The Phoenix Illusion

by Lisa Shearin

  I nodded toward the southern horizon where the faintest of glows was visible. “What’s in that direction?”

  Rake’s smile was slow and dangerous. “Vegas, baby.”

  18

  I wasn’t the only one feeling the pull of Sin City.

  Tam and Ben had gone even farther away from camp, and the two had returned with the same conclusion. Ben felt the pull of crystals from the south, and to the south was Las Vegas.

  He’d also felt a crystal come-hither from the east, but it was vague, almost muffled. The signal from Vegas was definitely stronger. Since that was where I’d sensed Marek Reigory, that was where we were going.

  Ian called headquarters to let Alain Moreau know where we were headed and why. He also told him about Ben’s odd signal from the east and asked that he let Kenji know. Maybe it could help him pinpoint those missing buildings.

  Mr. Moreau would arrange for yet another mode of transportation to take us to an airfield outside Las Vegas, where a car would be waiting. If Marek and any cabal members were expecting company, driving into town would be less likely to be noticed.

  It was nearly ten o’clock when we broke camp to hit the road.

  “Why can’t the chopper pick us up here?” I asked as we loaded our gear into the Hummer.

  “Terrain,” Ian told me. “The only clear space is the town’s street, and that’s not wide enough. Everywhere else is too rocky.” He grinned. “Unless you want to get reeled up a zipline.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Besides, we’re ready to move now. By the time they get her fueled and prepped, we’ll be where they are. The chopper will drop us off outside Vegas where the car will be waiting.”

  “To take us where in Vegas?” I asked.

  Ian jerked his head toward Rake. “He’s taking care of that part.”

  I turned to Rake. “To take us where in Vegas?”

  “To a surprise.” He thought for a moment and his lips twitched in a smile. “A strategic surprise.”

  Okaaay.

  *

  When we got underway, Gethen was driving because Rake was holding my hand. It wasn’t for PDA purposes, but as insurance against Marek Reigory sensing me. We knew he was in Las Vegas and didn’t want to send up a signal that we were coming for him. Rake was using a small magic to quiet any seer signals I might be sending out. We didn’t want to risk Marek finding us before we found him.

  “You’ve encountered him twice now,” Rake was saying. “If he knows you’ve identified him, he’ll be on the lookout for you.”

  “Would that be me personally, or just my seer senses?” I asked.

  “It could be both. So, to be on the safe side, let’s keep him from sensing either one.”

  “I wouldn’t describe a psychic right hook and attempted immolation as encounters.”

  “It’s a goblin thing.” Gethen glanced in the rearview mirror at me as he bounced the Jeep across the desert. “In a violent confrontation, if no one dies, it’s only an encounter.”

  I was in the backseat and Rake was in the front passenger seat. He had the seat pushed all the way back, so neither one of us had to contort to hold hands. The other reason why I wasn’t driving was that it was pitch dark, there were no roads, and as a human, I couldn’t see for squat. Ian had mapped our route to where the helicopter would be waiting to take us the hundred miles or so to the airfield outside Las Vegas.

  I’d realized something—aside from the fact that a Jeep is a lot more fun if you’re driving and freakin’ miserable if you’re bouncing around in the backseat. I could totally see a cabal of über evil mages setting up shop in Las Vegas. I mean, who would notice?

  SPI’s office in Las Vegas had less than a dozen agents and no commando team. When she’d expanded SPI’s offices in the 1980s, Ms. Sagadraco had deemed that number sufficient to maintain ears to the wall and loafers on the ground. Our Los Angeles office was as fully staffed as our New York headquarters and was close enough to Vegas in case of an emergency. Las Vegas had a decent-sized supernatural population, most of them in the casinos and shows. Vampires made up the majority, and the mistress of the city did a fine job of keeping order in the ranks. She and Mr. Moreau were friends, and the boss trusted Cassandra du Vien to keep the peace.

  All we knew so far was that Marek Reigory was in town with enough crystals to set off Ben’s alarms. I was only a seer, but I had a sneaking suspicion we were gonna end up calling the LA folks or Madame du Vien for backup.

  *

  The helicopter waiting for us was large, black, and unless my sleep-deprived eyes deceived me, came complete with machine guns mounted on either side.

  Cool. That is, unless Mr. Moreau thought we’d be needing them.

  Ian noticed my apprehension. “We’ll be flying into Nellis. This is one of their birds. SPI has contacts in all the military branches. We’ve scratched their backs, they scratch ours. Help when help is needed.”

  He didn’t elaborate further, and to tell you the truth, the only thing I wanted to know about SPI and black helicopters was could I catch a few winks over the engine noise.

  We got in and took off, and as far as I was concerned, we were flying way too low. It was pretty much all desert below us, but I still thought we were entirely too close to it.

  “This feels like dragon flight, but without the wind in your face,” Tam told us. “My team and I flew from the coast of Aquas inland to Nidaar on battle dragons that were about this size.”

  “How long did it take to get there?” I asked.

  “We left at sunset and arrived shortly after sunrise.”

  Ben gave a low, impressed whistle.

  Flying all night. In the open air. I couldn’t even begin to imagine. Nor did I want to.

  Tam admired the gun outside the window. “Our dragons could breathe fire.”

  “A Black Hawk can breathe Hellfire missiles,” Ian told him.

  “Sounds impressive. What are—”

  “Basically, a tube packed with explosives with a range of almost five miles.”

  “That would be better than dragon fire,” Tam admitted, then his fangs flashed in a quick grin, “but not nearly as much fun.”

  “I’ve never flown a dragon, but I think I’d have to agree with you.”

  “If you visit our world, I could make arrangements.”

  Now it was Ian’s turn to grin. “I just might take you up on that.”

  *

  I just stood there and stared. “This is Moreau’s idea of inconspicuous?”

  Our ride into town was a limo so sleek and so black I could see myself in the paint job.

  “I couldn’t have made a better choice myself,” Rake said. “Think about it. It’s just after midnight in Las Vegas. No one will look twice at us. And if they try, the windows are tinted as dark as the rest of the car.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Complete privacy.”

  “Yeah, if there weren’t four guys in the back with us.”

  Rake leaned in close, his lips at my ear. “My surprise later will remedy the privacy issue.”

  “You keep promising surprises. I’ve told you I don’t like those, right?”

  “You’ve made that abundantly clear on multiple occasions. I consider it a personal challenge to shower you with so many breathtaking surprises that you’ll come to love them.”

  “You say ‘breathtaking’ like it’s a good thing.”

  He nipped my earlobe with his fangs. “Have I ever taken your breath in a bad way?”

  A shiver ran to all my favorite places. “No, you certainly have not. Touché.”

  Rake gave a wicked chuckle. “Touché? I plan to.”

  19

  Rake’s idea of a strategic surprise was the Nobu Villa in the Nobu Hotel at Caesars Palace. We needed to keep a low profile. Rake didn’t do low profiles, at least not of his own free will. Though when you paid what he had to have paid for this place, all the privacy you wanted must have be
en included in the tab.

  I was in a shocked stupor as I tried to take it all in.

  I had no words.

  Rake had plenty. “It’s what we need. It’s near the center of the Strip with views north and south.” He threw open two humongous glass doors leading out onto a terrace that was bigger than the bullpen at SPI HQ.

  My jaw dropped farther.

  “Plus, the rooftop terrace will give you and Ben unobstructed, upper floor, open-air access to the Vegas sky. Marek is here, and you’ll find him.”

  Ian gave me a nudge and showed me his phone’s screen. He’d Googled where we were. He scrolled and I scanned. A 10,500-square-foot, three-bedroom villa with two butlers, and a 4,700-square-foot terrace, all for the low, low price of $35,000 a night.

  Sweet mother of God.

  “It kind of reminds me of the suite from The Hangover,” Ian murmured with a boyish grin seldom seen on my partner. “Only bigger.”

  “But without the wandering chicken,” I noted.

  “And, thankfully, without the tiger in the bathroom,” Ben muttered.

  I gave a quiet snort. “This is Rake we’re talking about. You might want to check the bathrooms first.”

  Rake ignored us and continued, clearly proud of his choice. “We’re at about the midpoint on the Strip, and we’re high enough to give you and Ben a clear shot at whatever signals there are to pick up, and private enough to keep our presence here a secret until we’re ready to kick in Marek’s door.” With a flourish, he threw open the doors to the dining room. “And regardless of the hour, the chefs at Nobu downstairs are at our beck and call. Sushi. anyone?”

  *

  We all passed on the sushi, opting instead to wash off the desert dust and get to work.

  I got a shower in a bathroom that was bigger than my entire apartment, and gave a longing little whimper at a bathtub I could’ve done laps in. The mother of all soaks would have to wait.

  I had a megalomaniacal goblin mage to find.

  It was coming up on two o’clock in the morning. Marek Reigory was a goblin, goblins were nocturnal, and Las Vegas slept even less than New York.

  There wasn’t going to be a better time to find him.

  After my shower, I got dressed in the only extra clothes I’d brought with me: jeans and a henley. I’d done my best to knock the desert dust off my hiking boots. I didn’t think any of us had imagined that we’d end up in Vegas, and definitely not in the Grand Poobah Suite. Well, except for Rake. He was kind of like a goblin James Bond in that respect, and a few others besides. The only luggage he’d brought was a small duffel bag, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a tux rolled up in there. Just in case. Or since he was a mage, maybe the duffel had a direct link to his closets in New York. Kind of like Mary Poppins’s carpet bag.

  After a couple of wrong turns, I found my way out of the master bedroom and to the living room, or whatever it was called here. Everyone else had already gathered. I detected the scent of newly worked magic. Rake and Tam had put a ward on the penthouse similar to what they’d done to our campsite.

  “I take it you’ve fixed it so any mages in town think this place is empty?” I asked Rake.

  “Au contraire, it is occupied, just not by us. Tam and I went with a more mundane disguise, one that would be expected for Las Vegas. Should any mage come snooping, this villa is occupied by a group of rich twenty- and thirty-somethings here for a couple of days that they won’t be able to remember next week.”

  “‘Mundane’ meaning there’s no livestock or jungle cats,” added a freshly shampooed Ben from the sofa. He’d been the first to pass on the sushi, but he’d apparently hit the fully stocked bar. I didn’t know what he was drinking, but I smelled coconut and wanted one.

  Work now, Mac. Drink later.

  “You wanna go first?” I asked him.

  Ben raised his glass. “I’ve already been. This is my celebratory drink.”

  “You hit pay dirt?”

  “For Vegas, more like ‘jackpot.’ No real work necessary. I just opened my senses, and there they were. All we need now is your confirmation.”

  I grunted. “No pressure. How many crystals are here?”

  “A lot. I couldn’t determine the exact number, but the signal was magnitudes stronger than I got from the ones back at headquarters.”

  “They weren’t warded?”

  Ben shook his head. “The crystals weren’t. Reigory might be.”

  “It seems Marek doesn’t know we’re on to him yet,” Rake said. “Or if he knows, that knowledge doesn’t concern him.”

  “Let’s hope for door number one,” I told him. “Did you open the ward for Ben?”

  “For about ten seconds.”

  I headed for the terrace. “Let’s see if I can beat his time.”

  20

  Rake silently followed me outside.

  The noise hit me the instant I opened the terrace doors. You’d think it’d be quiet at two o’clock in the morning, but in Las Vegas, it was prime partying time. The Nobu Hotel had plexiglass mounted around the edges of the terrace to above head level to keep drunken guests from taking an inadvertent swan dive into whatever was below. I had no intention of looking down to find out.

  Our villa was far from the highest hotel room in town, but Rake was right, it provided an excellent view both up and down the Strip. Most important for our purposes, it was open-air.

  I went to the corner of the terrace with the best view.

  Just down from Caesars Palace was the Bellagio with its giant marquee out front advertising its Cirque du Soleil show. As I said, Las Vegas was a vampire town; not surprising, really. It woke up at night, and the Cirque du Soleil shows in hotels up and down the Strip used vampires’ preternatural grace and beauty to the max. People had always been amazed at how humans could move, contort, or balance like that. There were a few mortals among the casts, and a sprinkling of other supernaturals, but most were vampires. They made a killing in this town, so to speak.

  Rake stopped a few feet behind me. “I’ll move the ward back just enough to leave you exposed.”

  “Gee, you make that sound safe.”

  “It’s not, and I don’t like it.”

  “I get that impression.”

  “This is no joke. He’s dangerous, Makenna.”

  “I got that impression, too.”

  “Work fast. The ward is right behind you. If he senses you, just take one step back, and you’ll be safe. And if he tries anything, I’m here—and the gloves come off.”

  I gave a single nod and focused my seer senses on the Strip. Rake smoothly pulled the ward back, and I was suddenly alone as if he and the others no longer existed.

  Normally, I’d close my eyes for what I was about to do. Not here and not now. I relaxed as best as I could and simply went still, opening my senses to the psychic scent I’d come to know as Marek Reigory. If he had shielded himself like Rake and Tam had protected us, I either wouldn’t be able to sense him at all, or getting a fix on his location would be tricky at best, unless he…

  There.

  I swallowed a squeak, and all but fell back through the ward.

  Rake didn’t ask if I’d found him, it was obvious that I had. He quickly pushed the ward back against the plexiglass. “He’s close?”

  “Very.” I shuddered from head to toe, just like I had in the desert, but it was worse this time. I gave a weak laugh. “Who needs to use seer senses? I just need to wait for a big ol’ wave of the heebie-jeebies.” I shuddered again.

  “Did he sense you?”

  “I don’t think so.” I thought for a moment. “No. No, he didn’t.”

  Rake stepped up to the glass, his eyes intent on the Strip below. “Where is he?”

  I nodded toward the north, beyond the Bellagio next door. “That way.”

  “Distance?”

  “Less than a mile.”

  “That’s what Ben said. That means Mar
ek’s staying with the crystals. Good.”

  My shivers finally stopped. “One-stop shopping,” I managed.

  “Just the way I like it. Do you have a fix on him?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Rake flashed a predatory smile. “Let’s take a drive down the Strip and do a little sightseeing.”

  *

  I thought Rake and I and maybe Gethen would go.

  Silly me.

  There was no way Ian was letting me go anywhere without him. Ben wanted to double-check his own findings, and apparently when Tam had retired from being a royal magical enforcer, he’d gone into the nightclub and casino business back home, and now owned several. Tam wanted to see more, more, more of Las Vegas.

  Thankfully, the limo and driver were available. I guess when you dropped thirty-five grand a night on a hotel room, the amenities just kept coming.

  It was Friday night—actually, Saturday morning—and the Strip was nearly bumper-to-bumper. Mr. Moreau had been right about a limo being inconspicuous. As we headed north, nearly a fourth of the vehicles cruising the Strip were limos. There was one aspect that made ours stand out like a sore thumb. We were one of the few without people in various stages of inebriation standing up through the sunroof or hanging out the windows and waving an assortment of bottles, glasses, or red Solo cups. And from what my ears were telling me, the near universal vocalization was “Wooooo!” It was a good thing our windows were up and tinted, though. If the bachelorette party in the limo next to us had gotten a gander of the guys I was riding around with…

  “Are we shielded?” Ben was asking.

  “As soon as we got in,” Rake assured him. “If Marek knows we’re here, all he’ll get from this limo is six friends on their way back to their hotel, too drunk to stand up through the sunroof.”

  “Works for me.”

  “We’re getting closer,” I told them. “It’s just on the other side of the next hotel on the right. Ben?”

  “That’s what I got.”