Nikki and I both jerked straight. “Wait, what?” I asked. “What do you mean, its sword? Why wouldn’t you return as head of the Council?”
A gong sounded deep in the heart of Prime Luxe.
“Ummm…what the hell was that?” Brody asked warily.
The Magician smiled. “It appears we have been summoned to a meeting. The first meeting of the Council in eight hundred years that I did not call.”
“Well, there better fucking be doughnuts,” Brody muttered, slumping back in his chair.
7
Without any of us moving, everything spun, the room shifted around us in a dizzying whirl. A moment later, we no longer sat in the Magician’s sprawling library but were assembled in one of the conference rooms of the imposing fortress, a chamber I’d been to countless times before…yet never quite like this.
Whereas Armaeus tended to prefer a typical business setting with a black central conference table, plain chairs, and lots of computer equipment, the new guard of the Arcana Council had slightly more esoteric tastes. The conference table was bright white and surrounded by white egg chairs with cushions in every color of the rainbow. More jarringly, the room was painted in a wild, undulating pattern of reds and purples and yellows, not unlike the lava lamp effect of Aleksander Kreios’s residence. In addition, the Devil wasn’t only in the details, he was standing at the front of the room.
As always, he was breathtaking.
Aleksander Kreios had ascended to the Council in the early 1930s, when the world was caught between two global wars. A native of what was then Constantinople and what was now Istanbul, he still rocked a beach-bum Mediterranean vibe that was only enhanced by his long, tawny-gold hair, his glittering green eyes, and his usual attire of a loose linen shirt, frayed khakis, and beach sandals. That look had been upgraded with the recent improvement in his position, however. His sharply cut gray suit, with a jacket unbuttoned to reveal a deep green shirt that matched the color of his eyes, made for impressive eye candy.
“Absolute power rings my chimes absolutely,” Nikki put in, and Kreios spared her a teasing smile before turning to me.
“My dear Sara Wilde,” he said warmly. “Brody Rooks, Nikki Dawes, how good and how important of you all to come.”
“I don’t think I really need to be here,” countered Brody immediately. “Pretty sure I can get the meeting notes later. I’ve got things to do.”
A new voice sounded almost before its owner appeared in the room, hard, autocratic, almost cruel. I hadn’t heard this voice in a while by careful design, and I wasn’t happy to be hearing it now.
“You’re wrong. You’ll stay.” The Emperor of the Arcana Council, Viktor Dal, entered next. He was the kind of man whose presence you immediately noticed, at least after he finished fully materializing into view, but which you also immediately shied away from, out of self preservation.
He strode forward from one of the doorways of the Devil’s conference room in his usual austere uniform of a well-tailored and sharply cut suit that still managed to seem dated, polished shoes, and platinum accents. His shoes were black, his shirt a steel gray, and his eyes were as cold and pale as a winter sky. His hair was blonde and close cropped. With his high Aryan cheekbones and chiseled jaw, he should’ve been attractive, probably was attractive to a certain type of person, but that person had to have a deep and abiding interest in self-harm to actually draw close to the Emperor.
I’d known Viktor Dal as long as Brody had, and neither of us had any affection for him.
“Is that right?” Brody asked, turning on Dal. “Because last I checked, I wasn’t a part of your little Mouseketeer Club here. And I especially don’t give a shit what you think. That’s cute that the others here gave you a pass despite your despicable nature, kidnapping kids because it made you feel like a big, big man, but you and I have never gotten square on that, and I don’t think it’s about to happen now.”
I glanced at Brody with sharp surprise. When we’d worked together in Memphis, Viktor Dal, who I hadn’t realized at the time was psychic, had been posing as a counselor in the public school system. He’d even visited Farraday High, though I’d never been sent to him, thank God. While he was there, several children had gone missing and had stayed missing, and some of those abductions had been tied to Viktor—though not until years later. It had taken nearly a decade for Brody and I to bring the last of those kids back, and as far as I was concerned, the detective was right. There had yet to be a reckoning for the Emperor’s actions in that very bad deal back in Memphis. The Arcana Council hadn’t taken action against him because he hadn’t directly killed anyone, not that we could prove, anyway, but the harm he had done was deep and powerful nevertheless.
“So many questions,” Viktor sneered now at Brody. “So many questions you all have, and so much fear. But the time for fear is over. The time for action is here. You want your retribution, then you should remain and learn who your true enemies are.”
I didn’t think Brody had too many questions about that particular issue, but there was something in Viktor’s voice that pulled at me. As much as I despised him, the man had a point. We’d never pushed him to reveal his secrets. Maybe he had more to say than we thought.
Unbidden, the letter I’d received at Justice Hall poked at my brain. You aren’t worthy. You’ve never been worthy. Had I missed a psychic teenager in the back of the classroom when I’d been a student at Farraday High? Worse, had Viktor found her instead? Was that even possible?
“Sit, sit,” the Devil said, recalling my attention. “We await the High Priestess and the Fool.”
“That’s it?” I asked. The Arcana Council had grown quickly in the past several months, with old members returning to the fold, new members being added, and long-time active members dramatically increasing their engagement. In addition to the Magician, the High Priestess, the Emperor, the Devil, the Fool, and myself as Justice, the Council also included the Hermit, Death, the Hanged Man, the Lovers, Judgment, and the Hierophant...plus a past and possibly future Temperance currently trying to keep out of the fray. “Where’s everyone else?”
The Devil merely smiled. “There is no need for a full quorum of the Council for what we’re discussing today. This is more of a tactical measure. A special project, if you will.”
I curled my lip, forcing myself not to groan at the term. This group was getting more corporate all the time. Ordinarily, I would be the one sitting out the extra special meeting, but this was a singular group. The Magician, the Devil, the Emperor, the High Priestess, the Fool, and me? There was some serious firepower here.
What was going on?
As if summoned by my thoughts, Simon burst through the doors, his arms overflowing with laptop, devices, and paperwork. As usual, he wore an eighties vintage short-sleeved T-shirt over a long-sleeved T-shirt, worn jeans that hung loosely from his narrow hips, and beat-up Chucks. His wild mop of hair was trapped beneath a Halloween-orange skullcap with an actual skull on it, and a grin lit up his pale face. His eyes were a light azure that echoed the faint blue cast of his skin—less a supernatural effect than the result of being hunched over computers all day long. He managed to reach the gleaming white table before everything tumbled free and dropped his haul to the surface with a clatter.