clear. I was trapped in a mountaintop fortress with a madman. "Uh, I really need to get in touch with my dad."
"Be my guest." He waved one gloved hand. "Tell him to turn away from the light and seek immediate shelter."
I yanked out my phone, hitting redial. Pick up, Dad, please pick up! Voice mail. Dialed him again.
I'd just stowed my phone when my vision dimmed--and dimmed some more--until I couldn't see at all. "Oh, God, what's happening??" I blinked over and over. Suddenly, I could see again from within the menagerie. I cried, "What is going on?" Across the central pen, I caught sight of the pups. The three were growing before my eyes, their wounds healing over and scarring.
They were massive, bigger than any wolf I'd ever seen. "I-I think I'm going crazy!"
"Fauna, stay calm," Boss said. "This is to be expected."
I blinked. Hard. And again. As quickly as my vision had gone wonky, it was restored. I stared at Mr. Deth. "Who the hell is Fauna?"
"You melded your senses with one of your creatures. You saw through the eyes of an animal."
"A) What are you talking about? And, B) What I saw can't be happening."
"What did you see?"
"The wolf pups were growing. They were . . . huge."
He glanced down at my injured leg. "Did they happen to taste your blood?"
I nodded.
He raised a brow. "That was unexpected. Yes, the trio will become quite large."
"Why? What does this have to do with my blood?"
"Come with me," he said, heading to the security room. I hesitantly followed. "Sit." He pointed to a chair in front of the camera feeds from around the castle.
I perched on the edge of the seat. "You've gotta tell me what's going on 'cause I'm about to freak out."
With his gaze on the screens, he said, "The trump cards of a Tarot deck--the Major Arcana--are real. You are Strength. Also known as Fauna."
Why did that sound so . . . right?
"I am the Death Card."
"Like y-your last name? Deth?"
He shook his head. "Like the Grim Reaper."
A low roar buzzed in my ears. He sounded so far away as he continued his wackadoodle explanation:
". . . twenty-two players in a lethal game . . . reincarnated every few centuries . . . special powers individual to each card . . . out to smite one another . . . deadly killers with but one aim."
He must be mad as a March hare, with bats in the belfry. Yet I felt as if puzzle pieces were clicking into place.
" . . . give me loyalty, and I will teach you much about the game, as if your own family had chronicled. And I will let you live longer than the others."
"Whoa." Let me live? "Are you saying . . . does that mean you're gonna kill me?" What a stupid question; how many murderers would ever admit that?
In his deep, accented voice, he told me, "Yes, Fauna. In time, I will take your life." He was calmly telling me he'd gank me. "You might have a couple of years left before then. Perhaps you'll make it out of your teens. I haven't decided yet."
He sounded so confident that I nearly puked with fear.
The roar grew louder. Not just in my ears?
Death fell silent, cocking his head. "It begins at the end. The reckoning comes."
"My dad is out there!"
"Yes."
An explosion of brightness lit up the screens; the castle rocked. The cameras cut out, leaving only static.
_______________
I was curled up and crying in my bed, terrified for Dad--and for myself. Some catastrophe was happening out there, which meant Death had been right all along about the Big One.
I believed him about the game. I believed he would kill other kids one by one until he finally got to me.
I believed I might never see my dad's patient smile again. Had I lost both of my parents? Though I hated my mom, I didn't want her to die. In these terrifying hours, I'd even tried her old number. Not that any of my calls had connected.
Dad, please be safe. Please come back. Some crazy dude wants to murder me.
How could this be happening? What if Dad made it back, but Death had already ganked me? I buried my face in my pillow to muffle my scream. Then I remembered something.
I was Lark freaking Inukai. I sat up, swiping my tears away. I defanged killers. I defused their aggression. I found out their weaknesses and exploited them ruthlessly.
You don't know me, Death.
Every dangerous creature had a weakness. I would find his. If we were supposed to play to win, I would dominate.
You don't know me at all. . . .
The Hermit (IX)
Arthur, Master of Alchemy
"A wise man in the guise of a boy."
A.k.a.: The Alchemist
Powers: Hyperintelligence, hypercognition, chemistry savant, guile. Potioner and elixirs master.
Special Skills: Acting normal.
Weapons: Pain potions, acid grenades, scalpel.
Tableau: An aged, cloaked man holding a lantern in the dark.
Icon: A glowing lantern.
Unique Arcana Characteristics: Appears elderly when using his powers.
Before Flash: Escalating kidnapper and serial killer.
Fortune (X)
Azara "Zara" Bonifacio Felix, Our Lady of Chance
"Where she stops, nobody knows."
A.k.a.: Lady Luck, the Luck Thief, Fluke
Powers: Luck absorption. Can impart misfortune (increasing her own luck) and steal luck through touch.
Special Skills: Expert pilot, trained combat fighter, markswoman.
Weapons: Helicopters. Firearms used in aerial assaults.
Tableau: A girl standing in the center of a huge spinning wheel. A sphinx runs on top of it and a dragon clings to the bottom while ancient clay dice rain down from a night sky.
Icon: Wheel.
Unique Arcana Characteristics: Eyes and veins turn purple when she establishes a luck conduit.
Before Flash: Brazilian heiress to Dragao Novo, the largest turbine helicopter manufacturer in Sao Paulo State (the civilian helicopter capital of the world).
Sao Paulo, Brazil
Day 0
Kicked back at my father's desk, I daydreamed about my new flamethrower and took in the view from his office's floor-to-ceiling glass wall. The city streets sprawled below.
He should be finished soon with the group of Japanese investors. He'd wanted me to join him in the conference room, but I had heard his sales pitch a thousand times: "In Sao Paulo, kidnappings among the wealthy have become a way of life. Here, we live in armored, guarded penthouses and travel by helicopter from one tower to the next. If the same happens in your city, will you be ready?"
Yes, there were kidnappings here; my own mother had been murdered during an abduction. Yes, our copters sold like crazy. But he might be overplaying the facts a touch.
Most traveled via copter to escape the miserable traffic.
His fearmongering worked for me. Nobody benefited from Dragao's sales like I did. Money enabled me to buy things like flamethrowers.
God, I loved fire.
"Where is your mind, daug
hter?" Papai asked, smiling at me from his office door. Behind him, his assistant ushered the investors toward the rooftop helipad. One of our pilots would fly them out.
I rose to give Papai his seat back, then hopped up on the corner of his desk. "I was thinking about my trip. I leave tonight."
He sank into his chair. "Or you could shadow me at work this week instead."
We'd had this talk repeatedly. He wanted me to concentrate on our business. At twenty-three, I was a skilled pilot, a crack shot, and a trained fighter, but I wouldn't know a spreadsheet if it came at me with a machete. "I have a solid lead on the Oliveras." Once I located their hideout, I would torch it with my new toy.
When I was eleven, they'd killed my mother. I'd been hunting them for the last year, ever since I'd come into my Dragao stock shares. With money, I'd funded more training, weapons, and a crew.
My life had been shaped by revenge, and I possessed the ideal temperament for it. Papai had once said I'd been born bloodthirsty; he wasn't wrong.
Now he exhaled, looking older than his years. He was athletic and fit, but stress beat him down. "How can you keep chasing this vendetta?"
My notorious temper redlined like a straining turbine engine. "How can you not?" Rumor held that Papai had gotten his start as a criminal, running his own crew before he'd married Mamae. If I were him, I'd be drawing on my roots to avenge her. "They murdered your wife. By your reaction, I have to wonder if you loved her at all."
Fury flashed in his eyes. "I worshipped her."
Everyone had. After her passing, my grandmother had died of grief, my grandfather drinking himself into an early grave. The last thing he'd told me: "If you want justice for your mother, you'll have to deliver it yourself." I'd been fourteen.
I would make the Olivera clan pay for all three deaths.
Papai said, "If you continue to go after them, sooner or later they will strike back against my only child and heir. Then I would retaliate, and this war would last forever, until we're all destroyed."
"I wish they would come after me." Even now I had a Glock in a holster on my back and a tactical blade tucked in my boot.
My handpicked crew and I had already taken out two Olivera sons. Now I hunted for the rest of that generation, but especially for Bento Olivera, their father.
He was the one who'd slit my mother's throat--after Papai had paid the ransom.