Wilde Card: Immortal Vegas, Book 2 (7 page)

For the first time in days, something approaching happiness swelled inside me. “Max! Yes. Do you like him? Do you think he has promise?”

“I think he has great promise.” Jerome chuckled. “As to do I like him, it is difficult to say—he speaks almost nonstop. He has taken a job as a taxi driver in Paris to burn off his energy, he says. He seems very nervous about the prospect of having his abilities tested.”

“He’ll get over it.” I said the words lightly, but I wasn’t so sure. I’d encountered Max in Rome. He’d been the hired driver of my limo from the airport on my most recent assignment for the Council. That limo had been commissioned by Armaeus…whose last name, not coincidentally, was also Bertrand. I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea that Armaeus had a family of any kind, let alone one that had spawned new generations with Connected abilities. “Start him out with something easy, and go slow. He will come to his abilities in a rush, I suspect, but his mind may take some convincing.”

Jerome chuckled. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Oh, please. I’ve been throwing cards for a long time now. I know I’m good at it.”

The moment stretched between us, heavy with unsaid words.

“Jerome?” The old priest was a master at drawing out the abilities of the Connected children he safeguarded, nurturing and protecting those skills by equal turns. But I’d come to him already formed, so to speak. There was nothing new to discover.

My third eye began blinking rapidly. I swatted at it.

“Your gifts
are
a blessing,” Jerome finally said, as if he’d never paused. “I feel Max’s will be too. He’s eager to help with the children, to ensure their safety. But more of them arrive every day, Sara. It isn’t merely the refugees from the war that everyone can see that swell our cities and strike fear into our citizenry. It is the refugees from a war that no one knows is being waged.”

I nodded, though the old priest couldn’t see me. “You think you’ll be caught out?”

“Perhaps. We’re preparing to move. I’ll take a sabbatical from Saint-Germaine-des-Prés, and my absence from the city will help to reduce the attention.”

“A sabbatical? You can do that?”

“I’m expected to take one every five years.” Jerome’s laugh was wry. “The last I took one was in nineteen eighty-two, however, so I am a bit overdue. I’ll have to leave my belongings here, of course. I can’t have it appear that I’m doing anything but going on a short holiday.” He paused. “I pray a short trip is all it is.”

“And you’ll take your phone.”

“Of course. It’s the property of the church.”

“I don’t like it, Jerome. Where will you go?”

“Be at peace. Max will travel with me. As to where we are going, I am worried about this latest influx of children. Each new set is more terrorized, less able to communicate. Something is affecting them beyond my understanding. They are all passing through Poland, so that’s where we will start.”

“You and Max.”

“I’ve traveled before, Sara. I’m not some feeble old man.”

“No, no, you’re not the one I’m worried about.” A total lie, but Jerome let it pass. “Be careful, okay?” I glanced outside again. Dixie and Brody had moved into the lee of the building, in search of shade. Which put them out of sight.

My cue to ditch the car. Finally.

“I will, Sara,” Jerome said into my ear. “You’ll call within the next few days?”

“Sure, of course. Or soon, anyway.” I shut and stowed my laptop in my bag then fumbled for money, handing it forward to the cabbie, who grinned at me as if he knew I’d been avoiding Dixie and Brody. Well, he wasn’t wrong. Jerome and I said our good-byes, and I hauled myself out of the car.

It was hotter than the surface of the sun outside. Squinting to make sure the Wonder Twins weren’t in sight, I stabbed the phone into my pocket—missed, tried again. The second time it made it, but something scraped against my fingers. As I pulled my hand out, a business card fluttered to the asphalt. I reached down and picked it up, barely avoiding the departing cab.

Grimm’s Antiques
, it read in finely scrolled text. A small address in block lettering was beneath it.

Grimm’s Antiques?
That hadn’t been on Armaeus’s thumb drive.

Still, I hadn’t been working with the Council this long not to recognize its games. If the Magician wanted me to go to Grimm’s, I’d go to Grimm’s.

Pocketing the card, I pushed into the foyer of the Chapel of Everlasting Love in the Stars. No one was there to greet me, but I figured out why quickly enough.

“Up on your toes, sweet cakes.” The sharp bark of Nikki Dawes’s voice rang out from the main wedding suite. “Stilettos aren’t for sissies, and this is the biggest day of your life. Unless you’re planning to dump the guy after Christmas, in which case you’ll definitely need those pumps again. So up on your toes.”

I entered the chapel and slid into a back pew, embracing the cool darkness.

At the front of the room, Nikki was holding court with three brides-to-be. Despite the drive-thru nature of this chapel, plenty of brides came through these doors without being under the influence of anything more than an excess of optimism. Nikki helped out at the chapel whenever Dixie had an astrology reading or a wedding planning session or, say, an impromptu meeting with a local detective.

As in all things, Nikki took her role of bridal guide seriously.

Today she’d paired her severe high-heeled black patent-leather boots with a tan minidress, red neck scarf, and black beret, the very picture of a retro Hollywood director. She’d found a bullhorn somewhere, and it sat mercifully silent by her canvas-backed high folding chair. The girls, who I guessed were the brides, given their pink tiaras that sprouted glitter-dusted tulle, watched Nikki with rapt attention. Nikki, for her part, sauntered up the center aisle with definite swagger, demonstrating how to properly work a set of platform bridal stilettos with enough hip swing to knock the moon out of its orbit.

“That’s right, hon, own the floor. Nothing’s hotter than confidence in a corset.” She turned to a second bride, and I hunkered down in my pew, glad enough for a few minutes more of rest.

The pew creaked, and Nikki glanced back with sharp focus, then waved at me with a wide smile. “Great timing, doll. We’re finishing up.” A few minutes later she ushered the brides on their way, then she strode back to me, her beret jaunty on her head.

“You looking for me or Dixie? Because Dix—“

“Is talking to Brody, I know.”

She leaned on the pew railing and eyeballed me, her painstakingly feathered brows arched high on her forehead. “I told you he wasn’t interested in her.”

“It’s fine.” Something was definitely wrong with my throat. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t ever try that line in public, okay, sugar? Because you seriously suck at it.” Nikki tilted her head. “And unless you want Dixie to know you and Brody were a thing—”

“We weren’t a ‘thing.’ He was ten years older than me, and I had a crush on him. That’s not a ‘thing.’ I was a stupid kid.”

“Uh-huh. Well, unless you want Dixie to know that you’re still a stupid kid, time to turn that frown upside down.” She grinned. “Welcome back to Vegas, by the way. What brings you down to the chapel?”

“Information.” I blew out a breath. “I need to know what the Connecteds are talking about, if there’s any chatter.”

“There’s always chatter.” She shrugged. “Nothing specific that I know of, though. You want to get Dixie?”

I winced. That’s why I’d come here, but now that the moment was upon me, I didn’t really feel like interrupting the flashy, big-eyed astrologer, not if she was on the make for one of Las Vegas’s finest. I thought of the business card in my pocket.
Grimm’s Antiques.
“There are some other angles we could run down, first, I guess,” I said, happy for the reprieve. “You have the Council’s car in the lot?”

Nikki’s grin widened. “I got something better. C’mon.”

Chapter Six

We exited the chapel onto the driveway beneath an enormous archway festooned with giant plaster roses. On either side of the exit to the street sat large topiaries carved into the shape of champagne flutes. Between them sat a whale of a white limo. On its side was emblazoned a pink-and-white banner proclaiming The Chapel of Everlasting Love in the Stars.

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“Dix likes me to tool around in this every so often to remind new visitors in town that if love is on their mind, we’ve got the chapel for them. There are giveaway cards offering a sample horoscope reading too. You should try one. They’re fun.” She waved her keys, and the doors popped their locks. I reluctantly got inside.

“This isn’t exactly incognito.”

“We going to take down a mob boss today?”

“Well, no.”

“Then relax. In Vegas, driving around in a gaudy limo is pretty much going undercover. It’s part of the scenery. Buckle in, or the damned thing will start playing the Wedding March. Ain’t nobody in this car wants to hear that.” She eased the car off the driveway and slipped into traffic. “Where are we headed?”

I thought about the notes I’d jotted down at the hotel, after plundering the Magician’s thumb drive. Then I thought about the business card I’d found in my pocket. When in doubt, always pick go with the crazy first.

“You familiar with Grimm’s Antiques?”

She tilted her head. “Off Flamingo? Sure. Haven’t been in there in years, though. Why?”

“I need to talk to someone in Vegas who’s known for collecting artifacts—not the big and obvious ones, but more your back-alley art gallery kind of thing. The sort of place that seems legit but really is barely more than a pawn shop. Someone who might maybe be into the arcane black market too.”

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Grimm’s is run by an old guy, or it was. Like I said, it’s been years. He might be dead. Or they might have stuffed him and put him on display too.”

“How long has he been working there?” I had my phone out, fingers poised. Anything to avoid the neat pile of marketing flyers that sat on the console between Nikki and me. I wasn’t going to be handing out cards like we were trolling for an escort service.

Nikki snorted. “Don’t even try finding him on the Internet. Grimm’s Antiques is about as wired as a ball of lint. I’d be shocked if he had a Yellow Pages ad, let alone a website. Better for us to just go.”

We idled at a light, and Nikki poked a red lacquered nail at the stack of flyers. “Earn your keep, dollface. Give out a few of those.” She leaned over, me focusing on a knot of college girls waiting for the light to change. “Hey, ladies!” Nikki elbowed me in the kidney, hard, and I grabbed a half-dozen brochures, shoving them through the window. “You keep us in mind if you find the man of your dreams tonight, ’kay?”

The girls laughed and leaned against each other, clearly delighted by our enormous white limo with its pink-trimmed seats. I passed out a fistful of flyers before the light mercifully changed.

“You seriously have to do this for Dixie?”

“I don’t have to do anything for anyone but myself, sweetheart. Those days are long gone. I do this because I get a kick out of it. And you never know when cupid’s arrow will strike next. Dixie’s a real believer in true love.”

“Her wedding chapel has a drive-thru option.”

“She’s also a believer in efficiency.”

We hit three more red lights before we turned off the main strip at Flamingo Road, and I scanned up past the real building to take in the soaring shadow casino of Scandal, which the Devil called home.

Nikki gave a low whistle. “That was one fine hunk of demigodliness, I have to agree,” she said, though I hadn’t said anything. “You see him since that night? He’s not been mingling among the rank and file.”

“They do that a lot? Mingle?” I angled in my seat to eye her as we motored up the street. Given the length of the limo, parking was going to be a bit of a challenge.

“Often enough. Their homes may not show up to un-Connecteds, but the Council isn’t invisible, if that’s what you mean. I’ve seen the High Priestess and Armaeus out, definitely. And the Fool. He favors the tech shows, mostly, but I’ll see him on the street. As to the Devil—hell, he may have made an appearance in the past week, but not that I recall, and believe me, I would have recalled.” She gave a small grunt of satisfaction. “Here we go. We’ll pull in here and lock down tight. No one will bother us.”

She parked in a space in front of a Vegas-themed gift shop and tugged the beret and scarf from her head. “Just another girl getting her shopping on.” She fluffed her hair in the mirror. I’d never once seen Nikki adjust her makeup in all the times we’d driven through Vegas. It was like she applied it with a death threat, and it stayed put until she told it to move.

We headed down the street, the storefronts remarkably nondescript for being this close to the Strip, but they were clean, well cared for. And there was some foot traffic, just not the typical Vegas tourist crowd. No frat boys or sorority specials, no middle-aged Midwesterners clutching plastic cups they hoped to fill with tokens. It felt almost like small-town America… In a small town whose main street hawked wigs and burlesque wear, anyway.

“Where has this been all my life?” Nikki sighed as we slowed in front of the wig shop. “I really have to get out more often.”

“Go ahead. Grimm’s is right there.” I gestured to a faded shop sign. “It might be better for me to tool around on my own at first.”

“True.” Nikki eyed me. “We really do need to work on your style, though. You can’t keep looking like a homeless person who raided a Hot Topic.”

I gave her a push. “Go. Come get me in ten minutes if I’m not already out of the store.”

Nikki opened the door of the wig shop amid a clanging peal of bells, and I moved up the sidewalk. I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror—lightweight hoodie, black tank, black tights, boots. Okay, so, clothes weren’t really my thing, but Hot Topic? Seriously?

I frowned, thinking about Dixie with her soft blonde curls and pink cowboy hat, her perfectly curved cupid’s lips smiling at Brody. Was she his type? Did he have a type?