Blackjack Magic Murder (The Dead Ex Files Book 3)

by Claire Kane

  Lacey raised an eyebrow. “Children?”

  “The tigers,” Zigmund said tersely. “You wouldn’t understand, but don’t dare to mock us.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Lacey said, turning to meet his eyes. They traded stares for a protracted moment, then he grunted and refilled his glass. He stooped and fished a bottle of white wine and a snifter from under the counter, then poured Lacey a measured glass of the stuff. For his part, he was courteous enough to bring it to her. She met him halfway and accepted the glass graciously. He surprised her with a grudging smile, and she found he was actually quite handsome when he did. Not as handsome as his brother, but still...

  “Perhaps,” Ross said, “we could arrange a time to simply visit you at your room? Privacy here is scarce, even in this, our private lounge. You are staying here in the Illusion, ja?”

  Lacey fought down a blush. “No, actually, but I might be able to arrange—”

  “Well, where are you staying, Fräulein?” Zigmund interrupted.

  Lacey gasped quietly and shot him a reproving look. He didn’t seem to care. “I was about to say I could arrange a meeting room with the front desk, and we could use that instead.”

  “Afraid of having world-famous entertainers visit your private hotel room?” Zigmund asked, seeming amused. “We’ve got ample practice with magic tricks, including ones that make people disappear.” He smiled wickedly and added, “We’d be happy to… demonstrate them as part of an interview.”

  Lacey stiffened. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’re not. Trust me—I’ve handled far more frightening things than men like you.” She took a casual sip of her drink, just to prove the point.

  Zigmund stepped forward, towering over her with his dark, entrancing eyes, and Lacey felt something move through her. Something just as dark and oddly powerful. She told herself it was just his cologne. “Fräulein—then perhaps you do not know me very well.”

  “Zig,” Ross said, in a tone of clear warning.

  A knock at the door made Lacey flinch, but whatever spell Zigmund had been trying to cast on her—assuming that was what he was doing—was broken. “Come,” Ross said calmly. A stage hand rushed in, wearing a headset and holding a clipboard, and began a rapid-fire conversation with Ross.

  Zigmund gave Lacey a long, appraising look, which she endured calmly, then half-smiled and returned to the wet bar. “Sit down, please, Fräulein Ling,” he said, sounding much less threatening. “Enjoy your drink. You have passed my little test.”

  Heck of a way to treat a guest, Lacey thought sourly. “And you passed mine,” she replied lightly. That earned a surprised look.

  “Women flock to me, Fräulein Ling,” he said. “I have already passed the test of untold ladies across the world.” He loosed his cape and hung it on a peg, then undid the top two buttons on his shirt, giving her a glimpse of well-muscled, well-oiled chest. “And yet, you come here and stare me down. I find that intriguing and attractive. This interview of yours must be quite important. Tell me, what is it you wish to know?”

  Lacey inhaled, collecting her thoughts. How to best go about this? Cathy’s instructions had been a little unusual, the subject matter strange. She favored a direct approach, but didn’t know the men well enough to trust that they’d give her a straight answer if she did. So she started with a softball. “How long have the two of you been together?”

  “We are brothers,” Zigmund replied flatly. “We have been together since I was born.”

  “So you’re the younger brother?” Lacey began making notes.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?”

  “Meaning, Fräulein, that we have a common father with unfortunate timing in his indiscretions. Hence our different surnames. I was forced to keep our father’s name.”

  “Ah.”

  “Would you care to pry further into our personal lives? The National Inquisitor seems happy to.”

  Lacey swallowed a lump of shame, hoping it hadn’t shown. “I’m sorry. I had no intentions of embarrassing—”

  “The shame belongs to our father alone. We are brothers, Pietr and I, and that is all that matters. The old man has already reaped his wild oats.” He shook his head and scowled, then shrugged. “Continue your interrogation.”

  Lacey chewed her lip, contemplating her path forward. “Let me rephrase my original question. For how long have you been practicing magic together?”

  A shadow moved across Zigmund’s face, but it passed quickly, and he adopted a casual air. “Once, in our little village in Germany, a traveling show passed through. Pietr and I were just boys, then, and the act caught our attention. We were poor, you see, so any sense of the wondrous drew us in, ja?”

  Lacey nodded.

  “So we started reading any books we could find on magic. We thought that if we could do tricks, we could have a traveling show of our own. We would roam the country entertaining people, and use our talents to work our way out of the poverty our father inflicted on us.

  “We started with small tricks in the schoolyard. The other children would give us pfennigs—what you Americans would call ‘pennies’—and we would take them home to show our mothers. They were always so proud of us, and encouraged us.

  “But you can’t pay bills on pfennigs. We needed something more. The rest, as they say, is history. And,” he leaned forward and locked eyes with Lacey, “the best show is yet to come.”

  Lacey raised an eyebrow, tapped out a note, and nodded. “And, what did this ‘magic’ entail?”

  Ross cleared his throat abruptly, and Zigmund glanced at him, his eyes narrowing. He smiled at Lacey then waved for her to stand. “I’m sorry, Fräulein, but my brother just informed me we are needed elsewhere.”

  “Yes,” Ross said, stepping up to help Lacey from the couch. “Our sincerest apologies. But we would still love to entertain you and your questions. Please, again, which room are you staying in? We will bring chaperones if it makes you feel any better.”

  Lacey swallowed again. “I’m… actually staying in a motel on the south end of the Strip. I’ll get a meeting room here in the Illusion, and—”

  “Did you say ‘motel’?” Ross asked, eyes wide.

  Lacey paused, then nodded. “Yes.”

  “As in, ‘small, inexpensive room rentals that people book through their car insurance companies in order to save money’?”

  Lacey’s face grew hot, and she lashed out without thinking. “I didn’t know where I would be staying until I arrived here. I’m sorry if it’s not fancy enough for your tastes.” She cleared her throat, then glanced away. Contending with them wouldn’t help the case. “Excuse me. Where were we?” she added, “I shouldn’t let my pride get the better of me.”

  Ross laughed, but Zigmund glowered. “Not at all. I apologize if I was out of line, Fräulein,” the golden-haired man said. He was rather handsome and, rather unprofessionally, she felt a strange attraction. “Or,” he went on, “may I call you Lacey?”

  Lacey started, taken aback. “That will be fine,” she said.

  “Lacey, then. Something as lovely as you should not be confined to some motel. We treat our animals better than that, despite what some people may say. Come with me. Zig and I have some clout with the hotel management. We will arrange proper accommodations that will showcase you the way you deserve.”

  Lacey paused in surprise. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I’m taking care of my aged grandmother, and so I go where she goes.”

  Both the magicians stared blankly at her for several seconds, then burst into laughter. Ross said, finally recovering, “Do you think us still boys playing with pfennigs? Of course we wouldn’t separate you and your oma like that. Where is she? I’ll send my personal assistant with you to get her, and Ziggy’s assistant will make the arrangements.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Zigmund grumbled. Ross just smiled in return.

  “I’m not sure what to say,” Lacey said. Accepting a gift fr
om those connected to the case, even in the form of a safe and comfortable suite, didn’t feel totally right. She tried to explain. “I’m afraid I’m here on business. You two barely know me, and vice versa…” She paused, reconsidering. Perhaps accepting the offer would bring her closer to the case. Besides, any good sleuth knew that investigations sometimes took on unlikely strategies. “But it is a tempting offer…” Her eyebrows perked.

  “Then at least be gracious in accepting it,” Zigmund said flatly.

  “Zig,” Ross chided. Addressing Lacey, he added, “This is a rare treat. Consider it our pleasure.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Zigmund muttered again, but when Lacey glanced his way, he gave her a sincere smile. She wasn’t sure what to make of him, but the personal assistant arrived shortly, and Lacey was whisked away to find Nainai.

  SEVEN

  “Jessica Simcox—demon slayer,” Victor’s ex-ex girlfriend reached out her hand to shake. Victor squeezed her ethereal hand, and a warmth of righteousness radiated in his palm. The glint in her green eyes, however, showed she was dead serious.

  “So… you’re like Buffy,” Victor said, squinting a bit.

  “Vampires aren’t real,” Jessica simply said, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Of course. But you have blond hair and a cool leather jacket like Buffy. By the way, I didn’t know Heaven had a trendy mall. Where did you get that anyway?”

  “Enough stupid questions.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Do you want to know how to fight Legion or not?”

  “Yes, I want to learn.” To Victor’s great relief, Lacey had been moved out of the roach motel she’d been given and set up in The Illusion, which was both located in a nice area and had hotel security. That allowed Victor enough confidence in her safety that he could take some time away to improve his angelic skills. Besides, his feline spirit guide basically mandated it.

  He turned to look out at the Strip from his vantage point atop The Wynn hotel and casino. It was nighttime. The glittering neon lights were out in their full glory. Part of it reminded Victor of his time in Tokyo, his last days alive and dating Lacey. But pockets of black hovered and flew around the busy streets, stealing his attention back to his lesson at hand.

  He turned to Jessica, who was evidently sizing up where to start. Moonlight filtered through her spirit, lighting her with a mystical aura. She looked strong, confident. Not like the last time he’d seen her in Spirit Prison—Heaven’s waiting place for those not yet assigned to Heaven or Hell.

  “I’m happy for you,” he said.

  She eyed him curiously.

  “You made it to Heaven.” He gave a small smile.

  Touched, her gaze lingered on his for a long moment. “Yeah, well thanks for putting a good word in with The Big Guy.”

  He smiled and shrugged. “No problem. Because of you, we were pointed in the right direction for solving the last case.”

  Jessica nodded, then turned her attention to The Illusion. Victor wondered how Lacey’s interview was going. “See that swarm?” The blond demon slayer pointed to the sidewalk out front.

  He did see. What looked like a swirling black fog hovered dangerously around a female street performer. “Yes.”

  “Let’s go.”

  In the next second they had transported to a spot among the crowd of onlookers. The cluster of Legion was even larger than it had looked a moment ago, and Victor had to fight down a spike of panic. Despite what Rao had taught him, the dark ones still made him nervous, especially after—he shut off the memory of his recent failure and near damnation. Knowing that Rao wouldn’t lie to him, he figured Jessica must have some plan of attack. Still, he kept his distance from the demons as he waited for Jessica’s orders. The dark ones, for their part, kept their aggression to mere hissing and growling the few times he caught their eyes.

  “Do you want to see a real magic show?” the street performer asked in a gravelly voice. “Not like the wannabes who perform pyrotechnic tricks with cats.” She got a few cheers and some racy catcalls.

  Victor scanned the woman for the first time, but had a hard time seeing her clearly through the twisting veil of darkness. Despite her voice, she didn’t look a day over twenty-five, if he had to guess. But the dark, dramatic makeup and her black mane, wildly hairsprayed into what looked like a cobwebby mess, made it hard to tell. “Goth on steroids,” Victor muttered, cringing with distaste.

  “Yes, she needs a major makeover,” Jessica answered flatly.

  “She needs more than that.”

  The magician held up her hands for silence and in a sultry voice announced, “For my first trick, I’ll levitate. No, not a measly four inches off the sidewalk. It will be unlike anything you’ve ever seen. I promise you that.”

  Victor could read the crowd’s skepticism, though the few children seemed actually excited. He hurried to their parents and, as clearly as he could, told them to protect their children and leave the show. Only one couple took his advice. The other parents mentally shrugged, and looked on, one father even laughing as his young daughter clapped wildly as she sat on his shoulders. None of the spectators seemed to have the slightest inkling that creatures from Hell were practically using her as a puppet, to the point of dictating her chilling smile. Victor felt disgust.

  “See,” Jessica said quietly, almost ashamed, “that’s the kind of thing I was dealing with when I was alive, but didn’t know it. Only my demons were vanity and willful ignorance. I didn’t realize, until I died, just how insecure I’d been throughout my life. I was never very smart, so I turned to my looks to get me by. It always made a sick sort of sense. After I died, I woke up to find myself surrounded by those… things.” She gestured at the dark beings.

  “I knew I’d bought their lies, and that it had ruined me. Because I listened to them, I spent the last fifteen years of my life wondering whether I was pretty enough, or sexy enough, or how I could use my body to get what I wanted.”

  Victor bit his lip, as an insight floated into his mind. “And when you couldn’t hold onto me, that hit you really hard, didn’t it?”

  Jessica swallowed and her eyes misted slightly. “You were such a good guy that I knew I didn’t deserve you, but wanted you anyway... even if I didn’t know what I’d do with you. I tried so hard to hold onto you. But… it was all a lie.” She looked away, her shame plain on her face. Victor embraced her, holding her gently until her grief ebbed.

  When the moment ended, she composed herself and looked straight into his eyes. “I hated them at first, but I had to let go of my hate to be worthy to finally meet my baby.”

  Victor nodded, recalling how Jessica had been murdered only months after she’d conceived for the first time. He was grateful her killer had been… dealt with. From the corner of his eye, Victor could see the magician’s show underway amid a whirlwind of evil spirits. Instinctively, he took another step back.

  “I took up this line of work,” Jessica said, “to free others from the trap I lived and died in. And so, I’m a demon slayer. Some people prefer the term ‘avenging angel.’”

  Victor cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve been dead longer than you have. I just barely made guardian angel a few months back. How are you so confident in handling these things?” He pointed at the performer, disturbed at the woman’s vacant eyes. “Rao’s shown me how to keep my head above water, but…”

  The blonde shrugged. “I got a spirit guide tailored to me, just as you did. Your life wasn’t filled with lies, so your murder didn’t have the same amount of trauma in the aftermath. My spirit guide was right there beside me the moment I passed. We had to fight our way out of that alley; I didn’t even have time to watch my killer haul my body away. Guess I was a quicker learner than I knew, once I started worrying more about using my brain instead of my boobs.”

  Victor raised his eyebrow. “You know, you’ve really grown up now that you’re dead.”

  Jessica’s gaze bored into him. “Yes. I’m finally free, and I feel more alive now than
I ever did before.” She glanced over her shoulder at where tourists were applauding and taking pictures as the gothic performer floated a full five feet above the sidewalk. Victor grimaced, disturbed that the demons had so much power over her that they could physically move her; that was a bad sign all on its own. Worse, the members of Legion had quietly begun surrounding many of those who watched, including the man who had his daughter on his shoulders.

  Jessica turned back to Victor with a lopsided smile and a glint in her eyes. “Like you said, this lady could use more than a makeover. And those people are clueless. So, are we going to do this or what?”

  Victor nodded. “Sure, but… aren’t you going to give me any tips?”

  Jessica cocked an eyebrow. “Rao already did. That’s why she was okay sending you my way. Just don’t give in to anger or despair, and you should be fine.”

  “But—” She was gone before he could get another word out.

  It was clear Jessica wasn’t kidding about the “avenging angel” thing. Victor found he could only stare as she blasted through the wall of dark ones at frightening speeds, cutting off their chaotic dance and scattering them, wailing. Deprived of her supernatural support, the magician yelped as she was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. The crowd laughed and cheered, and the woman managed to pass off her fall as part of the act. The dark ones who had turned their attention to the unwitting spectators continued to cling to them, sending chilling and vile thoughts into their minds. Victor cringed at the rabid demands of the demons clutching the man with the little girl, and his stomach lurched when he felt the man’s mental defenses begin to cave in.

  That did it.

  He bolted directly for the man, tackling two of the demons that were leeching his morality away. The demons only barely managed to react as he hurled them into the concrete, wishing pain on them. “You do not mess with little kids,” he growled, as he spun and drilled a fist into the face of another monster.