Beginner's Luck_An Urban Fantasy Adventure

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Beginner's Luck_An Urban Fantasy Adventure Page 7

by J. A. Cipriano


  “Oh, of course. Right away,” Tiffany said, slightly flustered as she produced an electronic device that was almost a cell phone from her jacket pocket and gave it a few taps. She turned the screen toward me and held the device out, showing a black screen with a small blue dot in the center. “If you’ll just place your right thumb here, you’ll be all set.”

  I shrugged and pressed my finger to the dot. The device beeped softly, and a blue horizontal line ran down the screen from the top. When I pulled away, there was a fingerprint where the dot had been.

  “There we are, you are now registered,” Tiffany said in her bright game-show tone as she turned the device toward her and started tapping again. “Fingerprint identification will be required for the qualifying round, as well as the tournament itself, should you make it that far,” she said. “Are you familiar with the structure of the Four Skulls tournament?”

  “Why don’t you tell me about it?” I said. “I want to make sure I don’t get confused.”

  Tiffany smiled. “Of course. The first step is the qualifying round, held right here at the Chute,” she said, practically beaming as she gestured around the room. Her gaze fell on Jeremy, and she scowled slightly. “Which is, of course …”

  Jeremy heaved a breath and rolled his eyes. “The crown jewel of the Underground, where the fun never stops. Ask us about our special suite rates exclusively for valued players in the Four Skulls tournament,” he intoned, and then flashed a narrow gaze at me. “No, really, ask us. I dare you,” he said.

  “I’ll pass,” I said with a smirk. Funny as it would be to make this guy spit out the rest of his spiel, I was happy enough making the registration deadline to cut him some slack.

  “Anyway,” Tiffany said. “The qualifying round will be held tomorrow at noon, in our fabulous Esmeralda Room. The top one hundred players will compete in the tournament, which takes place over two days in our Grand Ballroom, beginning exactly one week from tomorrow.” She paused for a breath. “And remember, you must be on time for both the qualifying event and the tournament itself. Late arrivals will be disqualified.”

  “Yes, good luck with that,” Jeremy said with a faint sneer. “You seem so punctual, I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

  “Oh, I’ll be there,” I said. “Thanks for the concern, though.”

  As Arden and I headed out of the poker room, I decided I’d pay a visit to The Trove, stock up on lifewater and maybe a few other things. Joad still had three opportunities to stop me from winning the tournament and try for the watch again, and I planned to be prepared.

  Nothing and nobody was going to stand in my way.

  12

  The Trove was basically the big-box store of the UV. Situated at the heart of the entertainment district, the square two-story brick building kept the basics, the mass-produced stuff, cheap tricks and essential staples along with non-magical wares on the first floor. Downstairs, you could get novelty magic, single-use spells and tokens, an array of weak charms and talismans that were more for show than actual protection, and potions from useful stuff like lifewater to pickups and boosts that bordered on addictive like vamp blood. They also had a pretty decent clothing section.

  But the second floor was where they kept the good stuff, the costly items that actually worked. Not that The Trove carried anything unique, ancient, or uber-powerful. Cato’s was the place for one-of-a-kind items that cost an arm and a leg, though you could always try your luck for less at Golar’s pawn shop and risk his ‘unique’ merchandise actually working. Right now, though, I didn’t want The White Wizard’s Staff or some other magical artifact from the dawn of time the likes of which none have wielded, or whatever. I just wanted something reliable and useful, and The Trove was fine for that.

  I grabbed a basket at the entrance and threaded my way through the first floor. I grabbed a few cases of lifewater vials, a box of smoke capsules as a last-resort backup in case I needed to make a quick escape, and a nice pair of fingerless leather TacTouch gloves that should still allow me to work my summoning sigil through. Then I headed up the spiral staircase, and when I reached the second floor, went straight to the Customs desk at the back.

  As I expected, Mist was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading the latest issue of Arcanery while she twirled one of the dozen or so amulets around her neck at the end of a finger. Her bright blue hair fell in waves to the middle of her back, and the leather outfit she wore, not much more than a corset and a scrap of a skirt paired with thigh-high boots, showed off all the right curves.

  I didn’t hook up with Mist as often as I did with Arden, but it was always fun when we got together. She made literal sparks fly.

  She saw me coming and flashed a liquid smile, setting her magazine on the counter next to the cash register as she stood from the stool and came around to my side. “Hey, Seth,” she said, tugging me toward her for a kiss on the cheek. “Long time, no see. Where’ve you been lately?”

  “Oh, you know. Ducking the paparazzi, shit like that.” I set my basket on the floor and grinned as I leaned against the counter. “How’s business?”

  Mist gave a lazy shrug and stood next to me. “It’s been quiet, actually,” she said. “Suits me fine since I get more time to read.”

  “Yeah, well I guess I’m here to ruin your quiet time, then,” I said, smiling as she gave a little pout. “I need something customized, and it might be a little tricky. But I know you can do it.”

  “I am the best,” Mist said as she tossed her hair back and stretched her arms in front of her, pantomiming cracking her knuckles. “So, what are you looking for?”

  I nodded toward the display of effect timers to the right of the Customs desk. Commonly called FXTs, they were pin charms that alerted you when a spell wore off or that an item was charged and ready to use. An FXT had to be customized in order to work with a particular item or spell, but I wanted something a little different. “Think you can bind two items to the same FXT?” I said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Ooh, a challenge,” she said. “What are the items?”

  “These,” I said, touching the sigil on my palm to recall the combat dice. “And this.” I pulled my sleeve up to show the roulette watch.

  “So that’s it, huh? The famous watch,” Mist said as she stared at the bracelet, her eyes glittering with interest. “I have to say, it’s a beautiful piece. Do you know what kind of base magic it uses? I mean, you got it from a Collector, but that doesn’t mean it’s dark elf magic … or does it?”

  I shrugged a little, debating on how much I should tell her. Not that I didn’t trust Mist to keep my secrets. But a lot of places in the UV tended to have undetected ears listening, especially in the entertainment district, and I wanted to keep as many details as possible out of public knowledge. “Let’s just say it’s not demonic, and neither are the dice,” I finally said. “Does that help?”

  “I guess it’ll have to if you’re going to be all secretive,” she said with a tiny smile. “All right. We’ll see what I can do.”

  I picked out an FXT charm in the shape of a skull, and Mist held the dice and the charm in one hand while she wrapped the other around the watch, which I refused to take off. It took her a few tries to get the binding spell to stick right, but she smiled as the little skull charm finally glowed blue and winked out. “All right, that’s all set,” she said as she pressed the dice and the charm into my hand, holding it a little longer than necessary. Not that I minded. “Anything else I can help you with?”

  “Actually, there might be,” I said. “I’m in a … situation, let’s say, and I’m looking for something to give me an edge. I just don’t know what I need, exactly.”

  Her eyebrow went up again. “What kind of situation?”

  “Well, it’s like this.” I gave her the short version of Cayn wanting the watch back and the deal he’d offered his victims. “I don’t exactly have a list of people who’ve sold their souls to Cayn, and I guess I’d like a little warning when there’s some
body around who might try to kill me,” I said once I finished explaining. “Maybe that’s what I’m looking for.”

  Mist shook her head. “Great, now I have to worry,” she said. “But I think I’ve actually got the perfect thing for you. I found it the other day while I was rummaging around in the back. Hang on.”

  She disappeared through a door behind the counter. A few minutes later, she returned with a long, slender box covered with a thin film of dust and set it on the surface. “This was a custom order that apparently came in years ago,” she said. “Before my time, so I don’t know who made it. But it’s a Soul Amulet, designed to glow when it’s around a Collector or someone who’s been marked by one. The guy who ordered it never came to pick it up.” She frowned, and added, “I asked about it, and the rumor is that he vanished from the city a few days after he commissioned this. People say the Collectors got him.”

  “Yeah, that might have something to do with it,” I said with just a trace of worry as she opened the box, revealing a blood-red crystal on a silver chain. It almost sounded like Cayn had gone after someone else the same way he was coming for me … and with the other guy, he’d succeeded. “Do you know the name of the guy who ordered this?”

  She thought for a moment. “I think the name on the slip was Victor,” she said. “Yeah, Victor Nash. I remember he had the same last name as Christopher Lambert’s fake name in Highlander.”

  “Okay, then.” I reminded myself to check into Victor Nash, to find out if maybe he’d bargained with Cayn and had something go wrong. “I guess I’ll take poor Victor’s amulet, then, and the rest of this stuff. Can you ring me up? I don’t want to wait in line downstairs.”

  “If I have to, but only because it’s you.” She smiled and started punching numbers into the cash register. Everything came to around three grand, and I paid with my card. That was another advantage to shopping at The Trove; they took plastic.

  “So, what are you doing tomorrow night?” Mist said as she bagged my items. “Elias is throwing a party at his place, and I don’t have a date yet. And by date, I mean someone to sneak off upstairs with for a while.”

  I grinned at her. “In that case, allow me to volunteer then,” I said. “What time?”

  “I’ll be there around nine.” She leaned across the counter, holding the brown paper shopping bag toward me. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Seth. I’ve missed you.”

  I promised to be on time as I grabbed my bag and headed back downstairs. On the way, I took the Soul Amulet out and slipped it around my neck. I still couldn’t believe the exact thing I needed for this problem not only existed but had been commissioned by someone else.

  I’d have to find out more about this guy soon. But for now, I thought I’d grab something to eat, maybe hit one of the smaller casinos to sharpen my game for tomorrow’s qualifying round, and swing by the practice ranges to test the timer charm. Not necessarily in that order.

  But when I hit the sidewalk and started down the block, my amulet started to glow just before someone grabbed my arm and spun me around. I found myself looking into gleaming red eyes beneath a hooded red cloak, and a guttural voice poured out from the shadowed depths of the hood.

  “Hello, Seth,” Alistair said as his hand squeezed my wrist like an iron band. “I’m sorry, but I am going to need that watch.”

  13

  “Alistair,” I managed, trying to twist away from him. Damn, he’d gotten a really good grip on me somehow. I’d never thought he had it in him. “Wait, you sold your soul to Cayn? Man, you must’ve gotten the worst deal ever out of it, unless you have some secret life I don’t know about.”

  I was shocked, but I really wasn’t all that worried about the short, scrawny, two-bit street hustler taking the watch from me. At least until he picked me up by the wrist and slammed me into the outer wall of the Chute hard enough to make my teeth rattle.

  “Never mind that,” Alistair snarled in his fake-guttural voice. He must’ve been hitting the vamp juice real damned hard. “Just give me the watch. I don’t want to kill you for it, but I will.”

  I sighed. “No, you really won’t,” I said, finally wrenching my wrist free to double-tap the watch face. “But I don’t want to kill you either, so just give me … sixteen seconds,” I finished as the roulette wheel landed and I vanished from his sight.

  Sixteen seconds. Enough time to stash my purchases in the Tethered Trunk and hopefully put Alistair out of commission before he hurt himself. I dropped the bag in the trunk, keeping half an eye on Alistair’s grainy, half-transparent image as he bellowed and turned in circles looking for me. I landed two good blows on him, the gut-face combo, and he staggered back shaking his head.

  Just as the timer charm gave a soft chime and I shifted back out of alterspace, Alistair’s glowing red eyes flared incredibly bright, and he charged me like a bull.

  “Damn, son!” I shouted as I sidestepped him and called the dice to my hand. “Did you drain a whole vampire just to come after me, or what?”

  He let out a frustrated roar. “Give it to me!”

  “Not a chance.” I rolled the dice on the sidewalk, ready to recall them as soon as they landed. Any of the energy bolt rolls would’ve been fine with me, since I didn’t want to seriously hurt Alistair, just slow him down enough to call an Enforcer. I felt bad for the guy.

  The dice landed on double ones. Snake eyes. That was probably the worst roll I could’ve hoped for in this situation. I had no idea how much the massive attack I’d only seen in miniature was going to hurt Alistair, or me, for that matter. I remembered the way the little doll’s eyes bled when she landed this roll.

  And whatever happened to the caster with this spell, I was already starting to feel it. Sharp pain exploded in my head as my hands burst into green flames, and I sucked in a harsh breath as the pain spread through me like needles in my bloodstream.

  Alistair was charging me again. I sent the dice back to alterspace and raised my arms, preparing to throw an attack that might kill him. “Don’t make me do this, buddy,” I said as the pain in my head intensified, and I felt something warm and wet run down my cheeks. Awesome, my eyes were bleeding. “If I hit you, I’m pretty sure you’ll never play Three Card Monte again.”

  He looked at me, and then stumbled and halted mid-run. “How did you …?”

  At first, I thought the muted red glow that surrounded us was a side effect of the vamp blood overdose Alistair had to be on. But then I realized I couldn’t move at all either. Oh, good, someone had beaten me to calling an Enforcer.

  And since today was turning out to be my unlucky day, I wasn’t surprised to see Titus materialize between us, his amber eyes practically sparking as he glared at me.

  “Mr. Wyatt. I should not be surprised to find you involved in this disturbance,” he boomed in his thundery voice as the glowing sigil on his outstretched palm pulsed briefly. “And yet, behold my face of surprise. Confess now, so I can finally Smite you.”

  “Confess to what?” I said, genuinely confused and still in a lot of pain since I hadn’t been able to discharge the dice spell thanks to Titus’s suspension field. “All right, I confess that Alistair is trying to rob me, and to being totally shocked that he sold his soul to Cayn.”

  Titus turned his head slowly to regard Alistair, who’d gone silent and refocused his enraged stare on the Enforcer. “And yet you are the one poised to cast a lethal spell,” Titus said as he turned back to me. “I am responding to a report of attempted murder, Mr. Wyatt, and you are holding the weapon.”

  “What, this? This isn’t lethal,” I said, although I wasn’t entirely sure about that anymore. If the Enforcer didn’t drop the suspension field soon, the damned spell might kill me. “Lucy got hit with it, and she didn’t die.”

  Titus was not amused. “So, you have also attempted to murder this Lucy?” he said.

  “I don’t think that’s possible. She’s a rag doll.” I took a careful breath and tried to ignore the pain still coursing through my
veins. “Look, Titus, it’s pretty obvious I’m in distress here,” I said. “Maybe this is normal for whatever you Enforcers are, but people don’t generally bleed from the eyes. So, could you lower the suspension and let me discharge this spell before it shreds me apart from the inside?”

  If Titus had eyebrows, I was sure he’d just raised them sarcastically. “Or I could not do that and allow your allegedly non-lethal spell to do what I’m not permitted to, no matter how much I would like to,” he said.

  “Come on,” I said through gritted teeth. “I am not trying to kill Alistair. He’s trying to rob me, and I’m trying not to get robbed. That’s the whole story.”

  Titus waited another few seconds, probably enjoying my torture, and finally closed his hand over the sigil. I sagged in relief as control of my body returned to me, then drew my arms back and shoved them over my head, sending the green blast of the spell harmlessly into the sky.

  Turned out I should’ve waited just a few more seconds, because once the suspension field dropped, Alistair ramped up into frenzy territory and charged toward the Enforcer, holding a switchblade he must’ve just pulled.

  “Titus, look out!” I shouted as I lunged for Alistair. Truth was that Old Leatherface probably could’ve taken care of himself, but I was already moving. Besides, it wouldn’t be all bad if I showed a little concern for the Enforcer’s well-being. Maybe he’d lay off looking for an opportunity to Smite me for a while.

  I tackled Alistair to the sidewalk, feeling all the wiry, unnatural strength that thrummed through him beneath my hands. I couldn’t believe how juiced he was. This much vamp blood should’ve killed him, but he was very much alive and flinging himself around like a cat trapped in a box. He cracked his own head into the concrete, hard enough to make me wince, and the hand holding the switchblade drove into my upper arm.

  There was no blade at the end of the handle, but something ripped through my flesh all the same. Blood ran hot down my arm and soaked my jacket sleeve as a spectral blue, vaguely knife-shaped form shot all the way through me and flew off into the night. Son of a bitch, that hurt.

 

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