by Jenn Stark
I stared at her. “You broke up with him to build your cover story?” I asked, not even bothering to hide my disbelief.
“I truly did,” Dixie said, nodding with a gravitas I would never have suspected in her. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I could save even one more life.”
Chapter Fifteen
We were close enough to one of the bars lining the walls of the club that it was easy for me to veer toward it, the bartender apparently sensing my need before I managed to fully raise my hand. His gaze met mine with sympathy—and something more. Recognition.
I’d never seen him before in my life, but I was getting used to that sort of thing. The House of Swords ran deep, but deeper than I’d ever expected in Vegas.
I slanted a glance toward Dixie, and she nodded. “Alabama Slammer,” she said. I’d never heard of that before either. It was to be a night of new experiences, apparently.
The bartender appeared to know the drink, and he was already pulling a bottle of bourbon down from the wall, splashing more than two fingers into a glass and sending it my way first. I tried to hide my reaction, but I had to hand it to Ma-Singh. Either this guy was Connected as well, or my general had done his job down to the brass tacks, communicating my drink of preference to anyone with the ability to serve it to me. Nice.
A second later, Dixie was sipping her drink from a tall, thin glass, both of us positioned to take in the gyrating dance floor. This far away from the club’s center, we seemed to be somewhat sheltered from the blast of music. I’d take it as long as it lasted.
“Ladies’ Night,” I muttered. There definitely were more women than men on the dance floor, but the outskirts of the floor were teeming with guys, most of them fixed on the floor or whatever prey they’d currently cornered. But this game of cat-and-mouse seemed reasonably benign. Not so the hunt that Dixie had been on when I’d intercepted her. “You think that’s what drew those girls here tonight.”
“That’s what made it easy for them to come,” Dixie corrected me with a bounce of curls. She pursed her lips over her straw for another long sip. “What drew them was my growing reputation as a supplier. I have a whole entourage here to flesh out the story, and none of them know the truth.”
That sounded dangerous. “What truth?”
“That the drugs I’m giving them are no more technoceutical masterpieces than I am.” She dimpled.
I considered that. Given what I suspected of Dixie, that still left a lot of leeway. Still, her intent was clear.
“You’re giving them placebos. That’s not such a bright idea, I’m thinking. There’s a lot of people who’d take exception to that.”
“But you forget, this is my inner circle of friends and neighbors, Connecteds who’ve known me for years. I’m not hardly going to drug them. I merely need them to believe that they’re being served special drugs, so they can speak convincingly to people I don’t know as well. That’s who I’m trying to catch.”
“Like those girls.” I scanned the room again, but there was still no sign of Nikki. “They’re not, ah, currently missing?” I knew they were; Brody had recognized them. But would Dixie know that?
The answer, of course, was both yes and no.
“Actually, they are—or they’re about to be. They have that feel…” She paused now, biting her lip with such a credible expression of worry that I experienced my own surge of anxiety. “There are so many of them. So many strings in the map that lead off into nowhere.”
I knew the map she was referencing. When she and Brody had first begun tracking down missing Connecteds in the city, Dixie had gone after the idea like a Vegas-based Columbo. She’d hung a giant paper wall map in her office, complete with pushpins, sticky notes, and colored string to indicate connections between crimes. Crimes or, in this case, missing persons.
Before I could pursue that, however, Dixie continued. “Those two—the Mendala sisters, if I’m right, and I surely believe I am—didn’t show up to their jobs as guest associates at Wynn about ten days ago. They weren’t seen at all on the Strip after that for several days. Their parents didn’t raise an alarm because they’re here, they’re of age, they don’t check in so often that a brief absence would be noticeable.” She smiled at my questioning glance. “Their mama is a friend of a friend, and when I heard about them going off the grid, I had her check on them without making the good woman worry. She’s down in Reno, working her own patch, and she raised her girls to be self-sufficient. Part of me hopes it’s a mistake, that they’re just ditching their jobs, but the description I got on them was they were good girls, hardworking and fun loving. They wouldn’t leave their employer in the lurch, not with the plummy job they had—their spa connections led them to a lot of off-the-books reiki and divination work.”
I tried to remember the appearance of the young women. They’d seemed scared, mostly, and that was the lingering impression I got. Particularly when Dixie had fixed on them. But as far as she knew, I hadn’t seen the girls, so I needed to tread lightly. “Have you had any interaction with them before tonight?”
“Not personally, no, but they lifted some pills from one of my inner cadre. Apparently, they were here for more.” She lifted one delicate shoulder. “Or at least, that’s what I was hoping. I was trying to decide whether to play the heavy or the candy peddler with them when I saw them, then I saw you.” She sighed. “Now they’re gone.”
I blew out a long breath. It all fit. If Dixie had been giving off the kind of menacing vibes I was picking up to continue her façade as drug dealers for the girls, that could account for why her aura had been so dirty. It wasn’t dirty now, even after all this conversation. It was light, buoyant, earnest. Which made this a dead end.
Idly, I wondered if Nikki had been able to reach the girls before they’d jackrabbited out of the room. But at that moment, Dixie straightened, taking an almost involuntary step toward the floor. “Well, as I live and breathe,” she managed in a strangled voice. The hand that gripped her drink was trembling.
“What…” I turned to see what she was focusing on, then grimaced. The great goddess Hera was weaving her way through the dancers on the floor, as heedless of their writhing bodies as a shark plowing through shrimp. For their part, the dancers shifted out of her way and flowed in behind her, their energy enhanced by her passage but their attention still very much on the music and each other.
“Oh. Her,” I said.
Dixie glanced sharply at me, but not in anger. More in full fangirl dither. “You know her?”
“Kind of, yeah,” I said, knocking back a slug of my own drink. “Met her a few days ago. She’s new to the city.”
“She’s fantastic,” Dixie breathed. “She’s a goddess.”
Now it was my turn to peer hard at Dixie, wondering if this was hyperbole or legit adulation. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself,” I fished lamely.
“No, you don’t understand.” Dixie shook her head quickly, blonde curls once more set to full bobble. “She’s beyond Connected. She’s a leader of Connecteds. She’s got that special something that draws others to her like a moth to a flame. The true essence of charisma.”
I jolted. Where had I just heard that word…
And then I had it. The two young women at XS—another club, another pairing of girls, intentional? The one had suffered an overdose of the drug, had been still out of it when I’d seen her last, was no doubt getting a pile of Charisma pumped out of her body even as we spoke. But Dixie didn’t seem to be using it in the context of a drug, and her eyes were practically shining now.
“Would she come over here because of you?” Dixie asked quickly, turning toward me. “She looks like she’s heading right for you. Do I look okay?”
“You look fine,” I said, trying to keep the exasperation from my voice. What was it with these people? First Armaeus was falling all over himself to capture and then entice the goddess to stay, now Dixie was practically in a full-on faint. Still, if ever the
re was an opportunity to make my escape, this was it. “You want me to introduce you?”
“You would?” Her eyes rounded. I finished my drink, setting the glass hard on the counter. I made a swipe for my pocket, realized I didn’t have any pockets, and grimaced. How in the hell was it reasonable that I needed to fish money out of my bra? Who thought this was a good design choice?
Fortunately, the bartender caught my eye and shook his head, warding off any attempt to pay. Apparently, this set of drinks was on the House.
Working hard not to cackle at my own joke, I swung back around as Dixie straightened her picturesque pink hat, and the only way I could describe her smile was: brave. She really was nervous here, which seemed both sweet and ridiculous.
Then Hera neared, and it was my turn to straighten.
“Sara Wilde, I thought that was you.”
Dixie gave a startled bleat at the goddess’s voice, and I snaked my arm out to steady her. I’d had a few opportunities to get used to the overproduced harmony of Hera’s multivoice, but it had clearly caught Dixie by surprise.
“Let me guess, you got sucked into the Ladies’ Night promotion too?” I asked.
Hera startled me by laughing, the sound like pealing bells. Dixie began to tremble. “I did! The Magician was gracious enough to come when he learned my intentions to visit here this night. He worries about me.”
“He does that,” I said easily, wondering at her reactions. Was she willfully ignorant, or did she truly believe that Armaeus was a benign Council buddy? Far from being a worrier, the Magician was a big believer in pushing people past their comfort zone. Half the time, he thrust me into harm’s way simply to see what came out on the other side, like a three-year-old with a Play-Doh grinder. Intellectually, I knew it was because he trusted me and my skill set, but how could Hera have reached that level of comfort with him so quickly? “You’re enjoying it?”
“So much music. The lights.” Hera’s words were brimming over with enthusiasm, and I began to understand what Dixie meant by her natural charisma. It wasn’t her words, or even the freaky way she said them. It was more the excitement she infused everything with—her flashing eyes, expansive gestures, bright and focused attention. A little like Michael, the Hierophant, I realized suddenly. I could feel my own interest in staying close to the woman flaring, and fought it by tugging Dixie forward.
“Well, if you’re going to spend any time in the city, this is someone you need to know. Dixie Quinn.”
Hera’s laser beams of delight turned on Dixie, who practically squeaked. Could be her white neck scarf was tied just a little too snugly. “A mortal?” Hera asked, with curiosity but not an ounce of disdain.
“Not just any mortal, probably the most valuable Connected in the city—Dixie knows everyone, their abilities, their history here. She can help you learn more about the city from a local’s perspective, someone on the ground. Armaeus has been here longer, but…”
“But he doesn’t understand the people, not really.” Hera showed she was a quick study. She reached out both hands to Dixie, making the wedding chapel proprietor freeze. I jostled Dixie, and she remembered herself, jerking her arm free of my hold to lift both her hands to Hera. When the two locked hands, I could feel the pulse of energy before it even hit Dixie.
When it did, her eyes shot wide, her lips parting on a gasp.
“So, right, this is a Connected mortal here,” I said, reaching up to disentangle their hands as Hera blinked down curiously. “Maybe want to take your abilities off stun.”
“Take them…” Hera frowned.
“Moderate your expression of your goddessness. Dial it down a notch.” I snapped my fingers in front of Dixie’s face, and she flinched—but slowly, like she was coming out of a dream. “A mortal—especially a Connected one—who comes at you with a completely open mind is great, but you’ll fill that mind up and overflow it if you’re not careful. Which tends to slow down conversation.”
“Ahh,” Hera said, nodding with self-satisfaction but still a trace of concern, like someone who’d just overtaxed her new puppy in a game of catch. “It has been a while.”
She turned her attention to Dixie, who was shaking her head woozily. “You are unwell?”
“What? No!” Dixie recovered with impressive speed, her smile stretching across her face. “I’m just—well, I daresay I’m delighted to make your acquaintance! If Sara didn’t mention, my name is Dixie.” She turned her animated gaze on me, frowning slightly. “But surely you did, you were so kind to offer to introduce us.”
I stepped into the opening she provided. “Dixie, I’m very happy to introduce you to Hera, newly arrived from, um, Greece. Hera, as I said, please allow me to present Dixie Quinn, astrologer and—”
“Astrologer!” Hera seemed overjoyed with this news, her multivoice rippling with delight. Dixie swayed again on her high heels, and I tensed, but she kept from slipping to the floor in a full swoon. “I should be gratified to hear how the interpretation of the stars has changed since I last gazed upon them through the eyes of a mortal. We have so much to discuss.”
“We…do?” Dixie had started blinking rapidly.
“Well!” I said, clapping my hands together. “If you two ladies want to get to know each other, I’ll just be on my way. Dixie, you good here?”
“I…yes. Oh, yes, I surely am.” She turned to me then, and her face was once more completely transfixed with an expression of awe and more than a little excitement. “We’re…why, we’re going to talk, it seems. Somewhere…”
“Somewhere quieter,” I said firmly, glancing to Hera, who nodded.
“The Magician’s domain?” she offered, and I winced.
“Maybe not that quiet. But there are several restaurants in the hotel. You should just…”
“I know just the place,” Dixie announced, seeming to regain more of her equilibrium. “Darling little café, just off the casino, almost reminds me of Paris proper, though I haven’t been to Paris in an age. Have you?”
“Paris?”
But the two of them were now walking away, Dixie linking her arm in the crook of the goddess’s to pull her through the room. Hera allowed the contact, apparently more than delighted to learn something from her new pet human. That kept both of them occupied for the next little while, which suited me just fine.
Dixie had apparently upgraded the map in her office with a list of MPs and current crimes—not all of which had made it to Brody’s blotter, I suspected. I needed to see what she was doing for myself.
Chapter Sixteen
Nikki was waiting for me out on the sidewalk in front of Paris, and as I emerged from the revolving doors, she jerked her thumb at a cab idling at the curb. Her face was creased in a broad, carefree smile—a little too broad, too carefree, but I waited until we were both in the back of the cab to shoot her a glance.
She shook her head to keep me quiet, then leaned forward to the cabbie. “Can you take us to the Palazzo, sugar plum? Ain’t no way we’ll make it there on foot with all these people.”
The driver agreed enthusiastically, then proceeded to keep up a stream of conversation as we drove. We were locals, yes? You could always tell the locals, always dressed so much better than the tourists. Had we been in the city long? He had been there only three years, but he liked it very much…
Nikki let him talk, and I contented myself with looking out the window. She hadn’t asked where I wanted to go, and I didn’t feel the brush of her psychic touch in my mind—she wasn’t even trying to read me. She merely wanted us at the Palazzo, with a cabbie who wouldn’t shut up, and that was good enough for me.
While we drove, she pulled out one phone from her bra, handed it to me with a terse smile, then pulled out another. The phone she handed me I knew as her usual device, and I folded my hands over it as I watched her text with the second unit. By the time the cabbie pulled up in front of the Palazzo, she seemed satisfied.
“Thanks, baby doll,
you’re a lifesaver,” she crooned to the cabbie as she handed him a wad of cash. “Keep the change.”
“Yes, yes!” the driver said, scrambling for his card. “You need a taxi, you call me direct, yes? I come for you, anytime, day or night. You just call.”
Nikki took it. “We sure will,” she said with a wink. Then we were out of the car and striding up the wide steps toward the Palazzo.
“You planning on us turning in for the night?” I asked as we pushed into the soaring open space of the lobby of the hotel that’d served as my home base for the better part of my tenure in Vegas.
“Elevators down, loading dock,” she said, waving at the security guard who’d come to recognize both of us from all the time we’d spent here. He didn’t bat an eye as we turned left instead of right, heading for the service elevators. Was he Swords too? That would start to get a little eerie, but fortunately, Nikki’s stream of quiet chatter distracted me from thinking about it too hard.
“So, where do you really want to go?” she finally asked. “Because I’m thinking it’s Dixie’s chapel, yeah? You looked like you got further than I did with that little stint, and since you didn’t have Dixie in tow—”
“I do want to go to the chapel. Now.”
She nodded. “That’s what I thought. Car downstairs, one of ours. No more cabs for a while, I’m thinking.”
“Why?” I asked, though I was already getting an inkling of the problem.
Nikki confirmed it as we stepped inside the elevator. “Something seriously weird is going on. Dixie’s got her own plants in the fleets, not sure who or where, but you can bet the guy we just had was one of them.”