The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection)

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The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection) Page 4

by A. C. Nicholls


  “Fortunately for him, yes.” Link burrowed his face into my neck, whispering desperate gratitude. I tried my best to focus on the conversation, letting the heat from my hand simmer down. “So how about it? Help me to help you?”

  The werewolf grunted, shrugging the slipping coat back onto his shoulders. “There was a witness to this madness. Someone who saw the destruction. That was how I knew where to come. Head to Stoke Point and look for Karen Saunders.”

  I hid my smile as best I could, thrilled that I had finally gotten something from this hairy bastard. “Thanks. But I didn’t catch your name.”

  He seemed untrusting, like a starving animal questioning a perfectly good bowl of food. The quizzical look he gave made me feel a little uneasy – I knew that he could clench his jaws around me before I could conjure another fire. Luckily, he didn’t.

  “Jason,” he admitted.

  “Okay, Jason. My name is Keira Poe.” I breathed a sigh of relief, now that the pleasantries were over. “I’m going to speak to this woman and see what she knows. If I find out anything useful, you can rest assured that your brother will be avenged.”

  “You’d better hope so.” In a single leap, Jason jumped up onto a nearby branch, making a rapid transformation into man-wolf. My long, black coat flapped around behind him. It suited him, actually – lent him a certain style. He craned his neck to look down at me, his face still turning into animalistic beauty, and his voice grew deeper. “Because if you let me down, I’ll be coming back for you.”

  And just like that, he dove from the branch and into the darkness, leaving Link and me alone in the park, with nothing more than a single lead to follow. If I was really lucky, something might come of it. Otherwise, I would be facing the wrath of a werewolf, for a crime I didn’t even commit.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Forty-five minutes, two swollen heels and a blister later, I wound up at Stoke Point – a rich suburb in the north of Chicago. There was only one home up here and it was well-renowned for its sheer size. The mansion was bigger than I had pictured in my head, too, and far more luxurious than anything I’d seen in the movies.

  “Nice,” Link said, giving a half-whistle from my shoulder.

  I studied the huge pillars that made up the front porch, the perfect red brick laced with gold paint, and the enormous windows that revealed the party going on inside. Ivy snaked up the walls, but I was probably too heavy to climb it.

  Link let out a short, sharp laugh. It was one of those that had obviously meant to be heard. “I bet you wish you had kept the teleportation card, huh?”

  “Shut up,” I said flatly, but he was right. I couldn’t see a way inside, or even onto the roof. Not from here at least. I even wondered if setting fire to one of the flowerbeds might draw some attention to the front garden. At least then I could sneak inside and figure things out from there. Stupid, I know, but effective.

  Just as I began to consider it, the front door sprung open. The music drifting from inside grew louder – some fancy ballroom stuff that would have made me a little uncomfortable if I were on the other side of that door. As a reflex, I ducked behind the nearest bush and watched the people leave. The well-dressed party goers walked down the front path and climbed into their limos, laughing at something one of them had said.

  “You know,” Link said, licking his lips, “you could always try asking the witness.”

  Of course the thought had crossed my mind, but I really wanted an insight to who she was. If she were a normal, everyday citizen, she would have freaked out to see a mage destroying a pack of wolves with magic. I know I would have, and it was my job. So then, who exactly was Karen Saunders? Something special, I was willing to wager.

  I waited for the front door to close, and then stalked around the side of the building. The music still sang from inside, but it was quieter now, as if the after-party had begun and everyone was sitting down to enjoy each other’s conversation.

  But I hadn’t seen any more movement from inside.

  Link suddenly tapped me on the shoulder, and then pointed up to a balcony, where a door stood open and the flowing white drapes reached out toward the sky. Beside the door stood a water feature that looked just tall enough for me to climb.

  “Well spotted,” I whispered, and began my ascent to the balcony.

  My feet hit the stone as I hopped over the rail, and I quickly slipped inside. I found myself in a dark bedroom with only a bedside lamp for light. A strong smell of lavender filled the air – so strong I had to pinch my nose to keep from sneezing.

  Even though breaking and entering wasn’t a habit of mine. I sought solace in the fact that there was no breaking involved, so technically I was just… entering. To most people, that might seem like a bullshit technicality, but I reminded myself that every life in Chicago – possibly in the world – was at stake.

  A little rummage through the drawers would also have been frowned upon, but I was looking for something to give me a clear indication of what I was up against. A mage’s cloak or a vampire’s pendant would have done nicely, but the most interesting thing I could find was a first edition of Dorian Gray. Cool, but not useful in the slightest.

  The bedroom light snapped on, blinding and startling me all at once.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  I turned toward the voice, Link crawling down my back to seek cover as I saw the old woman. Her strong jaw and piercing blue eyes looked deceivingly kind under her scowl.

  “This… Uh…” I struggled for words – for any kind of excuse that might explain my unwelcome entry into someone’s bedroom. Instead, my explanation fell short and a wave of dread washed over me, as the woman raised a pistol… and took aim at my chest.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It may be true that I can take a fall from a fifty-foot drop and still land on my feet, but I’m not immune to gunfire. At a range this close, a bullet would do more than give me a tummy ache.

  The woman took a step toward me and put the lip of the gun barrel against my hip. Her eyes hosted a threatening glow. “I’m going to ask you one more time; who are you, and what are you doing inside my home?”

  I could have lit up my arm and blasted her away right then and there, but then any clues she could provide would go up in smoke right along with her. I needed information from this woman, and I wasn’t going to get it by starting a fight with her.

  Slowly, I raised my hands above my head, making it as clear as possible that I meant no harm. “Are you Karen Saunders?” I shook my head, a signal to ignore that question. I was in no position to be demanding answers. “I’ve been speaking to a man named Jason about an incident at Jackson Park. He told me that you know something about what happened there.”

  The woman’s eyes shifted from me to the window, and then at my shoulder, where Link had been sitting only seconds before we’d been caught. “What are you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What are you?” she asked again, this time with a shorter fuse. “Wolf, mage, witch?”

  How much did she know? Either way, I had no problem fessing up to somebody who clearly knew about all the things that went bump in the night. “I’m Keira Poe – Cardkeeper of the Chicago Pillar.”

  I felt her eyes rove over me, summing me up.

  Finally, she lowered the pistol. “Close the doors and come downstairs.” She headed for the well-lit landing, stopping just outside the door. “Bring your faery with you.”

  As soon as she retreated, I could feel Link scrambling up my back and leaning on my shoulder with his hands. His bare toenails dug into my back like a makeshift perch. “Phew. For a minute there, I thought she was going to shoot you.”

  I crooked my neck to glare at him. “Then thanks for jumping in.”

  “Hey,” he said, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with his arm. “You’re the one with the magic. I’m just a handsome little faery – nothing more.”

  “I’m starting to understand how you haven’t earned your wings.


  Link huffed, pulled himself up and crossed his arms like a defiant child having a tantrum. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  It was easier to ignore than endure. I closed the balcony doors as the woman had asked, and made my way downstairs. The exquisite beauty of the mansion’s interior shocked me. I mean, I had seen my fair share of stunning buildings – the Vault for one – but the décor in this place reeked of money and class. Oil paintings adorned the oak-paneled walls. Green plants brightened up the corners, and the huge landing overlooked an enormous stairwell. Awed by the grandeur of it all, I made my way downstairs and into a living room that could have been used as a landing strip.

  Karen – assuming of course that it was Karen – ushered her last three guests out the door, promising that she would explain it to them later. When we were finally alone, she sat on one of the couches and gestured for me to sit across from her.

  With fearful hesitation, I sank into the plush wingback opposite her and snuggled down into the cushions. If I wanted her to talk, I needed to obey her command. I waited, trying to peel my eyes away from the ridiculously high ceiling. Blinking a few times, I chased the bright light from my eyes. Keeping myself from staring at the place was my next challenge.

  “So, you’re a Cardkeeper,” the woman said, crossing her legs and patting down her black skirt. “I haven’t seen one of your kind in quite some time. Must have been around twenty years ago, in London.”

  I was familiar with the Keeper of London’s pillar. His name was Owen and he came from a rich family. A smarmy asshole who couldn’t help but brag about his wealth. Thankfully, I’d had no reason to work alongside him, and hopefully never would.

  “How is it you know about faeries and Keepers?”

  “Let’s just say I have a history with a mage.”

  Link slid down my arm and sat beside me on the couch. I wasn’t sure if he understood social etiquette, but he sat quietly. It made for a pleasant change.

  “Listen, I’m sorry for breaking into your beautiful home.”

  The woman gave an upturn of her thin lips, but said nothing.

  “It looked like you were having a party,” I went on, “and I didn’t want to interrupt. For all I knew, I could have been wandering into a vampire den, and that wouldn’t have ended well for me.”

  “It’s all right. You’re forgiven,” said the woman. “You were looking for Karen Saunders and you’ve found her. What is it you wanted to know?”

  I want to know what you are. I want to know how you can be so aware of the monsters around you, and still act so damn normal. Mortals didn’t tend to last long if they interfered with the lifestyle of creatures, much less if they had witnessed a massacre.

  “What did you see at the park last night?”

  Karen sat up straight and cleared her throat. Her false-as-hell smile suddenly dropped into a frown, either from displeasure or fear. “You’re familiar with otherworldly things, so I’ll talk openly.”

  I nodded, sitting up and moving to the edge of my seat.

  “There was a charity ball in that area, and I’d had no choice but to attend. It was an entirely mortal affair, save for the one mage that I’ve known for years. I was thrilled to see him again, so I made my approach and tried to catch his attention. Only, something was different about him. His eyes had a purplish glow – something sinister.” Karen lowered her eyes, an expression of sadness stealing away her expression. “Imagine if you had known somebody intimately for many moons, and then one day they looked right through you. It was like his body had been hollowed out, and his soul replaced with someone else’s.” She shook her head. “No, like something else lived inside of him.”

  I said nothing, waiting with rapt attention for her next words.

  “The mage left shortly after that, taking the back door. You have to understand, this was unusual for him – he liked to be the center of attention. Of course, handsome features and unrelenting charm gave him that confidence.

  “Anyway, I decided to follow him, curious to see exactly what he was up to. I don’t consider it acceptable to follow people and spy on them, but like I told you, I had a history with this man. I wanted to see what had changed.

  “We made it to the park, where I hid behind a tree and watched him waltz off into the dark. There were teenagers hurling unprovoked abuse at him, and a group of hooded men were also following him. I wanted to call the police, but–”

  I suddenly had an idea of where this conversation was headed. “You didn’t have to.”

  “Exactly.” Karen dabbed her wrist below her nose, as if trying her hardest not to cry. But her wavering voice gave away her emotions. “They surrounded him, shoved him around while he did nothing. He looked like a lost little boy. They must have pushed him over the edge, because he spread out his arms – like an angel, I suppose – and a purple light shone from him.

  “There was a blast. An explosion. The boys were launched through the air, thrown around like ragdolls, and landed across the park.” She paused and chased away a shiver by rubbing her arms with her trembling hands. “One of them fell at my feet, so I witnessed first-hand what happened to him next.”

  I wanted to put my arm around Karen and still her quivering body, which was drenched in the pain of her unpleasant memories. But underneath it, her lingering pride wouldn’t allow her to break down, so I remained seated. I settled for a quiet swallow, my mouth turning dry as I listened. “Go on.”

  “Purple light crawled all over the young man, eating him like it was alive. I began to see a transformation into his true self. His claws came out, but the light turned them to ash within seconds. By the time his wolfish face appeared, I got only a brief glimpse of the fear reflected in his eyes, before his entire body obliterated into nothing but dust in the breeze.”

  I sat quietly, taking this in. Link shifted uncomfortably beside me. He must have been terrified of what we were up against. I knew I was.

  “This man is a monster,” Karen said, looking up and directly into my eyes. “A mere shadow of his former self. If there’s any chance that you can stop him, I advise you do it sooner rather than later.”

  Needless to say, I was totally blown away by the story – petrified, but fascinated nonetheless. “If you don’t mind my asking, why is it that you seem more haunted by the death of the werewolves than the fact that they actually exist? Mages are one thing, but–”

  “I’m a witch, dear. Nothing gets by me.”

  She admitted it with such confidence that, had I been standing, the news would have knocked me down. A witch. That explained everything; how she knew about the underworld, why I couldn’t sense her magic. Witches’ magic is different from Cardkeepers’. It comes from somewhere below, a different source entirely. It was darker, but equally powerful. On the bright side, they usually kept to themselves.

  “I see.” Tense, I stretched my back and scooped Link into my hands. “Would it be too much trouble to give me the name of the mage? You say you knew him.”

  “Yes, I did,” Karen said. “We were lovers back in the day. You might know him, actually. His name is Victor Kronin.”

  A chill shot through me, freezing me in place. Of course I knew the name – the man made nightmares look like daydreams. As if I didn’t fear the Chaos thief enough to begin with, this revelation pushed my confidence back a few steps.

  “Thank you for the information,” I said, picking up Link and rushing to leave.

  Karen looked confused. “Wouldn’t you like to stay for some refreshment?”

  “I really have to get going. Thanks again.”

  I blew out the front door in a flash, rushing down the half-mile driveway. I had no idea what to do with this new information, other than give it to somebody braver and hide until this whole ordeal was over.

  “Where are we going?” Link asked, clutching my sleeve.

  “To the Vault,” I said, breaking into a sprint.

  That chill lingered on my spine. Goosebumps rais
ed on my arms. Nobody had ever left me feeling as utterly helpless as Victor Kronin had. I needed to get to the vault and seek help, and I had to do it before my nerves overwhelmed me.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As much as I wanted to just go home and hide under the duvet, I knew that this responsibility had to land on someone. Anyone else would do – hell, it could be Link for all I cared. As long as I didn’t have to go toe-to-toe with Victor Kronin, nothing else mattered.

  Storming so fast that my hair trailed behind me, I crossed the main floor of Jasper’s VHS store and stopped at the counter. I probably looked as pale as a ghost. “I need a portal.”

  Jasper lowered his newspaper prop so just his eyes peeked over the headlines and sat up in his ragged office chair. “You do, do you? And what’s in it for me?”

  “I’m not in the mood for games, pal. Please just do it.”

  Red in the face, Jasper deflated and narrowed his eyes as though he wanted to question my blunt arrival. He must have thought better of it, as he climbed straight up out of the chair and passed through the red curtain at the back of the store.

  “Stay here,” I said to Link, setting him down on the counter and following Jasper. I passed the curtain and watched him work, wishing I could light a fire under his ass. This was an emergency situation.

  Almost casual enough to be smooth, Jasper’s fingers wound in a circle, and the portal began to open. A steady breeze blew through, making an even bigger mess of my tangled hair. I stared inside, in awe of his skill. “Before you go,” he said, arms outstretched to hold the spell, “how about a kiss?”

  I ignored Jasper, slid on a robe and dove straight through the portal, pretending I didn’t notice the contorted look on his face. Like a pedophile with an outdated laptop – a harmless one, albeit, but a pervert nonetheless.

 

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