Wild Card (Etudes in C# Book 1)

by Jamie Wyman

  Marius didn’t get the opportunity to answer. Something chose that exact moment to bust in my door.

  Chapter Eight

  “Slow Cheetah”

  I screamed as the door exploded with a crack of splintering wood and popping metal. Standing in a cloud of mist was a bulky figure, its skin glistening gray and white. It had the basic shape of a man—head, arms, legs, and all in the appropriate places—yet the thing could never have passed for human. Its head resembled a shark, coming to an unnatural point, sloping off into his back without bothering with the formality of a neck. Twin glassy eyes stared out of its face, black and soulless like a doll’s. And that mouth… Row upon row of jagged, razor-sharp teeth forced its jaws apart.

  I scrambled backward to put as much distance between me and the thing as I could. As I skittered up and over the arm of the sofa, I fell to the floor with a painful thud. My heart raced, and I gulped in panicked breaths.

  Instinct took over. I hopped up, grabbed Marius by the arm and yanked him toward my bedroom. I slammed the door behind us, locked it, and started using anything I could find as a barricade. A chair. A dead server I was hoping to Frankenstein someday.

  “Help me. Get the other side,” I said, pulling at the dresser. When no help came, I looked up to see Marius jiggling the lock on my window. “What are you doing? Help me or it will get both of us!”

  “Not if I get out of here. Then it will just get you.”

  “You can’t leave me here,” I pleaded.

  “Oh no? Watch.” Marius pulled back his fist and punched through the glass.

  The creature began to beat against the bedroom door. Hinges rattling and wood trembling, I got the impression it used its whole body as a battering ram.

  Think, Cat!

  While I continued to shove at the dresser, Marius knocked loose teeth of glass out of the window and started to maneuver his body into the hole. The door shook with another cacophonous impact. I jerked in shock and tried to jimmy the dresser out of its rut in the carpet.

  “We had a deal!” I called to Marius.

  He stopped, one leg dangling out into the Vegas night. His eyes swam out of focus as he thought about it.

  “I can’t go on a date with you if I’m dead,” I pointed out.

  “Bugger all,” he hissed.

  Marius pulled his leg back in the room. As he took the few strides to my side, he muttered darkly to himself. “Of all the damnable agreements I could make. Supposed to be a simple night at Caesars and now I find myself—”

  “Just shut up, and help me get this in front of the goddamn door,” I snapped.

  And then, with a noise like a gunshot, the door burst open and Jaws reached in with clawed hands. No. Not claws. Teeth. Serrated teeth jutted out of its fingers where its nails should have been.

  “What the shit is that?” I called, my voice pitched high.

  I snatched up the nearest weapon I could find: a defunct laptop. I hauled off and swung the computer at the thing’s deformed arm. There was no satisfying crunch of bone. I’d hardly met any hard resistance at all. The creature’s arm had a bulk to it, sure, but it was like a slab of thick meat. Or cartilage.

  “That’s messed up,” I said to Marius.

  The shark’s head thrashed back and forth as it pushed through the few things I’d used to make my ineffective barrier. I swatted at it again, using the computer as both shield and bludgeon. At my side, Marius stretched out his hands, palms up and fingers splayed. He began chanting. I have no idea what language it was. Possibly Greek. Maybe Latin. Or maybe he just made it all up.

  “What are you going to do, seduce it to death?”

  Then the air around Jaws rippled as magic congealed. Whatever he said, I could see the effects of the satyr’s spell. The earth beneath me trembled, and the carpet split apart. Vines sprang up from the soil and twined their way around the shark’s ankles.

  Shocked and awestruck, I whipped my head to look at Marius. His face contorted with strain, his eyes taking on a verdant glow. His glamour began to fail, and I could see his horns—real and whole—sticking out of his forehead. Wisps of black hair had come free of his ponytail.

  The vines, thick and ropy, coiled up to the shark’s knees. Slowly, they tugged at it, sucking it into the ground. The thing roared as it struggled. Gill slits in its chest flapped with a sickly, wet sound in perfect time of my racing pulse.

  Marius snarled something guttural, curling his right hand into a fist and yanking at the air. With a fierce snap, Jaws lurched forward. Marius drew a sword from the ether. Its long, curved blade gleamed like righteous fire. The sword sliced through the air so quickly I heard it whistle just before it sank into the hide of the shark. I let out an embarrassingly girly squeal and brought the laptop up to block out the gore. Squelching noises of cartilage bursting and muscle ripping replaced the soundtrack of the creature’s struggle. Instead of an alien roar, the shark hissed as it died.

  Shuddering, I dared to look up at the satyr. A layer of red stained his blade. Marius stared coldly. His eyes still glowed with ephemeral light. Marius—the pompous ass I’d known for years—wasn’t there anymore. A horned warrior stood in my room in his stead. A fine layer of sweat glistened over his flesh as he let out a heaving breath. This Marius was no fool or personal assistant. This Marius commanded respect.

  My muscles quivered, and my stomach and chest tightened at the primal power radiating from him. For a split-second I even considered that a date with him might not be such a bad idea after all.

  “Wow,” I said, reeling my jaw up off the floor.

  As his eyes returned to their normal leafy green, some of the ruddy gaiety flooded back into his flesh. His horns faded away, too.

  Marius’s voice was even, as if he did this every day. “See something you like, Catherine?”

  Despite myself, I smiled. “Maybe.”

  Then I made the mistake of looking down. The shark’s corpse oozed blood onto my carpet. Its black eyes rolled back, exposing milky white and the crimson of burst capillaries. Using the creature’s body, Marius wiped his blade clean then sheathed it into thin air. With a convulsive jerk, I dropped the laptop, ran to my bathroom, and promptly threw up.

  “Oh, yes,” Marius said, “you’re a marvelous date.”

  Shaking with adrenaline, I wiped up my face, and sluiced off the make-up. After brushing my teeth, I combed my hair then put it up in a knot on top of my head. I was as put-together as I would get, all things considered.

  Back in my bedroom, Marius stood over the corpse. I willed myself not to look, but every couple of seconds my eyes would dart to the creature with a sick fascination and curiosity.

  “So,” I said staring at Marius like my sanity depended on it. “You ruined my carpet with that trick of yours. What the hell was that?”

  Marius hunched over the shark—and I found something else in the room to look at. I presume he was searching the corpse, but I couldn’t stand to watch.

  “A bit of earth magic,” he said quietly.

  “Is that a satyr thing or just something you picked up along the way?”

  “Most of us have a connection to elemental magics. Earth, wind, water,” he answered. “Not all of my kind make use of those gifts or strengthen them.”

  “Look at you. A jackass of all trades. Who’d a thunk?”

  “Being a Renaissance man has served me well. And if I’m not mistaken, it just saved your life.”

  “Yeah, yeah. What is this thing anyway?”

  “I’m not sure,” Marius mused. “Someone might have conjured a golem. There are some demons that can take forms similar to this, but I don’t think our friend here is from the Pit.”

  “Why is it here?”

  “Remember what I said about being a target for someone wanting to take a bite out of Eris?”

  I slumped. “I thought they’d just try to mess with me, not try to fucking kill me!”

  “Gods are funny like that.”

  “Well, they ca
n go fu—”

  From the next room, a watery screech pierced the air. I peeked into my living room to see another shark taking ungainly steps over the rubble its predecessor had made.

  “It has a friend!” I shouted.

  “Right. Back to my plan, then.”

  Without further ado, Marius and I climbed out of my bedroom window and ran for his car. I may have short legs, but I’m fast. I darted around the building, behind Mrs. McIntyre’s apartment, and cut to the left. Another twenty yards or so and we’d be climbing into Marius’s silver Mercedes.

  “Oh, shit,” I hissed breathlessly.

  Two sharks and three porcine creatures flanked the Mercedes, eyes shining with malice. The pig-men, like the sharks, resembled animals wearing human costumes. Their noses squashed against their faces, and the pigs’ pink skin—bristling with wiry hairs—glistened like fresh sunburn. Two tusk-like teeth curled up from each creature’s lower jaws. With hungry snorts, the pigs charged forward.

  I ducked beneath a pair of, well, I suppose they were hands. Not five fingers but two thick digits and a thumb. These strange things flailed at me, swiping at my shoulders.

  Glancing around for Marius, I saw that once more he brandished a sword. With a flourish, he cut sidelong into one of the pigs and whirled to face off with another shark. Just then, a slab of pork hit me in the chest. I fell to the ground, the gravel slicing the soles of my bare feet.

  The hog that hit me hadn’t intended to. A few feet away from me, it lay on the ground, holding one cloven-hand to its head. Blood flowed into its eyes from a gash on its forehead.

  I turned around to see who else could have joined the fight. No magic ally appeared. On the ground, though, I saw a hammer.

  “Yes!” I breathed. Crawling across the ground, I grabbed my new weapon and held it so I could sweep the prongs at whatever came toward me next.

  “Catherine!” Marius called. “I said I’d help you, not die for you.”

  He’d killed one more of the creatures, and another mutant lay on the ground, cradling the stump of its arm. The pig near me was too concerned with his seeping head for the moment, but three other creatures engaged Marius. Crowding around him, they backed him up against a parked SUV. Soon, he would have little room to maneuver and the three assailants would pounce, ripping the satyr apart.

  I pushed to my feet and took a running jump at the nearest monster. Flying down, I drove the hammer into the thing’s shoulder. Hot, salty blood splashed on my face, clothes, and hands. With the hammer still deep in its flesh, the shark spun to swat at me. As I still held the tool, the force of the creature’s movement dragged me along the gravel. My feet screamed with the fresh abrasions, and my shoulders jerked. When I had better leverage, I yanked my weapon out of the shark’s body and prepared another swing.

  The shark swiped at me with those abominable hands. The teeth-claws whistled as they cut through the air. I sucked in my stomach just enough to avoid being torn open. Bringing the hammer down in a feeble arc, I tried to parry the thing’s strike. The shark responded with by backhanding me across the face.

  Trembling with anger and terror, I rocked back from the blow.

  “Oh, hell no,” I said.

  As the shark charged me for another strike, I lashed out with the prongs of the hammer, advanced, then kicked it where a man would have very tender bits. The shark, it turns out, didn’t have those parts, but my kick had enough force behind it to send the thing staggering back. Right into one of the pigs sparring with Marius.

  The shark turned to see what new threat might be lurking behind, and I used the distraction to land a mortal blow. I raised the hammer with both hands and lunged forward. The prongs landed in the beast’s skull with a sickening crunch. I rode the shark to the ground as it crumpled.

  At this point, the world began to jerk and skip like an old film projector. Sounds modulated and images flickered past in a formless haze. I remember the horrifying, wet slapping as I tried to get the hammer out of the shark’s body, its flesh ripping in chunks. Fresh gore spurting onto me. The snicker-snack of Marius’s sword slicing, followed quickly by a squeal of agony. The fetid scent of rotten seaweed and copper. An arm on the ground.

  I crouched next to the car as two injured Bacon Brothers scrambled toward the Mercedes, dazed and howling in pain. Marius yelled for me again.

  “Get in the car!”

  I fumbled with the latch and hopped into the passenger seat. Before I could even shut the door, the satyr revved the engine, backed out of the space, and peeled away into the night.

  We’d driven for a minute or two without further attack when I realized I was repeating the words, “Oh my God.” My whole body trembled. Try as I might, I couldn’t make it stop.

  “Where are we going?” Marius asked.

  If the quaking in my limbs didn’t quit, I might shake myself to pieces. Couldn’t he see that? I tried to form words, but I’d had enough. I guess some would call it shock. All I know is that my systems were shutting down. I’d reached my breaking point and needed to reboot.

  “Eris,” I said. “Find her.”

  “Without the chips?”

  “Fuck the chips! Things are trying to kill me!”

  He didn’t argue. While he pulled out his phone and started dialing, I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. Teeth flashed there in bloody jaws. No, I thought, snapping my eyes open. I don’t want to see that. My head rolled to the side and I stared out the window. The reflections of Marius and me superimposed over the shops and buildings we passed. It gave everything the quality of a dream: nothing was real, just wraiths floating past in a moment.

  “That’s strange,” Marius said. “She’s not answering.”

  His reflection hit redial and waited.

  I tried not to think of my dirty clothes, soggy from some freakish creature’s blood.

  “The hell?” he said. “Says her number has been disconnected.”

  As the world sped by, I went numb. I’d processed all I would for the night.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  I made a noncommittal sound, but otherwise remained motionless.

  “Catherine, until I can get Eris on the line, you need to think of someplace we can go.”

  “Why me?” I asked. I may have been responding to him, or I may have been asking someone else for a grander answer.

  Maybe I should’ve taken Marius’s earlier advice and hidden from this bullshit. How often had I wished that I could just run away from Eris and this weird other life where gods and satyrs and Fae existed? Often enough.

  I sighed. I gave Marius a set of cross streets.

  In the window, I saw his face wrinkle. “There’s nothing there,” he said. “Just a derelict warehouse and some abandoned buildings where kids go to drop ecstasy and get arrested.”

  “Trust me,” I said.

  He went silent and I settled into the rhythm of the car. The soft, steady hum of the tires gliding over the asphalt, the light tick tick of the turn signal. The Mercedes spun a subtle symphony, and the perfect cadence of engine and forward motion lulled me into a gentle, black sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  “Factory of Faith”

  I woke up as Marius cut the engine. My lips were dry, and a

  headache percolated behind my bleary eyes. Bringing my vision back into focus, I took a peek around. We were in a shitty part of town far northeast of the Strip. Tourists didn’t come out this way unless they were fans of a particular crime drama. They’d filmed an episode or two out here. Good atmosphere in a creepy-body-dumping sort of way.

  The place was mostly abandoned, just like Marius had said. A disintegrating furniture warehouse sat next to a rundown shopping center. Weeds grew through the crumbling sidewalks, and lizards shared meals with spiders. A few homeless kids squatted in one of the buildings, but mostly the area maintained the parched, desolate look of a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

  “Lovely vacation spot you’ve picked,”
Marius said. “Do you have a time share?”

  I got out of the car and padded carefully in the loose dirt, muscle memory kicking in and guiding me to the correct loading dock off the back of the warehouse. Marius followed, muttering his disapproval the whole time.

  “…and the dirt is going to make my car dustier than Eris’s tits.”

  As we reached the door, I turned to him. “Give me your coat.”

  “What is this, the high school prom? You can’t be cold. Why on earth do you need my coat?”

  Too tired to argue, my voice came out quiet. “I’m covered in shark-man blood, and I’d rather not advertise it to everyone here.”

  “Everyone? Who, the rocks?”

  Closing my eyes, I rubbed at my temples. “Marius, give me the goddamn coat.”

  “Fine,” he said. As he slid out of it, I took a good look at him. His shoes lacked their high shine, but other than that, Marius’s clothes showed no sign of our earlier troubles. No blood, no rips, no dust. He could’ve waltzed right back into the gala and no one would be any the wiser that less than an hour ago he sliced up a—

  Nausea wrenched at my guts as I thought of the creatures. I had to shove those memories away, push the bile back down.

  Keep moving forward, Cat, I said to myself.

  “How is it that I’m a mess and you look perfect?” I grumbled thickly.

  “You think I look perfect?” he asked with his lopsided grin. “Considering that mere hours ago I garnered a meager ‘all right’, I’m touched.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  As Marius passed me the jacket, he explained. “Glamours are all part of the service. Magic allows me to conceal my finer qualities for you simple-minded humans, but it also means I can make my clothes look fabulous. Far better than dry cleaning, if you ask me.”

  “Didn’t realize your glamour was that extensive. Thought it just took care of your horns and legs.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a man of many surprises.”

  I took his jacket and pulled it on, covering my gore-soaked pajamas. Then I turned my attention to the door. The slab of corrugated metal worked on an electric motor like a standard garage door. If I were a few inches taller, I might have been able to peek into the two grimy windows. Gangs and taggers had sprayed the place with graffiti for years. On this door, someone had painted, “YmFy.”