Blackjack Magic Murder (The Dead Ex Files Book 3)

by Claire Kane

  “We’re definitely channeling her,” Jessica said. “Please maintain your focus.”

  Victor read about—and saw—Chanel as a child. Adorable, innocent, loving. Then, he saw her grow into her teen years, noticing that she blossomed very early. Things began to get ugly from there. A broken home. An abusive stepfather. Drugs and alcohol. Things he didn’t even want to think about.

  By now, he could see the woman as a young adult, making a living in unsavory ways. Then, in a bright spot, she seemed poised to turn her life around. He saw her at dance school, and her prospects improved. She graduated, toured, and began to be happy again. Then her touring group was shut down, and she lost her job. Her search for a new troupe was unsuccessful, and she began to turn back to her past. She moved to Vegas, and took up dancing at various clubs, using her body for money just as she had before. He could feel her turning herself into an object.

  He watched as Zigmund encountered her, then took her into his show, where she became his object. He felt her infatuation as she fell in love with the German, then her fixation as he bond her to him with more drugs and various favors. She’d totally convinced herself that she loved the man, and then...

  Victor trembled as he saw Chanel’s life go rapidly downhill. “I can’t watch this, Jessica.”

  “Focus, Victor. We’re almost there.”

  “This is horrible.” It had been bad enough with Cindra, but this time there was detail, sensation, as though he were living it himself. He turned his mind away from what he was seeing.

  “Victor. Don’t!”

  “I can’t watch this.”

  A gout of green flame shot from the book, hurling Victor back, pinning him against the rocky wall. Jessica screamed from somewhere beyond his peripheral vision, and a rush of dark mist crackling with sparks and lightning filled the cave. Streams of inky vapor shot everywhere, and deep, ominous laughter echoed around Victor, chilling him.

  Somehow, he could still feel Jessica struggling to press back against it. His mind’s eye caught a vision of her being wrapped in devilish chains and being dragged down into the ground. Unbidden, memories of the good times he had once had with her came to mind. He recalled all the reasons he had once loved her. With that, he found the strength of will to finally envelop himself in a tight, thin bubble of light.

  Calling on Heaven for help, he pressed toward where he thought Jessica was, reaching blindly for her. A feeble ray of light caught his attention, and he lunged for it, and caught hold of Jessica’s hand, and dragged her up with all his might. They clung desperately to one another. Jessica steered them back to what Victor assumed was the cave entrance. Fire, smoke, and lightning flowed around them, defying all goodness as it sought freedom in the world. Whenever his concentration would slip, a shard of darkness would slip in and pierce him, making it all the harder to concentrate. He felt he was being slowly eroded away by a million pieces of sandpaper. Yet the pair of angels pushed blindly forward until, at last, they stumbled upwards, finally emerging in the meat locker again. Or, at least, he hoped it was the meat locker.

  “Help me close the hatch,” Jessica called over the chaos. Victor nodded, and turned his thoughts to the supernatural portal separating the mortal plane from that section of the Underworld. Though he could barely see it through the writhing smoke, he felt it in his mind and, with outstretched hands, willed it to close. Straining with everything he had, he and Jessica shoved down hard against the torrent of evil until, at last, the hatch latched closed with a satisfying “click” that was a more beautiful sound to Victor than the Heavenly choirs.

  He collapsed on his back, frustrated that he could no longer pant and sweat, but grateful to still be intact. “We’re alive.”

  Jessica appeared above him, relief, fear, and concern dancing in her eyes. “But who knows how many demons have escaped into the world and need to be hunted down? This is why The Book of the Damned is kept under such heavy secrecy,” she said.

  “And yet,” Victor replied, “we got to it with barely any effort.”

  She looked away, stricken, and he wondered where her sudden guilt came from. He got to his feet and tried to meet her gaze, but she wouldn’t let him. “What aren’t you telling me, Jessica?” He searched her thoughts, but she somehow managed to dodge them, keeping her mind blurry. “How did you know where to find The Book, and how to get to it?”

  For the first time since he’d seen her in Spirit Prison, Jessica Simcox looked small and sad. “Can we just not talk about it? I’ve come so far from that time. I have my little boy, now, and life is good. I’m making a difference for good, now, both in Heaven and on Earth. Let’s just bury the past, please?” Her eyes came up, pleading, and Victor felt his heart melt.

  He gave in to the instinct to comfort her, and pulled her to him. She nestled her head on his chest and he stroked her head lovingly. “I never would have pegged you for being so amazing,” he murmured into her hair. She smelled wonderful, and her warmth and softness was a beautiful contrast to the chilling abrasiveness of their recent escape.

  “I’ve tried so hard, Victor,” she said softly. “You don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in... that.”

  He took her meaning.

  “What you did down there was really, really stupid,” she said. “Like, ‘monumentally-destroy-the-world’ stupid.” Victor frowned, and made to reply, but she cut him off. “And yet, here we are. Heaven must have helped us out of that; I know I never would have made it alone. How did you find me down there?”

  He blushed and looked away as the memories of Jessica surfaced again. Her face came up, her eyes wide. “You big, dumb sweetheart,” she said, sounding almost awed. “You were thinking of me.”

  “You were in trouble,” he muttered. Yet, her expression remained, and her eyes wouldn’t leave him. He turned away, feeling awkward.

  “I can’t believe,” she began, “that after all I put you through—”

  The ground heaved violently beneath them, and the hatch snapped open, releasing a long, thin trail of oily smoke. Jessica and Victor whirled immediately, clamping the hatch shut again. Jessica, looking as commanding as he’d ever seen her, raised her hand to the sky, called out a prayer, and then thrust her hand down toward the hatch. Victor leapt back as a column of white flame shot from above and bathed the hatch in righteous fury. When the fire finally dissipated, he saw the hatch outlined in a living glow that burned with a determination that it would not be breached.

  “Well,” Jessica said, sounding both triumphant and strangely disappointed, “I guess no one will ever be using that portal again.

  “So,” he hazarded, “we’re not going for a third take on The Book?”

  “More like a third strike,” she said. “Whatever information you hoped to get from that book is no longer available to us. Only an agent of Heaven can break that seal. And I promise you that none of them are likely to want to do that any time soon.”

  Victor groaned. “Just in case it wasn’t already hard enough to figure out who’s behind Lacey being in jail. I know there was another shooter.”

  A whimper startled them, and they spun to find someone else standing in the freezer with them. A small girl with blond pigtails and a blue cotton dress huddled in a corner, looking terrified as she clutched a strange stuffed animal.

  “Oh, how cute,” Jessica said, bringing her hands to her heart. “Aren’t you just the most adorable thing?” She crossed to the little girl and knelt before her. “Where did you come from, sweetheart?”

  Victor moved up alongside his once-girlfriend. “Can she even hear us, Jess? Or see us?” The little girl flicked a blue-eyed glance at Victor, then quickly buried her face in her knees, which she hugged up against her. “Hmm,” he said. “I guess that answers it.”

  *

  “So, you’re telling me,” Victor said to the girl, “that you somehow managed to escape from The Pit.”

  The little blonde nodded again, not meeting Victor’s eyes as she shuffled back and fort
h. Victor, Jessica, and the towheaded spirit who had stunned them both by revealing herself as “Chanel Lockhart” stood atop the Stratosphere Tower, the tallest building for hundreds of miles. The young spirit said she’d wanted to get as far from the ground as she could “to get away from them.”

  Jessica knelt beside the girl and gave her a stern look like only a mother could give. “You just stay right here, sweetie,” she said. “Victor and I need to have a little talk, but we’ll take care of everything.” The little girl nodded glumly, and flicked a quick, shy glance at her fashionable hostess. Jessica stood, then looked at Victor, jerking her head to the side. “Can I have a quick word with you? In private?”

  Victor shrugged, glancing at Chanel. “Sure, I guess. But shouldn’t we be, you know… asking her some questions?”

  Jessica pursed her lips. “Just come with me, please.” With that, she took off into the sky.

  Victor placed his hands on the little girl’s shoulders and felt waves of fear and betrayal rolling off her in stunning quantities. He could only imagine what she’d seen and heard and experienced while trapped down there. “Hey, kid,” he said, crouching to eye level, “I’ll be right back. I promise. You’ll be okay” She nodded once more, but still said nothing.

  With that, Victor rocketed toward Jessica, reaching her in moments. She had that serene look about her, and as soon as he came within a stone’s throw, she erected a glowing bubble around them.

  “What’s with the light show?” he asked.

  “Privacy barrier,” she said simply.

  “What? You think Chanel’s an eavesdropper? She’s just a little kid. Why can’t we have this discussion back there with her?”

  She frowned. “Something’s off, Victor, and I don’t like it. The Dark Ones are all about the lies and the games. They’re like lepers hiding in a fashion show, covering the rot with glitz.” A gust of wind whistled past, as if to emphasize her point.

  “You’re worried about a little girl? Seriously?”

  “I’ve been fighting demons for a while now, Victor. They’re not usually willing to release their prey that easily.”

  He shot a look at Chanel, who had once again curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her. “Then it’s no wonder she’s so traumatized. We did her a favor, calling her out of the book.”

  Jessica shook her head. “But that’s not the image you were focusing on, was it?”

  He frowned. “Not at first, but I did see her childhood, and that’s exactly how she looked.”

  She shook her head. “But it’s how her mortal body once looked. Once a person reaches adulthood, their spirit will always look that way.”

  “So,” he said slowly, “you’re saying that…?”

  “She’s lying to us.”

  Victor shook his head. “She’s barely said anything. How can she be lying to us?”

  She gave him a suffering look. “Just trust me.”

  Victor groaned. “Look, maybe she’s fleecing us, maybe she’s not. But who’s to say that her real spirit—the little girl—isn’t what’s left over after The Pit burned away all the adult stuff?”

  Jessica shook her head again. “Doesn’t work that way.”

  “But maybe it does sometimes.” He grunted. “Look, all I’m trying to do is clear Lacey’s name. If Chanel’s death is in any way connected to Ross’ death, then I think she can help us. I’ve done this before—getting answers from the spirits of the dead. I know how these things work.”

  Jessica glowered. “But I don’t know that we can trust anything she says.”

  “Okay,” Victor countered, “what would get you to trust her?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t get a good read of her feelings, her thoughts, or her character. It’s clear she’s tainted by The Pit, though, so I’ll admit that might be part of it. If that’s all it is, then it’ll wear off.”

  “So we keep her and work with her.”

  “No, we contain and monitor her. Victor, this isn’t right. She—”

  A tapping sound interrupted her, and both he and Victor swiveled to see the girl standing just outside the bubble, tentatively poking it. A heart-warming look of open curiosity touched Victor, and he turned big eyes on his once girlfriend. She rolled her eyes and groaned slightly.

  “Don’t be a sucker, Victor,” she said. “You were always way too easy to manipulate. Do you remember that time I talked you into the diamond tennis bracelet, even though I already had seven of them?”

  Victor paused, then frowned. “You mean—wait. You already had one?”

  “Not one. Seven. Like I said. I was just testing you.”

  “But—” he started.

  “Irrelevant. Focus, Victor. She’s playing you.”

  Victor knelt and met the girl’s eyes. “Or,” he replied, “maybe you’re just jealous?”

  Jessica gasped. “Are you for real?”

  He turned his eyes on Jessica. “Look. Lacey’s in jail. It doesn’t matter what I think of her innocence if the cops think she’s done it. Maybe forensics will clear her, but I don’t want to wait on a ‘maybe’ when I can do something about it now. I know there was someone else at the scene of the murder, and I’m going to find out who.”

  Jessica frowned. “Don’t let this cloud your mind. You’re already on probation. And violating it, I might add. I can help you with it, but we need to do it right. You’re rushing things. Please, just give me some time.

  Victor shook his head. “She doesn’t have any time,” he said, jabbing a finger toward Vegas and, by extension, Lacey. “I can’t just leave her.”

  Jessica stooped and put a hand on his shoulder. He felt a mixture of admiration and pity from her. “You were always so loyal, Victor. I wish I’d realized just how good you were before I drove you away.” He could almost hear her unspoken words, but she managed to shield her thoughts, even if she couldn’t disguise the look in her eyes. She leaned forward just slightly, her lips parting just a breath, head tilting ever so slightly. For the barest moment Victor wondered whether he’d welcome something new with Jessica. She had changed in a lot of good ways. If only she were a little more like—

  “Lacey,” he said, shaking his head violently and standing. He spun back toward Chanel and, with a backward glance, said, “I’m going now, with or without you. I promise I’ll be careful. I mean, I’ll take your advice under consideration. But the woman I left Heaven for is locked up and fading away. I’ll move Heaven and Earth to save her.”

  With that, he stepped through the wall of light, and took the child by the hand.

  EIGHTEEN

  Huddled in her jail cell’s corner, Lacey was lost in thought. What could she possibly do? Someone was out framing her while she sat locked up. Yes, she pulled the trigger. Yes, she killed a man, but maybe evidence could at least prove that it was an accident. She might remain in jail, but the charges would be lowered from Murder to Manslaughter. She’d wanted to help Ross, not kill him! If only she could be on the other side of her concrete wall. If only she could do what she does best—investigating.

  She thought of Victor. About how blunt she had been, and actually rude to him. How could she be so rude to the one man who loved her unconditionally? There were far better ways to break a heart than by what she did. She knew that. Now that guilt was layered on top of guilt, it made her feel hopeless. Under the circumstances, she wondered how could she contact her dear guardian angel. Frowning, she realized that she couldn’t. At least, not now. She could still speak to his mind, she was sure, but she knew she’d pushed him away so adamantly that she had no right to just call him up for a favor and a chat. She’d just have to update him later on what the detective found.

  Cathy would never spend her money, or be able to convince the company to spend their money to release her. Her phone call had been really naive. It was time for her to at least notify the guard standing watch that she had an ill grandmother needing urgent care tonight. She hoped against hope that there’d be some w
ay she’d be released from jail this evening.

  Lacey stood and walked over to the bars that imprisoned her. “Sir?” she said. In a corner, playing on his phone, was the hefty guard. His eyes didn’t even flicker up. “Officer?” she repeated louder.

  “What?” he more grunted than said.

  “My grandmother isn’t well and needs someone.”

  “You think I’m just gonna pass over my keys and let you out for some excuse? I’ve heard it all, lady. Down to women faking contractions.”

  Although the assertion boiled her blood, Lacey calmly mustered, “I’m not trying to get out of jail. I’m just telling you so that something can be done about it. So that the authorities can help her. Get her a home health nurse or something.”

  A ding tolled on his phone and he fist pumped. “Yes, third level.”

  “Did you hear me? You’re clearly not listening. She needs help. She has dementia.”

  “Listen lady,” he said, giving her a flat stare, “in real life, there are no ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ cards.” Lacey’s jaw dropped, and the guard turned away again with a self-satisfied smirk.

  She slumped against the wall of the cell, and slid slowly to the ground, silently praying, to whatever god Victor worked for that her parents would reach Nainai before something went wrong.

  *

  Nainai was awoken by a familiar voice that she’d only heard over the phone in the last few years. Like a lucky pineapple, it was sweet and sharp. “Mama,” the voice said. “Mama.” She was softly tapped on the shoulder. “It’s time to wake up. Have you been asleep all day?”

  Nainai’s eyes fluttered open. A vision of a middle-aged Chinese woman with a short hairdo and side-swept bangs looked down at her. “Mei Hua?” she said her daughter’s name, which meant Beautiful Flower. And indeed she was a beautiful flower, her face round, open and elegant like a lotus.

  “Shi, Mama. It’s me.”

  Turning her head on her pillow, the old woman tried orienting herself to her surroundings. White bedspread. White walls. White lilies in a vase. “Are we dead, daughter?”