“Sure, sure,” said Malcolm.
We’re staying at a hotel in a casino. Even if it’s dangerous, it’ll still be the most fun I’ve had at work in a very long time.
“Alright,” said Tapestry. She looked at Melanie. “Remember to lock the doors before heading to bed. We’ll be back soon.”
The Hawktail Casino was a couple of hours outside of Vanderbrook, nestled in a small slice of Native American territory in the middle of a wildlife reserve. The area was ill suited for farming, with only scrub grass and weeds growing for miles around.
The drive went quickly, with Malcolm taking a turn for the second half. The casino stood out like a sore thumb on the empty grass plains. It was several buildings, more of a small, urban settlement than a single structure.
The hotel was a ten-story tower with all the expected extras. There were several pools on one side, a large garden with a couple of greenhouses in the back, and several outdoor eating areas. The casino itself was a long rectangular building attached by a slender hallway. Everything was plastered with neon lights and gaudy decorations.
Malcolm drove the car into the main parking area, leaving it to a valet as several bagboys helped them with their luggage. Tapestry looked a little out of her element, which was also exactly how he felt.
“I guess… we check in and head up to the room Savior booked for us?” he suggested.
“Sounds as good of an idea as any,” said Tapestry.
The front entrance doors were automatic, and slid open with a whoosh. The lobby on the other side was playing soft jazz music. A clerk sat behind the counter, smiling and nodding to Malcolm and Tapestry as they approached.
“Hello,” said Malcolm. “We have a reservation. It should be under ‘Adams’, I think.”
It was the fake last name Savior had instructed him to use. Malcolm watched, a little nervous, as the clerk considered them.
“Ah, right,” said the clerk. “The newlyweds. Your father in law was very specific about the two of you getting a romantic room.”
“My… father in law,” said Malcolm. “Sure, of course.”
“It’s already paid for,” said the clerk. “All I need from the two of you is a signature, and you can head right on up to the Erotic Suite.”
“What?” Tapestry frowned and folded her arms.
“That’s what it’s called,” said the clerk. “Complete with a jacuzzi, a vibrating bed, a cabinet full of scented oils, various toys, and edible underwear. I’ve hear nothing but praise for it from the other couples who’ve stayed there. The two of you are quite fortunate that it was available.”
“You hear that, honey?” said Malcolm, grinning. “It sounds like we’ll have lots of stuff to play around with.”
Tapestry’s face turned deep, crimson red. She looked like she was suppressing the urge to glare at Malcolm, and struggling with it.
She needs to work on her acting skills.
“The bag boys will bring your luggage up,” said the clerk. “For the Erotic Suite, the general cleaning format is reversed, so our staff will only come into the room if you place the paper signal on the door knob. Keep that in mind, especially if the two of you have an… intense night.”
“We… we’re just… it’s not…” Tapestry spoke through gritted teeth, trying and failing to find a way to explain the situation without blowing their cover.
“She’s a little reserved when it comes to this kind of thing,” said Malcolm, putting an arm around her. “Come on shnookums, let’s go check out that edible underwear.”
“I… am going… to murder you,” whispered Tapestry.
They followed the bagboy into the elevator, up to the seventh floor, and then into a large, romance themed suite. The bed was in the shape of a massive heart, and there were several strategically placed mirrors on the walls and ceiling.
“Thanks,” Malcolm said to the bagboy. He gave him a small tip before he left, shutting the door and turning to find Tapestry checking for something under the bed.
“There must be… some type of smaller sleeping futon here, or something,” she said.
There wasn’t, and other than a couple of chairs, it was just the bed and the floor for sleeping options.
“We’ll have to share the bed,” said Malcolm. “Will you survive that, or is it too traumatic for you?”
“I’m sure they have something,” said Tapestry. “We could get in touch with the front desk.”
“We have a cover to keep up, remember?” asked Malcolm. “What’s your deal? It’s not like we haven’t, well, you know…”
He and Tapestry had been intimate with each other on a couple of occasions in the past, though it wasn’t a regular thing. Their last encounter had been before their headquarters had been destroyed, and neither of them had spoken of it since.
“What’s my deal?” asked Tapestry. “This is insulting. Marriage isn’t something that you just ‘pretend’ for the sake of a cover story.”
“Well…” Malcolm walked up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. “Maybe we should take our pretending to the next level?”
Tapestry elbowed him in the stomach, hard. Malcolm doubled over, staring at her in surprise.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this before…
“I’m not going to debase the sanctity of real marriage for the sake of a disguise,” she said, bitterly.
“You could have just said that!” said Malcolm. “Jeez, has anyone ever told you that you have really sharp elbows?”
Tapestry’s expression softened a little.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just… I was married once. For many years… before I lost my husband.”
She sat down on the bed, and Malcolm joined her, after determining that she was no longer in a mood for violence.
“My bad,” he said.
“I’m going to take a shower,” said Tapestry.
Malcolm stood up when she did. He held his hands up in mock surrender.
“Relax,” he said. “I just want to check out the jacuzzi.”
And okay… maybe I was possibly hoping to jump in the shower with her.
CHAPTER 13
Malcolm had seen swimming pools with less water volume than the jacuzzi in their bathroom. It was currently empty, but the massive, auto-filling spigot promised that it wouldn’t take long to ready if they so desired.
Tapestry gave him the evil eye until he left the bathroom once she was ready for the shower. Malcolm listened to the sound of her starting the water, suddenly feeling like it had been an eternity since he’d seen her naked.
Tapestry is so mean.
He found the remote for the flat screen against the wall across from the bed and turned it on. Surprisingly, it was tuned in to one of the Vanderbrook local news stations.
“The #nosavior movement has been gaining in popularity online,” said the female anchor. “Many people in Vanderbrook blame the champions for the recent episodes of unrest.”
“It’s easy to understand why, Diane,” said the male anchor. “More often than not, their battles against the demons and sprytes they hunt spill over into the streets, causing property damage and often death.”
“The support is not unanimous, however,” said the female anchor. “The counter movement, #savedme, is also gaining in popularity. Joining us live is Brett Larson, with a local woman who says that she has indeed been saved. Brett?”
The scene cut to the street, where another anchor stood with a finger to his ear.
“Thanks, Diane,” said Brett. “A local bank in Vanderbrook suffered a robbery a week and a half ago. I’m here with Misha Bartwell, who says that a champion showed up and saved the day.”
The camera panned to a woman standing next to Brett. Malcolm recognized her immediately.
“Not just the day,” said the woman. “Wind Runner saved me. The bank robbers were unloading their guns. There was nowhere for us to run, or hide. If he hadn’t been there, I would be dead.”
“You h
eard it here,” said Brett.
“I’m serious!” said the woman. “It’s easy to blame the champions for their failures, because we’ve grown so used to their successes. It’s not about a movement, or a counter movement. It’s about the fact that I’m still alive, because of him.”
Malcolm turned the TV off. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning, ear to ear.
Tapestry was still in the shower, and Malcolm felt bored and a little antsy. He opened his luggage and looked at the clothes that Wax had prepared for him.
It was all high-end stuff, suit jackets, dress shirts and pants, and several clip-on bow ties. Malcolm also found a pair of nerdy looking glasses with a note attached to them.
“Wear these so nobody recognizes you as Wind Runner?” Malcolm frowned as he read it out loud.
Who would be dumb enough to think that a pair of glasses would disguise someone’s identity?
He kept the glasses nearby, figuring that it was better than nothing, and it was important for him to go unnoticed. He changed into a full suit, surprised by how perfectly it fit him, and then put the glasses on.
“Tapestry,” he called. “I’m heading down to the casino.”
There was no response. Malcolm made sure that he had one of the electric key cards for the door, and then headed down the hall to the elevator.
The casino was down another hallway off the side of the lobby. It was everything Malcolm could have expected, and more. Everyone was dressed in expensive clothing. People were already drinking, even though it was still early in the evening.
Beautiful women stood at the sides of pompous looking men as games of cards, dice, and roulette played out. Cocktail waitresses in revealing dresses swirled through the room with platters of exotic looking drinks.
“Mr. Adams?” One of the floor managers, a tall, professional looking woman, stepped up next to him. “Would you like to put any more money onto your betting account?”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow.
“Any… more money?” he asked.
“Yes,” said the woman. “You have a current allowance of twenty thousand, but if you were interested, we could leverage that up to twice that amount through the casino’s credit program.”
“Twenty thousand… dollars?” said Malcolm.
“Yes,” said the woman.
He felt his head spinning. That was more money than he could ever imagine gambling with. It made him feel very strange knowing that Savior had put that much onto his account for betting, while Malcolm’s own bank balance was currently in the low double digits.
“I…” Malcolm slowly shook his head. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Perhaps with a drink?” The floor manager nodded to a passing cocktail waitress, and suddenly Malcolm had a tropical looking drink in his hand.
“Sure,” he said.
“If you’re new to gambling in general, I would suggest you give dice poker a try,” said the woman. “It’s a very simple game, easy to get into and unique to the Hawktail. Stakes are low, and most guests just play for fun.”
“Dice poker?” asked Malcolm. “Like Yahtzee?”
The floor manager gave him a queer look, as though she had no idea what he was talking about. She set one of her hands on his shoulder and subtly began leading him over to a small, circular table in the corner. Malcolm adjusted his fake glasses and cleared his throat.
“Mr. Fleschman,” said the floor manager. “I’ve found you a new player.”
A short, fat man stood at one side of the dice poker table, with a bombshell of a brunette on his arm. A uniformed woman who was either a dealer, or a banker was also at the table. Malcolm thanked the floor manager and took his spot across from the fat man.
“Uh, nice to meet you,” said Malcolm. “I’m… John Adams.”
“Like the President,” said the fat man. “Exquisite. My name is Hans Fleischmann, and this is my wife, Olga.”
“It is a pleasure,” said the attractive brunette. She was wearing a sparkling blue dress, low cut enough to reveal the extensive cleavage of her large breasts. She held Malcolm’s gaze for long enough to make him sweat.
“It’s fine if I join your game?” he asked.
“Of course,” said Hans. “Are you familiar with the rules?”
Not even close.
“I am,” said Malcolm. “But why don’t you… go over them once more, in case I’m mistaken about something.”
“You just roll five dice,” said Hans. “And try to get pairs. If you roll five numbers in numerical order, you get a straight, which beats all hands other than five of a kind. All dice are visible to all players at all times, so it’s really a game of luck, rather than skill.”
“Got it,” said Malcolm. “So it is kind of like Yahtzee.”
Hans gave him an odd look, and then went on explaining as though he hadn’t heard him.
Is that like a dirty word around here, or something?
“You roll once to start,” said Hans. “Pick which dice to hold. Reroll the others. Really quite simple.”
The uniformed woman was already setting out chips, about five thousand dollars’ worth for each of them, onto their respective sides of the table. Malcolm frowned, feeling like he was still in over his head, but also vaguely aware of the fact that it wasn’t his money he’d be losing.
“Well then,” said Hans. “Shall we begin?”
CHAPTER 14
Malcolm lost the first hand in short order, getting a pair on his first roll and nothing additional on the second. The pot was only $400, between the two of them, but it was a weird sensation watching that much money slide across the table, out of his hands.
“The opposite of beginner’s luck,” said Hans. “I hope that does not scare you away?”
“Of course not,” said Malcolm.
“You should be careful,” said Olga, Hans’ wife. “Hans is very good at finding his opponent’s weaknesses.”
She leaned forward slightly, adjusting her brunette braid and pushing her breasts out. Malcolm tried his best to not ogle.
“Where are you from, John?” asked Hans. “International, or here in the states?”
It took Malcolm a second to realize that he was John, and react accordingly.
“Canada,” he said. “I live in, uh, Toronto. Newly married.”
Hans and his wife made a noise of approval.
“You must have quite a fun wife to come to a place like this on your honeymoon,” said Hans.
The two of them rolled the dice for another hand. Malcolm kept three fives, and picked up the two other dice to reroll.
“And yourself?” asked Malcolm.
“Vacation,” said Hans. “I operate an exotic animal hunting operation in Tanzania.”
Malcolm quirked an eyebrow. Hans looked like he barely did much walking, let alone hunting.
“Like… tracking lions and rhinos?” he asked, frowning as he considered how distasteful he personally found that kind of thing.
“We have a reservation,” said Hans. “Most of my clients are more interested in the trophy, than the experience.”
Malcolm took his second roll, ending up with nothing additional to the three of a kind. Hans won the round with a full house, and almost a thousand dollars of Malcolm’s betting money.
I can’t keep losing like this. If this game is really luck based, I shouldn’t be losing this much…
“It sounds like the animals don’t get much of a chance,” said Malcolm.
“It’s not good business to give them a chance,” said Hans, chuckling. Next to him, his wife Olga sighed and rolled her eyes.
They started another round. Malcolm had a terrible first roll, and Hans took advantage of it, betting heavily and forcing him to fold early. He was already down several thousand dollars.
“Would you like another drink, Mr. Adams?” asked a cocktail waitress.
“Uh…”
She passed him another of whatever he’d been drinking before into his hand, accepting h
is hesitation as a yes.
“So, what do you do, John?” asked Hans. “You must have quite the career to afford to honeymoon in a place like this.”
“I… work for a security firm,” said Malcolm. “I’m an executive there.”
“Sounds exciting,” said Olga.
“It can be, at times,” said Malcolm. “It’s an international operation. The line of work has its perks, but can also be a little stressful.”
If they only knew the half of it…
He played a few more hands, continuing to lose money at an alarming rate. Malcolm didn’t feel any real attachment to the chips or the value behind them. He was resigned to losing it, if he had to, for the sake of keeping his cover, as long as he and Tapestry were successful in their mission.
“This is an exciting weekend at the Hawktail,” said Hans. “It was my wife’s idea to fly out here. Very spur of the moment.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so?” he asked. “And why’s that?”
“Golden Joab,” said Olga. “He is a magician who performs for the public very rarely. I am… a big fan of his.”
“A big fan?” Malcolm smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I’d love to ask you some questions, if you have the time to talk.”
Both Olga and Hans started laughing. Malcolm took his next roll, not really paying attention and not really caring about whether he won or lost.
“John, that’s a new one,” said Hans. “I’ve grown very used to men propositioning my wife over the years. Usually not men so young, and usually not with that much subtly.”
“I’m serious,” said Malcolm. “I’ve heard a lot about Golden Joab. I’d love to get some more information, if your wife is a fan.”
“You should focus on the game, John!” said Hans. “I feel bad taking all your money.”
It wasn’t far from the truth. Malcolm was down to his last five thousand. He licked his lips, considering his options, and decided to try something stupid.
Wind Runner: The Complete Collection Page 41