Beginner's Luck_An Urban Fantasy Adventure

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Holy shit,” he said, and looked at Brandi, the cocktail waitress. “This guy’s a legend. He won the Four Skulls tournament three years in a row, and … like, didn’t you save the world or something?”

  I snorted. “Yeah, something like that. My drink?”

  “Oh! Of course. Right away, sir,” the bartender said as he scurried off.

  When he left, Brandi came over and took the stool next to me. I was suddenly important again, and now she was really turning on the charm in a big way. A take-me-back-to-your-place way.

  “I have heard of you,” she said with a brilliant smile. “But everybody said you left Vegas ten years ago, and no one knew where you were going.”

  “That’s true. I did,” I said as the bartender set a tumbler in front of me with a few ice cubes and a healthy shot of amber-gold liquid. “Just got back into town, actually. And I wanted to stop by this place to indulge in a little nostalgia about the good old days since it all started in that very room.” I pointed at the nailed-over door where the red velvet curtain used to be.

  “Wow, really?” Brandi gushed. “What happened in there?”

  I took a sip of my Scotch. It was the good stuff, just like I’d asked for. And I did have a few hours before my meeting with Golar so I could spare some time to tell the story.

  “Well, it went down kind of like this,” I said. “A bouncer, a half-demon, and a punk kid walked into a bar …”

  2

  Las Vegas, Twenty Years Ago

  Ever since I won the roulette watch off Cayn a few weeks ago, the invites and challenges had been pouring in. Now, I was headed to the Mandolin Rain for a poker game in the infamous back room. I’d been in the place a few times for drinks, but only the big shots got to use the back room.

  I guessed I was a big shot now.

  It was raining down here. Again. Underground Vegas, ten square blocks of gambling, shopping, dining, and other nightlife delights hidden beneath the City of Lights. They called it UV, the joke being there was never any sunlight. A handful of low-grade warlocks maintained the weather spells, and lately they’d been making it rain just about every night. One of them must’ve been depressed.

  This was where the real magic happened, literally.

  I was a block away from the bar when a low, hissing voice came from the shadow of an alley just ahead of me. “Looking for something hot, my friend? Follow the lady, and she’ll lead you to the power you crave.”

  The voice was familiar. I was already groaning when mellow white light flared in the shadow, revealing a short, thin figure in a long red hooded robe standing behind a battered folding table just inside the alley. Two pinpoints of red glittered from beneath the hood.

  “I’m busy, Alistair,” I said as I neared the alley, intending to just keep right on walking. “And it’s raining out here, in case you haven’t noticed. Maybe you should find an inside place to rip people off.”

  “Seth?” This time there was no ominous hissing in his voice as he lowered the hood and flashed a sheepish grin. “Seth Wyatt. I didn’t recognize you in your … uh …”

  “Same coat I always wear?” I said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  Alistair was a fixture in the UV, always fishing for hungry newbies who’d jump at any chance to win magical items. His Three Card Monte game wasn’t rigged, exactly. He was just faster than humans could follow thanks to regular doses of vampire blood, which also let him pull off the theatrics with the glowing eyes and guttural voice. If anyone actually managed to pick out the queen, he’d give them a snap-bang matchbook and tell them to play again, trade up for better prizes. Part confidence man, part carnival barker, all pathetic, that was Alistair.

  “Yeah right, sure. That is your coat, isn’t it?” he said in a wheedling voice. “Hey, Seth, I hear you beat a Collector. Won something really hot. Is that true?”

  I sighed and stopped in front of Alistair’s table, resigning myself to a very short conversation. If I didn’t talk to him, he’d follow me up the street and into the Mandolin, and the patrons in there would eat him alive. “Yeah, I did,” I told him. “He was really pissed off about it, too.”

  Alistair gave a reedy laugh. “Fuck yeah, he would be. Nobody beats a Collector.”

  I shrugged modestly, even though I was pretty damned proud of myself. It was true. The Collectors looked human, but they weren’t. They were dark elves working for some mysterious master. At any given time, a dozen or so Collectors circulated throughout the UV, bargaining for people’s souls. Normally, it was a straight deal, one soul for whatever ancient relic or magic power if you sign on the dotted line, no challenges required. But sometimes, they would offer to play, to let people wager their souls for a chance to win something powerful. The whole ‘Devil Went Down to Georgia’ thing. Hardly anyone who knew about the Collectors took them up on it because they never lost.

  Except Cayn had lost to me, and I didn’t even have to cheat.

  “So, can I see it?” Alistair said. “The watch, I mean.”

  “Sure, why not?” I held my arm out and pushed my coat sleeve back. “There it is.”

  He leaned over the table and stared at my wrist. The ‘watch’ was actually a bronze cuff bracelet with a roulette wheel about two inches in diameter set into it. Soft green light illuminated the wheel beneath the glass covering. It was numbered zero to sixty like a standard roulette wheel, and I could spin it by double-tapping on the glass.

  Cool shit happened when I spun the wheel.

  Alistair’s eyes widened as he looked at the roulette watch. “That is sweet,” he said. “Never seen anything like it, for sure. What’s it do?”

  “Magic,” I said with a smirk as I pushed my sleeve back down. “Look, I gotta go. Get in out of the rain, will you?” I glanced at the three playing cards lying face down on his table and tapped the one on the right. “By the way, this one’s the lady. See you around, Alistair.”

  As I walked away, I heard the slight scrape as he picked up the card I’d pointed to, and then he cursed loudly. “How’d you do that?” he called after me.

  “I’m just that good,” I said without looking back.

  A minute later, I’d reached the Mandolin. The two bouncers stationed outside the double front doors were big, burly slabs of damp and grumpy, and I didn’t recognize either of them. They wore dark suits and earpieces, and each of them packed a normal sidearm and a Null baton for dealing with unruly magic elements. They glared at me as I walked up.

  There were two ways to get into the Mandolin Rain. If you were there to drink and mingle, you paid the ten-dollar cover to the bouncers. But if you were headed for the back room, you either had to be on the list or show an official invitation. I had the second one.

  “Yeah?” the bouncer on the left said when I stopped at the door.

  “I’m here to meet Blaze,” I said as I produced the small, blank white card I’d been given by a contact last night at the Lucky Susan.

  The bouncer grunted and pulled a magelight scanner wand from inside his jacket. He took the card, slid it between the two framed glass plates at the end of the handle, and pushed a button on the device. Purple light flowed across the glass, revealing my name written on the card in blotchy, dull red ink.

  “All right,” the bouncer said as he yanked the card out and handed it back. He looked at his buddy, who nodded once and then pushed one of the doors open. “Follow me, then,” he said as he went through himself.

  I followed him inside. The Mandolin was packed and noisy, every table occupied and the bar lined up three deep with people ordering drinks. A good handful of the patrons wore colored streaks in their hair, most of them white, but I spotted a few that were green or red. It was supposed to be a sign that they could hook you up with the occult, but mostly they just sold cheap baubles that broke the second time you used them or weak enchantments that wore off in an hour.

  The ones with real power didn’t advertise so blatantly. Either you knew exactly what to look for, or they approach
ed you if they thought you had potential.

  That was how I’d gotten into the magic game. I’d been approached.

  Even though he was as big as a house, I still almost lost the bouncer in the crowds a few times. Finally, we reached the back of the bar, where a red velvet curtain hung in a doorway on the back wall. The bouncer pulled the curtain back, revealing an elaborately carved, glossy black door with no handle. He loosened the snap on his Null baton and slotted the end into a round recess in the center of the door.

  Green light flashed from the recess, and the door creaked open. “Go on in,” the bouncer said.

  I walked through, projecting all the confidence I could muster. For some reason, the bouncer came in after me and closed the door while I was taking in the room. Seemed like he was staying for the game, which was my first hint that something was off.

  At first, I was a little disappointed because the back room didn’t look all that legendary. It just looked like an oversized storage room, kind of stuffy and laced with a faint sour smell, with a couple of utility shelves against the wall and a round table in the middle. There were five chairs at the table, three of them occupied by rough-looking characters with amulets and occult tattoos.

  One of the guys at the table stood and greeted me with an oily smile. “You must be Mr. Wyatt,” he said. “I’m Blaze. Glad you accepted my invitation. Have a seat.” He gestured at the empty chair directly across from him. As he did, I noticed the short talons at the ends of his fingers and realized that the sour smell in the room was sulfur.

  Oh, good. Blaze was a demon.

  I pulled out the chair and sat down, and the bouncer took the last empty seat. “Look, Blaze, I’m sure you’re a friendly demon and all—”

  “Half-demon, actually,” he said as he lowered himself slowly into his chair, not taking his eyes off me. “And if you’re concerned about the brimstone smell, it’s not me. Apparently, they had to Null a demon in here last night who was less than happy about losing. Isn’t that right, Morris?”

  The bouncer grunted agreement.

  “Uh-huh. Well, that brings me to my next question,” I said. “Why is the bouncer in this game?”

  Blaze laughed. “Morris isn’t here to play. This game is just between you and me,” he said, glancing at the other two men around the table. “These men are just here to witness. I wouldn’t want you to think I was trying to cheat you.”

  The feeling that something wasn’t right about this returned. True, demons were notorious cheats, but having ‘witnesses’ never stopped them. But I figured I’d at least find out what he was going to propose before I walked out of here. “All right, what’s the game?” I said.

  “Five-card draw poker. We’ll play through five thousand in chips,” Blaze said. “Your roulette watch against ten million dollars.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “Come on. If I wanted money, I’d just go play the rubes up in normal Vegas,” I said. “If you really want me to wager the watch, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

  “Fine,” Blaze said with just a hint of irritation. He snapped his fingers, and a pair of dice appeared in a puff of black smoke on the table in front of him. They looked ancient, made of either ivory or bone that was yellowed with age, and the black pips shimmered with color like tiny oil slicks. “Combat dice. Each roll produces a different magical effect.”

  Now that, I could play for. “Okay, half-demon,” I said. “You’re on.”

  3

  For some reason, Blaze was in a hurry to get through this game. He’d started the ante at a hundred and doubled it every hand. I slow-played him for the first few rounds, trying to get a feel for what he was doing, but when the fifth hand was dealt with a twelve hundred ante, he pushed it.

  The half-demon had first bid. He looked at his cards for a minute, and then slid a substantial stack of chips into the middle of the table. “One thousand,” he said evenly, without a single twitch.

  I had to credit him for having no obvious tells. That didn’t mean he had none, just that he wasn’t going to give me enough time to figure them out. He was definitely going to try closing out the game on this hand, and he was convinced he’d win.

  I had a kind of sixth sense when it came to card games. Part skill, part intuition, maybe a dash of card counting and near-photographic memory, and possibly just a smidge of magic. Not enough that anybody could tell because magical cheating was strictly forbidden in the UV. You did that, you’d have an Executor on your ass faster than you could say ‘what, this re-inking spell?’.

  Still, I wasn’t about to let this guy win my watch. And I wanted those dice.

  “All right,” I finally said as I plopped a matching stack of chips in the center. “I call.”

  The tiniest smile flickered on Blaze’s face, just long enough for me to get more suspicious. He took one card from his hand and put it face down on the table, and I did the same, leaving me with four diamonds and a decent chance at making a flush with the draw.

  One of the goons Blaze had brought with him was acting as dealer. I watched him carefully as he gave us one card each, just to make sure he wasn’t bottom-dealing or trying to spell the cards. But he’d dealt straight for the whole game, short as it had been.

  I picked up my card to find the three of diamonds. As I slotted it into my hand, I watched Blaze lift his card slowly, stare at it for a few seconds, and then tuck it at the end of his hand. His expression was completely unreadable.

  After a moment’s consideration, he pushed all his chips into the middle without a word. He was going all in, just like I figured.

  I gave myself a little extra time to think. In a two-player, five-card round, the odds were almost nonexistent that he’d managed a better hand than a flush. But nothing about him suggested he was bluffing. Maybe he did have me beat fairly, but I figured it was more likely he’d try something stupid and expect me to play along and roll over, on account of him being a scary demon and all.

  So I decided to bet on demons being dumb, smug bastards and matched his raise, which left me with not enough for another ante. “Okay, let’s see ’em,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You call, you show.”

  “Fine.” I laid my cards on the table, pretty diamonds all in a row. “Now let’s see ’em,” I repeated.

  For the first time, Blaze showed a trace of emotion, and it was surprise. He wasn’t expecting me to have a high hand. He snapped the fan of his cards shut, blinked at the table a few times, and then spread his cards slowly.

  I caught a whiff of fresh sulfur as he laid them down. He had a straight flush.

  At least, he would’ve had a straight flush if there was such a card as the eleven of hearts.

  “Yeah, that’s hilarious,” I said as my unease grew sharply. Nobody was dumb enough to try such a blatant cheat, not even a demon. Or a half demon. “So, are we calling that a misdeal, or are you just straight-up conceding to me, and this is your idea of a joke?”

  Blaze smiled a very unfriendly smile. “I’m calling that a straight flush,” he said. “I won. Give me the watch.”

  “Bullshit you won.” I noticed the other men at the table tensing to make a move, including the bouncer. That was especially unsettling because it meant Blaze had bribed the bouncer to get in on this trap, and he was the only one who could open the door to the room.

  Lucky for me, I didn’t need the door.

  “The watch, Mr. Wyatt.” Blaze extended a hand across the table. “I don’t think you need me to explain what’s about to happen if you don’t hand it over.”

  No, I didn’t. But I also wasn’t going to hang around and wait for it to happen.

  I braced my hands under the edge of the table and flipped it hard, straight at Blaze, using the momentum to tip my chair back on two legs at the same time. I smacked the floor pretty hard, but it was just in time to avoid the bouncer’s meaty fist swinging for me. And now he was going for the Null baton.

  I rolled back and sprang to my feet
, just as Blaze batted the table aside with a roar and started to get off the floor. One of the other guys was up and heading for me, and the last one was helping Blaze to his feet.

  The bouncer was closest, already drawing the baton back. I rammed a fist in his underarm, making him yelp as his nerves pinched, his fingers twitched, and the baton fell from his hand. As he swore and dropped to make a grab for it, I smashed my knee into his face and brought my arm up, ready to activate the watch.

  That was when the whole room filled with a dull red glow and everyone froze in place, suddenly unable to move, though we could all still talk.

  I laughed because I knew what was coming. “Bye-bye, Blaze,” I said.

  It was a shame I couldn’t see his face when the Enforcer materialized in the center of the room, all black robes and silver chains and leathery skin. A glowing sigil pulsed in the center of his outstretched, taloned hand. “Magical cheating has been detected in this room,” he said in a voice like a thunderstorm. “If the guilty party confesses now, he will only receive a five-year playing ban.”

  I recognized this particular Enforcer and decided to poke him a little, just for the fun of it. “Only five years, Titus?” I said. “C’mon, this guy must have had a few strikes before now. I think you should Smite him. You must be dying to Smite somebody, right?”

  Titus turned slowly in my direction, his amber eyes flaring beneath the hood. “Wyatt,” he said. “Tell me you’re confessing. Please. If that is the case, I may decide to Smite you twice.”

  “Not this time, buddy. Not the last time, either,” I said. Titus had tried to bust me at least four times in the past few years, but he never could catch me. It infuriated him. I’d tried to tell him that pure skill got me this far, but he wasn’t buying it. “Can I just tell you who was cheating, so we can get this over with? I’ve got things to do.”

  Instead of answering me, Titus turned slowly and glared at everyone else in the room, one at a time. “Confess,” he said. “This is your only chance.”