by Phil Gabriel
Akiko nodded to herself, erased the null magic spell, and spoke. “I believe this will prevent erosion of my power and self.” She looked at me for approval, smiling when I nodded.
“Excellent work, Akiko-san,” I said as I mentally committed her version of the spell to memory. “I think that’s all we can cover today. I need to exercise.”
I stood stiffly as Akiko floated to her feet, and we broke the circle. Akiko entered the house while I exercised. The push-ups were now easier, movements smoother and faster as I performed the calisthenics taught to me by my teacher many years before.
I occasionally spied Kitty-Sue peeking out the window, watching my exercises. She probably found it funny; my movements compared to hers were like those of a dancing bear compared to the grace of her deadly ballet.
Finally, exhausted and sweaty, I slid the patio door open and entered the house.
Kitty-Sue was at the stove, preparing something that smelled delicious. She was using long chopsticks to cook fried chicken. Aside from the chopsticks, I noticed a wok that I had never purchased. Obviously, she had brought utensils from Japan in one of the large bags I had carted in.
I admired her form as she danced to the music coming from the stereo. She looked back over her shoulder at me and winked while saying, “You better go shower, stinky human. Late lunch will be ready soon.”
“Smells great,” I replied, heading towards the stairs.
Upstairs, both the washer and dryer were running. A sniff indicated no hint of the housekeeper remained. Kitty-Sue had been busy eradicating her scent.
After a refreshing shower, I shaved quickly. A quick brush of my two-toned hair as I heard plates being set on the table downstairs and then I was heading to lunch.
The table was set to perfection: crisp fried chicken steaming fragrantly, stir-fried vegetables, baked rolls in a wicker basket with a tub of butter next to it. Even some American-style mashed potatoes.
I said, “Kitty-Sue, you’re a treasure!” She dimpled at my accolade and motioned us to sit and start eating. Before sitting, I opened the wine rack and pulled out a bottle of red wine and glasses. I popped the cork and filled glasses for all of us. They wouldn’t drink much but would join me in a toast.
Akiko looked over the selection and ghosted her preferred items to her plane, something she couldn’t have done before our lesson.
As we tucked in, me chomping through the feast and the ladies eating delicately, we listened to the stereo and chatted about our trip.
Kitty-Sue glanced at her phone and said, “Thanks for the Wi-Fi password. I’ve been looking at the shows in the casinos tonight. What do you think of Cirque du Soleil?”
“That would be great, Kitty-Sue,” I responded, “but I have already gotten us tickets to see Elvis.”
“Elvis!” she said. “But I was hoping to see something more modern. We can see Elvis impersonators any time.”
“Did I say ‘Elvis impersonator’?” I asked, taking a long sip of the red wine. “I mean the real Elvis. The King of Rock and Roll. The one from Memphis, Tennessee.”
Kitty-Sue gave me the same look she had used when I mentioned the invisible Euterpe to her. “You know he’s dead, right?”
“The rumors of his death have been greatly exaggerated,” I quoted. “I’m talking about the ascended Elvis, launched into deity status due to the adulation of his fans.”
Kitty-Sue and Akiko exchanged a glance, with the clear message they would humor their friend. “OK,” they both said in unison, “we’ll see Elvis!”
Fourteen
The Casino Caper
After our repast, we got ready for our big day out. For me, just a quick brushing of teeth and combing of hair. I could still see some crow’s-feet around my eyes and bags under them, but youth was steadily returning. A few more weeks of good food and exercise would do it. I scooted downstairs to wait for the girls to get ready. Men always have to wait on women, no matter the species or state of being.
I played with the stereo, but Euterpe had ideas about what music I needed to hear. The problem was, her prophetic songs were very hard to use as warnings. ABBA’s “Take a Chance” was playing. Did that mean I should gamble? Or not gamble? I hated prophecies. They were not to be trusted, even the clearest was full of hidden meanings and traps.
Finally, Kitty-Sue and Akiko came down. Akiko had chosen to wear her Japanese schoolgirl costume. I had to admit she looked great but had expected her to dress up for our night out. At my raised eyebrow, she said, “Scott-Sensei, nobody can see me anyway. I prefer to stay comfortable.”
I shrugged and turned my attention to Kitty-Sue. She was wearing a short dress in deep burgundy. The rich fabric molded her athletic frame perfectly and the plunging neckline was enticing, but still high class. She had a pair of stiletto heels in a matching color.
As she walked towards me seductively, hips and tail bouncing, I commented, “I don’t see how my bodyguard can do her job dressed like that. Where are your knives? How can you move in those heels?”
Kitty-Sue smiled sweetly, then jumped over my head in a single bound, leaving her shoes behind. At the top of her arc, her tail brushed the ceiling. She landed at my back without making a sound, then before I could react, I felt the nick of her blade as it pressed against my throat. “I don’t think that will be a problem, Scott-san.”
Holding my hands up in a placating gesture, I said, “OK, I’m convinced.” I waited for a few beats without moving. “Can you take the knife away now?”
With what seemed to be reluctance, she removed the blade. I turned to see where she had hidden it but wasn’t quick enough to catch her. I only caught a glimpse of her panties as she smoothed down the dress.
I picked up Princess, now in the shape of a walking cane, and we exited the house where the Uber I had called was waiting. The driver was a mid-thirties female. She must have had a trace of talent because she did a double-take at Kitty-Sue’s appearance and shivered in the desert heat as Akiko ghosted past her to enter the car. “I’m seeing things,” she muttered.
“Where are you going?” she asked as she put the car in gear and headed towards the exit gate.
“Planet Vegas,” I replied. “We’re going to see the Elvis tribute show.” With a few quick taps on the GPS screen, she had us headed towards the Strip.
We alighted from the Uber cab at the entrance to Planet Vegas. A few of the passing crowd stared at Kitty-Sue and Akiko as they sashayed towards the doors. Akiko noticed the glances and asked, “Can they see us?”
“A lot of those with a touch of talent come to Las Vegas,” I replied. “Usually the first thing very ‘lucky’ people do is try to make a fortune at the casinos.” It usually doesn’t work out for them.
Both Akiko and I paused a second outside the entrance. The area inside and around the casino was devoid of magic, any wisps of supernatural energy immediately burned off as people prayed for just another hit. As I had taught her, Akiko and I shifted to our internal resources, kind of like a swimmer donning a scuba tank.
Kitty-Sue, powered by a different type of magic, didn’t hesitate at the border. Instead, she rushed ahead towards the door.
As we stepped through the doors into the cool foyer, I felt the attention of some practitioner. A quick glance around showed a skinny gray-haired man seated at one of the slot machines located near the entrance was staring at us. He made a gesture, and we were immediately confronted by a trio of tuxedo-clad security guards.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” said the center guard, a six four mountain of muscle with no discernible neck.
I hated dealing with new people. “It’s OK,” I said. “We’re not here to gamble.” I shifted Princess to my left hand and held up my right, palm facing myself. I willed a trickle of energy into the normally invisible tattoo, and an encircled pentagram appeared on the back of my hand. Each arm of the star glowed in a different color, only three in the normal human spectrum. The remaining two colors couldn’t be seen, bu
t they could be felt. The pentagram was an unmistakable way to identify a magician.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kitty-Sue and Akiko brace for a confrontation—Akiko gathering energy from her ring and Kitty-Sue shifting her balance. Princess twisted in my grip, eager for blood. I sent a calming thought her way. No sense in spilling blood over a human speed bump.
“That’s right,” said the guard, ignoring my tattoo and following up by pointing at my chest with a blunt finger, “you’re not gambling because you’re not getting in.” He punctuated by tapping the center of my chest with his finger.
One tap, two taps; before he could tap a third time his wrist was encircled by the tiny clawed hand of Kitty-Sue. She smiled sweetly as he tried to jerk his hand out of her grasp. He should have been able to lift her entire body with one arm, but Kitty-Sue held him effortlessly. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he strained mightily to escape her grip. His biceps strained at the sleeves of his jacket as a vein on his forehead pulsed.
His colleagues stared in surprise. However, all they could see was Kitty-Sue touching his wrist. In their world, there was no way this little Japanese lady could overpower their boss.
“Kitty-Sue,” I said, “don’t hurt him. I’m sure we can settle this peacefully. Is Jonathan still head of security here?”
No-neck didn’t answer, concentrating on his arm-wrestling contest with Kitty-Sue. The guard flanking No-neck on the right replied, “Jonathan retired five years ago. We have a new head now.”
“Could you give him a call, please?” I asked, turning my attention to the lieutenant.
“George,” rumbled No-neck, “don’t call anybody! I’m going to kick his ass.”
George shrugged in acceptance of his boss’ orders.
No-neck had the intelligence to realize punching a sweet young female guest in public would be frowned upon. I saw him make a fist with his left hand, but reluctantly open it a moment later.
Kitty-Sue stepped in closer, putting one delicate high-heeled Jimmy Choo on No-neck’s size fourteen shoe. Her stiletto heel neatly pierced the leather of his shoe, barely missing his big toe. He stared down at Kitty-Sue, who continued to smile sweetly at him. I could tell the instant she dropped her glamour, allowing him to see her inhuman slit eyes and feral grin. He jerked back but was held in place by the unrelenting pressure from Kitty-Sue’s hand and foot. I could see his shoe, and the foot inside, distorting under the pressure from her tiny foot. He was trapped like he had stepped into a bear trap.
“Inhuman bitch,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Kill now?” whispered Kitty-Sue as she held him in her predator’s gaze.
“Not yet,” I answered. “If they won’t call the boss, we can make him show up. Akiko-san, can you see the pattern of the slots?”
“Hai, Scott-Sensei,” she responded, raising her hands to prepare a spell, muttering under her breath about Q inversion. All three guards looked at me like I was mad. Only Kitty-Sue and I could see and hear Akiko.
Addressing the guards, I asked, “Have you ever seen fifty slot machines pay off at once?” At my hint, Akiko sent a wave of magic through the casino floor, touching the slots, altering probability.
It started from the distant end of the floor, the ringing of winning slots, then the sound came towards us in a wave. Over that rising sound, the roar of the crowd rose even louder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the gray-haired spy turn around and start stuffing coins into three slot machines at once. He was sharp enough to spot us, not talented enough to win on his own, but quick enough to take advantage of Akiko’s spell.
Through gritted teeth, the head security guard said, “Tell control to shut down the slots. Some kind of computer virus has them screwing up.”
“Good cover story,” I said. “How are you going to explain fifty blackjack wins at once?” At my nod, Akiko unleashed another spell, aimed at the blackjack tables. She skipped the low stakes tables and targeted the high stakes tables.
As the slots shut down, turned off at the control center, the greedy crowd groaned in disappointment and anger. Only to be distracted by the shouts of “Blackjack!” coming from the gaming tables.
“Damn!” I said. “Looks like the cards have caught some kind of pasteboard virus.” No-neck still had a stubborn look on his face; I could tell he would not give way. Time for a more expensive lesson. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George step back quietly as he brought his phone out.
“We’ll shut down the blackjack tables too, asshole!” said No-neck.
“Now roulette,” I mused, “that’s a great game. I wonder what would happen if everyone at the table decided to bet on double zero? What are the odds that they would all win?” With a quick, invisible bow, Akiko popped out.
While the silent tug-of-war between the sweetly smiling Kitty-Sue and No-neck continued, I smiled blandly at the other two guards. A shout from the roulette section indicated that Akiko was working the wheel. The two junior guards whispered to each other.
Akiko popped back with a smile and a bow. “Scott-Sensei, I like gambling!”
“Good!” I said. “Do you want to do it again?”
Kitty-Sue turned her head towards me, still holding the enormous guard in place with no apparent effort. “Sir James,” she said sweetly, “will the next number be seven?”
I loved women who got my jokes. I nodded and turned to Akiko, ready to send her out to cause more monetary mayhem to the casino.
Before I could send her out again, a short, pudgy man in a very expensive business suit hurried up. At his arrival, the two junior guards stiffened to attention.
“Fred,” he said sharply to No-neck, “what’s the meaning of this? Unhand that guest!”
Fred looked down at Kitty-Sue, face getting even redder than previously, and reluctantly lowered his arm. As Kitty-Sue eased the pressure on his foot, he tried one last trick, jerking his foot back to try to unbalance her. He only succeeded in breaking the stiletto heel of her shoe off, as it remained impaled in his footwear. Kitty-Sue gave him a look that most sane men would do anything to avoid. Her fingers cocked in a gesture that signaled she would bring knives out in an instant. She held back due to the arrival of the new manager.
“I’m the shift manager, Jason Bradley. Pleased to meet you.” He nodded at Kitty-Sue.
“Now, Mister...?” said the manager, waiting for me to fill in the name.
I considered what name to use. Kitty-Sue had already called me Sir James, but I didn’t think the guards had noticed. With a reminder to discuss OPSEC with Kitty-Sue, I answered, “Just call me Scott.”
“Mr. Scott—” he started.
“No, just Scott,” I insisted. Once again, I held my hand up and willed the encircled pentagram to appear.
He looked at it in awe and reached out with a finger as if wanting to touch the tattoo. “Jonathan told me about you people. I thought he was getting senile.” I willed the tattoo to fade away.
“It’s just fucking stage magic,” muttered Fred as he bent over to pull Kitty-Sue’s stiletto heel from his shoe. “He did something to the slot machine computers, some kind of virus...” Fred trailed off at the nasty look he received from Jason.
“Fred,” he said flatly, “we’ll be very lucky if the Gaming Commission doesn’t shut us down. I’m going to blame you. You probably downloaded a virus somehow.” He said it in the voice of a man trying a lie on for size.
“Yes,” he said, looking at the remaining guards, “I’m sure that’s what happened.” Coming to a decision, he said, “Fred, you’re fired. I never want to see you on the premises again.”
Fred opened his mouth to argue, looked at his former subordinates, who were fingering their Tasers with barely contained glee, and decided the better part of valor was to shut up. He threw Kitty-Sue’s stiletto heel down on the floor in disgust and walked past me, trying to bump my shoulder in passing as he muttered, “This isn’t over, asshole.”
I sidestepped his bump and taunted his retreati
ng back. “Hey, Fred, come on back when you can beat my girlfriend arm-wrestling.” The monster stopped in his tracks, hunched his shoulders, and was about to spin around. If he came back, I was going to unleash Princess on him. Fortunately for him, two Las Vegas patrol officers walked through the door, probably called by Jason before he came down. Fred continued on his way.
A whispered consultation with the LVMPD and they left. Motioning to the two guards to leave, Jason turned back to us. “Planet Vegas apologizes for the misunderstanding. We’d like to offer you the use of a VIP suite and free run of all of our restaurants and bars.”
Looking at Kitty-Sue, balanced perfectly on her remaining high-heeled shoe, Jason said, “Of course, we’d like to offer compensation for the misunderstanding and the damage to your friend’s attire.”
Kitty-Sue looked at me and shrugged, leaving the bargaining to me. “We accept your kind offer of the suite and amenities. For the damage to my friend’s wardrobe and compensation, I believe fifty should cover it.”
Looking at the Jimmy Choo shoes on Kitty-Sue’s feet, which ran over a grand per pair, Jason said hesitantly, “Fifty...dollars?”
“No,” I replied blandly. “Fifty thousand. In cash or chips.”
Jason was thinking furiously; he had lost much more than that from the slots, blackjack, and roulette games. “Cash would be best, I think,” he said. “If we could perhaps request you not gamble? Games of chance hardly seem as if they would interest a man of your nature.”
“You’re right,” I said, “I almost never gamble.” I threw in a sweetener. “And I can promise not to influence any games of chance on your premises.”
Jason considered the words carefully, his brow furrowed. “Is it true,” asked Jason, “that you people can’t lie?”
Kitty-Sue chimed in. “Not can’t, won’t. If he promises you something, you can take that as a guarantee.” The invisible Akiko nodded along with Kitty-Sue’s statement.
“I think we can agree to that,” said Jason with a look of relief on his face. “So we can restart the play?” he asked.