by Dante King
“Holy shit,” Carli whispered, even more shocked than I was. “Derek, do you know what you’re doing—”
Too late. The dealer had already begun setting out the next set of cards, laying them on top of my now-split hand. The first was an eight, which on top of the ace gave me a score of nineteen. Not bad at all, but still potentially beatable depending on what the dealer held.
The second, however, was blackjack. The King of Diamonds lay on top of the ace, giving me a perfect hand.
The dealer flipped over their own cards with a studied expression. A seven and the ace I’d already seen. Giving the dealer eighteen. Since the house had to stay on seventeen or higher, the dealer drew no other cards.
I’d won both hands.
“Fuck,” I whispered, both women reacting next to me like I’d just slapped their asses. “I just won seven thousand dollars!”
“Well done, chum!” The speaker was a blue-robed mage with a boyish smile, who’d slipped into the seat next to mine while I’d been busy with my hand. “Always a pleasure to watch a man who knows what he’s doing at the gambling table. Name’s Mortimer, by the way.”
He extended his hand to shake, and I took it. His fingers were clammy and cold—I distrusted this man instantly.
“Nice to meet you,” I lied. “I’m Derek Sinclair. Not many mages who’d be willing to share a table with a legendary shifter, Mortimer.”
“Their loss, then!” the man said, as if this had never occurred to him. From the half-smiles on the faces of the mages watching from afar, I could tell this was a prank of some kind. “We’ve heard things about you, Derek—but you know how the rumor mill is. Is it really true that you shift into a Dragon form when you activate your powers?”
To humor the man, I reached inside and stoked the flame in my heart. Red scales covered my hands and arms, my nails narrowing into black, knife-sharp claws. Mortimer swallowed hard as if he realized he’d underestimated me—then I went back to human form.
“You’re a Dragon, alright,” the mage said, sweat beading on his forehead. I could tell I’d shocked him. “Care to play a few rounds with a slightly less empty table?”
That sounded fine to me. While Soojin and Carli hunted down the waiter to get more champagne, I played through a half-dozen rounds of blackjack with Mortimer. This time, I was much more careful with my wagers, only pulling flashy stunts like splitting and doubling down if I was absolutely certain to win a hand.
Before long, I noticed a strange thing happening. I was losing hands—even hands that looked certain. And Mortimer was winning.
The smiles on the faces of the mages grew wider. They’re cheating, I realized, reaching out with my senses. They’re fucking hazing the only shifter with the balls to come over and gamble with them. Sons of bitches…
Now that I was looking for it, the touch of magery felt undeniable. The dealer had no idea what was going on, of that I felt certain. Yet every time they dealt another set of cards, an almost imperceptible current shot through the air, jerking cards from the bottom of the deck to the dealer’s eager finger.
Telekinesis, I thought, recognizing the spell. Well, two can play at that game…
I waited two more hands, biding my time for the right moment to strike. Both Mortimer and I won the next two rounds easily—the dealer busted both times, allowing me to build back a small amount of the chips I’d lost.
Now, it seemed, Mortimer was going in for the kill.
The mage stretched and sighed in a manner too theatrical to be anything but fake. “This is fun, but a little boring,” he confided in me, nudging me shoulder to shoulder. “How about we raise the stakes a little bit?”
My own stash of chips was looking a little light. Mortimer’s, on the other hand, was huge, and getting larger all the time.
Oh buddy, I thought with a grin. You have no fucking clue what you’ve just walked into.
“Sure,” I said. “Girls?”
Both Soojin and Carli stood behind me, sipping their drinks. Each looked at me blankly, not understanding what I wanted—until I gestured for them to give me their complimentary play cards. “You’ll get these back,” I whispered.
Mortimer wore the fox-like grin of someone who knows he’s hooked a gambling addict. “Well, shit!” the mage chuckled. “If you’re going to lay it all out there, I’ll do the same.”
I cashed out mine, Carli’s, and Soojin’s cards, adding the amount to my stack. The cashier did a double-take. This person dealt with high rollers, but this was something else.
“Sir,” the dealer said, frowning, “are you certain you wish to wager this much on one hand?”
“Of course I do,” I said genially. I let the dealer deal, all while feeling Mortimer’s grubby little magical fingers all over the deck.
The initial pull was exactly what I’d feared. Mortimer held two aces, the exact same hand I’d made such hay out of the first time I sat down at the table. I, on the other hand, had one of the worst starting hands in blackjack—a twelve. Low enough that the dealer would probably beat me without another card, but if I drew any of those face cards—the King, the Queen, the Jack—I’d go over 21 and lose that way.
“Ooh, rough luck,” Mortimer said, his overly chummy humor beginning to grate. The mage pulled out a second black card from his pocket. “I’d like to split these, and double my bet. See, you’re not the only one who can bet big, Derek. Got a spare card of my own!”
Yeah, for now, I thought, nodding right back. Here we go…
I could feel the dealer moving. They were going to hand Mortimer’s two hands and my one each a face card—a King, a Queen, and a Jack. For Mortimer, that would give him two blackjacks—for me, I’d instantly lose every dollar I’d won at Celesta.
Instead, at the last possible second, I sent a thrum of telekinetic energy into the table.
The deck shook beneath the dealer’s fingers, spilling cards out along the board. One of the cards intended for Mortimer flipped over, showing the Queen of Spades. Mortimer was fuming.
“What, you choose now to get butter fingers!?” the mage snapped, glaring at the dealer. “When we’ve both bet everything we’ve got on this one hand!?”
“My apologies, sirs,” the dealer said blandly. He picked up the deck and fed it into an automated shuffling machine—shifting the cards around too fast for even Mortimer’s powers to affect the outcome. “I will shuffle, then redeal the entire hand.”
“No,” Mortimer said, leaning over the table. “I’ve got two aces. He’s got a shit hand. You deal those.”
For a moment, the dealer’s face went slack—then whatever enchantment the mages had on the employees took hold. “Yes, sir,” the dealer said blandly, picking up the deck. “We’ll finish the hand—”
And I’ll finish you, I thought, the corner of my mouth curling in a smirk.
I didn’t bother trying to counter Mortimer’s stupid telekinesis trick. He had years of experience over me of being a mage, so trying to outdo his spell with my own would be like trying to arm wrestle the Hulk. Which was why I hadn’t even tried.
Instead, I’d distracted him. What Mortimer failed to realize was, not all the cards the dealer spilled had gone back into the shuffler.
As the two face cards hit Mortimer’s aces, sealing his victory—and my defeat—the gloating mage finally let the mask of congeniality drop. He reared back like a shark, giggling as he bested the shifter who’d dared to come play with the mages. My embarrassment was total; I could feel the mages who’d gathered around whispering to each other and laughing.
Mortimer threw his hands in the air like a marathon runner crossing the finish line.
Only for a handful of playing cards to come tumbling out of his sleeves.
“Hey!” I yelled, jumping back from the table. “Cheater! You’ve got a cheater over here!”
Mortimer stared at the cards like live vipers had just landed on the table. His face went slack, then a horrible kind of realization dawned on his features. �
�You,” he growled, his bottom lip trembling with rage.
“Morty, how could you!?” Now it was my turn to act chummy—to paint the atmosphere with false camaraderie. “Stuffing cards up your sleeves to cheat at poker? That’s the exact opposite of what the Council of Wand & Claw is supposed to be about! We’re fostering unity here, not trying to start fights!”
“We all saw it!” Carli chimed in, her face daring any mage present to disagree. “This man is cheating!”
No one could deny it. After all, nearly every set of eyes in the casino had been on us while we’d been betting. And if none of those eyes had been on me while I used telekinesis to snatch a couple cards from the dealer’s spill and slip them into Mortimer’s sleeves while the shuffling machine ran—well, that was on them.
You’re supposed to pay attention when you’re gambling. Not let yourself get distracted.
Two of the heavyset guards appeared at the table so quickly I wondered if they’d teleported. “My deepest apologies, Mr. Sinclair,” the heavy said, giving me a swift bow. “This mage will be removed from the premises immediately. The Celesta has a zero-tolerance policy for cheating.”
“I didn’t do anything!” Mortimer growled. “Get your hands off me!”
“We’ll restore the winnings you had when you arrived at the table,” the man said smoothly, running my three black cards through a device. “Plus a little extra, for your trouble. Enjoy the games.”
“I will,” I said, handing Soojin and Carli back their cards. “Thanks for the loan, girls. I appreciate it.”
“Any time,” Soojin murmured, watching the guards drag a screaming Mortimer from the casino. The mages who’d conspired to haze me looked suitably embarrassed now—and as I watched, more than a few began to wander over to the shifter side of the tables.
The groups had finally begun to mingle, and all it took was for an inter-supernatural incident to almost break out.
“I’ll be right back,” I told my girls, giving each a peck on the cheek. “Gotta hit the little boy’s. Have fun for me, alright?”
All the drinks had left me in serious need of a bathroom.
“One thing,” I said. “Does being a mage run in the family?”
“Not typically, no,” Soojin said. “You just got lucky.”
“Nice,” I said, banking the thought for later. “I’ll be back soon.”
As I made my way from the floor, triumph flaring in my veins, I realized I’d learned something very important.
My shifter powers were well-known to everyone at the Council—but they didn’t know I was a mage, as well. As long as I could keep that under wraps, I’d have a leg up on the rest of the competition.
Chapter 18
Considering how nice the rest of the Celesta was, I suppose I shouldn’t have expected the bathrooms to be any different. In here, the art deco features had spilled a little bit into the gaudy, but at least there wasn’t a towel guy or some other similarly humiliating servant waiting to let me in and out. Just a few stalls and a sink, exactly what I needed.
I hummed to myself as I did my business, feeling good. I’d beaten back an attempt to make me look stupid while also learning that I could use my wits to outsmart an opponent even when they outranked me in power.
Plus, after that stunt with the three cards, I was pretty damn sure Soojin and Carli were impressed as hell. The extra money, the suave way I’d tricked everybody—oh yeah. I was definitely taking both of them home tonight.
The sink had one of those silly over the counter basins that were all the rage with rich people—this one, for some reason, was in the shape of a five-pointed star. I heard a door slam as I scrubbed and glanced up, but there was nobody in the reflection of the mirror over the sink.
Huh, I thought. That’s weird. Someone must have changed their mind about how bad they needed to go—
“Big night tonight,” a voice said right next to my ear.
I jumped—I couldn’t help it. My fingers might have started to elongate into dragon’s claws before I could stop myself.
“Fuck!” I roared, snapping to attention. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”
How had I not noticed this guy come in? Especially when he looked so… well, so noticeable. He’d apparently taken the dress code’s old school flair to an almost absurd extreme, dressing up in a tuxedo and wing-tips that looked like something the attendees might have worn for a Beethoven symphony. His was the only face I’d seen since coming to the Celesta with glasses—a thick, coke-bottle pair that seemed at odds with the rest of his debonair appearance.
“My apologies,” the man said with a smile.
His lips were so red I wavered back and forth for a while on whether or not he was wearing lipstick. What he did have, however, were some big-ass teeth. The kind the kids at my school would have made fun of back in the day for being ‘bucktoothed’, though mostly around the canines.
“No worries,” I finally said, leaning back down to the sink. “I suppose you saw that performance back at the blackjack table?”
“A most admirable one,” the man agreed with a nod. There was nothing overly threatening about the man, but something about him made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. “The first of several tonight, I would wager.”
He talks funny, I realized. The way guys used to talk on the radio in WWII documentaries—that cultured kind of Tom Lehrer accent. Who the hell is this guy?
He answered the question for me. “I’m Richard Enfield,” the man said, making no motion to wash his hands or otherwise appear like he had a reason for being there. “You do not need to tell me your name—I know it well. You’re Derek Sinclair, Raya Sinclair’s son. Here to accept her apology from the Crescent Clan in absentia.”
“That’s right,” I said, pulling a paper towel from the dispenser and drying off my hands. Strange that such a fancy bathroom didn’t have those automatic dryers. “Look, I’m not trying to be rude, buddy, but what’s your deal? What kind of shifter are you?”
The man’s lips peeled back, revealing an even expanse of sharp, white teeth. “No shifter.”
I nodded, though this was beginning to seriously creep me out. “A mage, then.” Did this guy want a fight? Had he figured out that I’d tricked his cheating buddy, and wanted to try and give me a beatdown for it?
But Richard Enfield just shook his head again. “Of a sort,” he admitted with a shrug. “But not the sort of which you are thinking.”
Okay. I’d had just about enough of this.
“It was nice to meet you, Richard, but I’ve got a couple of hot dates waiting for me back on the casino floor. If you wouldn’t mind…”
“No trouble at all,” the strange man said with a nod of his head. “I merely wished to meet you before the big event, Mr. Sinclair. We have a lot riding on this Council of Wand & Claw, and as any theater director knows, it’s important to touch base with every actor before the curtain rises on the most important scene.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, balling up the paper towel in anticipation of chucking it into a nearby trash can. “I’m just here to have fun…”
I trailed off. Richard Enfield’s smile widened from ear to ear, growing mischievous as I stared at him. For long moments, I couldn’t figure out why the sight of him standing there before the sink sent such a spike of primal terror through me.
Then, like one of those Magic Eye paintings you had to cross your vision in front of in order to see, the picture snapped into focus. Richard lounged next to the sink, his elbows gently resting upon it. In the reflection of the mirror, I stood a few feet away, pointing at him with a shocked expression.
Richard had no reflection.
“Wait a second,” I growled, taking a step toward the mirror. I feared some kind of trick, a magical hoax of the kind Mortimer had just tried to throw on me. “You don’t have a reflection! You’re some kind of vamp—”
He was only out of my field of view for an instant. But apparently, for Rich
ard Enfield, an instant was enough. When I turned my head, the man had vanished, as if he’d never been in the bathroom to begin with.
I stood there holding my balled-up paper towel, staring at the space where he’d just been standing. What the fuck?
“Shifters, mages… and now vampires,” I said, tossing the towel away. “I wonder why Carli or Soojin never mentioned those?”
I’d just made the decision to ask them about it the next time I saw them when a tiny speaker in the ceiling crackled to life. The sound of a chiming bell filled the bathroom, and from the reverberations on the other side of the wall, I could tell a much louder version was currently playing on the casino floor, as well.
By the time I got out of the bathroom, the temporary alliance between mages and shifters had ended. Each stuck to their own groups, gathering in great clumps on either end of the room as they waited for more instructions. A strange sense of disappointment filled me at the sight; hadn’t my attempt to bridge the gap been worth more than this?
Soojin and Carli waited near the bathroom, each wearing expressions that were worried and excited all at once. Carli swayed gently on her feet as she crossed the floor—she’d clearly had a little too much to drink. Soojin did her best to support her without making it look like she was holding the shifter upright.
“What’s going on?” I asked, glancing around the casino floor for any sign of trouble. “Is that some kind of alarm?”
Soojin shook her head. “Play time’s over,” the dark-haired beauty murmured, sliding an arm around Carli’s waist to keep her balanced. “The Council of Wand & Claw is moving into its next phase. There should be an announcement over the speakers any minute now…”
As if summoned by Soojin’s words, the final reverberation of the bell faded away to silence. A smooth female voice came over the line as a hush fell across the casino floor.
“Thank you so much for enjoying the gaming and refreshments,” the voice purred. It sounded both familiar and alien, like the speaker had learned English as a second language and only vaguely comprehended the way pronunciation worked. “Portals will be opening momentarily toward the entrance of the convention center. All attendees to the Council of Wand & Claw are requested to enter and take their seats. Please remember: no weapons will be permitted within the Council chambers. We similarly ask that you leave all food and drink in the Celesta casino…”