Date: 2018-03-24 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Science Fiction
Description: It should have been the high life for Roger. Magic pen that makes nearly anything he writes come true, a small army of hot, capable women, and his best friend by his side in Las Vegas. What more could a guy ask for? Unfortunately, Roger has a problem. A pen user with a power unlike anything he’s seen before has set his sights on Las Vegas. The thing is, Roger kind of likes Las Vegas how it is, after all, most of his stuff is there. And what’s more, no one threatens his women or his city. Now, he’ll do anything to protect his people and his city, even if it means taking a trip to Monaco to infi
Publisher: DDCO Publishing, LLC
Rights: All rights reserved (#3499837906164544)

Company Ink

The Pen is Mightier Book 2

J. A. Cipriano

DDCO Publishing, LLC.

Copyright © 2018 by J. A. Cipriano

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Created with Vellum

Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Thank You for reading!

Author’s Note

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Also by J.A. Cipriano

The Pen is Mightier

The Pen is Mightier: Company Ink

The Pen is Mightier: To Vegas… with Love

Star Conqueror

Star Conqueror: Recompense

Super Human

United We Stand

King of the Gods

World of Ruul

Soulstone: Awakening

Soulstone: The Skeleton King

Soulstone: Oblivion

Bug Wars

Doomed Infinity Marine

Doomed Infinity Marine 2

The Legendary Builder

The Builder’s Sword

The Builder’s Greed

The Builder’s Pride

The Builder’s Wrath

The Builder’s Throne

The Builder’s Conquest

The FBI Dragon Chronicles

A Ritual of Fire

A Ritual of Death

Elements of Wrath Online

Ring of Promise

The Vale of Three Wolves

Crystalfire Keep

Kingdom of Heaven

The Skull Throne

Escape From Hell

The Thrice Cursed Mage

Cursed

Marked

Burned

Seized

Claimed

Hellbound

The Half-Demon Warlock

Pound of Flesh

Flesh and Blood

Blood and Treasure

The Lillim Callina Chronicles

Wardbreaker

Kill it with Magic

The Hatter is Mad

Fairy Tale

Pursuit

Hardboiled

Mind Games

Fatal Ties

Clans of Shadow

Heart of Gold

Feet of Clay

Fists of Iron

The Spellslinger Chronicles

Throne to the Wolves

Prince of Blood and Thunder

Found Magic

May Contain Magic

The Magic Within

Magic for Hire

Witching on a Starship

Maverick

Planet Breaker

1

I took a deep breath and concentrated as I tried to disentangle myself from a bed full of six naked women while also not waking any of them. Only as I rose from the massive bed to head to the shower, I heard Amy moan and saw her eyes starting to flutter. I froze, mid-step, one foot on the cool tile of my room and the other still trapped beneath the satin sheets.

She made a weird sort of cooing moan before smacking her lips together. She rolled over, away from where I’d been lying beneath her arm, and threw her arm over Maggie. Her movement caused her to draw the sheet down just enough that I got a spectacular view of Maggie’s well-endowed chest, and for half a second, I thought about waking them up, and well, you know.

I didn’t, but that was only because I was in desperate need of a shower after six hours of sex. Now free of the bed and satisfied none of them would awaken, I made my way across the large room and headed toward the door.

We were in the Las Vegas lair below the Medallion casino, but that was only because we hadn’t figured out where we wanted to go yet. After all, the choices were everywhere and anywhere, and while I was partial to my friend Marty’s idea of “under the sea,” something about that felt a bit dangerous. I mean, what if the dome cracked because a mutant shark slammed into it or something?

I know that sounded improbable, but when you have a magic pen that can make virtually anything written with it come true, you start thinking that crazy shit is the norm. Like, I dunno, a massive orgy with six, immeasurably beautiful goddesses.

Taking one last look at the sea of women sprawled across my bed, I tried to fix the picture in my mind forever. I’d only had this place for a few days, but even still, I could get used to nights like the last one. ‘Cause damn.

Smiling to myself because I was the luckiest fuck in the world, I reached out and placed my hand on the scanner beside the door. The readout on the pad pulsed with soft blue light before turning green. The door soundlessly slid sideways into the wall, revealing Cami standing there in her lab coat.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite mad scientist,” I said as she stood there, dark eyes roaming over me. Then she chewed hungrily on her lip.

I immediately realized why.

I was naked as a fucking jaybird.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, swallowing hard and covering myself. “Guess I should have—”

“Shh.” She cut me off by pressing her finger to my lips. Leaning close to me, she peered at my bed full of women. “Don’t wake them.”

“Right.” I nodded, feeling a little silly, and stepped through the threshold. Part of me felt a little exposed since I was pretty sure Cami had never seen me naked, but I decided to own it. After all, I had the body of a Greek god.

“I wondered when you would be finished,” she said after the door behind me had slid shut. I turned to find her once again eye fucking me. “Part of me wanted to go in there and join you.” She looked down at herself suddenly embarrassed. “I decided against it.”

“Why?” I asked even though it was ridiculous because I was actually asking a smoking hot Asian chick why she didn’t want to join in a six-girl orgy with me. That probably should have been obvious.

“I feel inadequate.” She looked away. “It’s why I haven’t made more of an effort to fuck you, despite ...” She swallowed hard, and her cheeks flushed. “You don’t realize how loud Felicia is, do you?”

“I asked her to try to keep it down, but you know how it is.” I shrugged. Felicia had been my old guidance counselor at college and had wound up joining my little cadre when Wayne had attacked us with his magic pen.

We’d defeated him easily enough, but she’d stayed anyway, and while she liked riding me a lot, part of me wondered if her staying had a lot more to do with her getting to fuck ridiculously hot chicks. Hey, I didn’t judge, but yeah. Out of all of the girls who had joined me, she was definitely the most enthusiastic.

“Anyway,” Cami said, running a nervous hand through her short, spiky black hair. “I wanted to show you something.”

“Were you working all night again?” I said as I followed behind her. As I padded along, I realized my feet were cold, and as I glanced down at them, I remembered I was butt naked. “And I need to put some clothes on. And shower.” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at the closed door. “That’s why I got up.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Cami said, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Get dressed, that is. I love looking at you.” She did a little shiver of joy. “I mean, I know I can’t touch, but I really like to look.”

“Um … what do you mean?” I quirked an eyebrow at her. “You’re more than welcome to touch.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t. I’m not good enough.”

“You’re not good enough?” I asked, even more confused. “You are a thousand-dollar-an-hour-hooker-turned-mad-scientist. You’re basically the best person in the universe. Like an anime character come to life.”

My words made her frown, and she spun around. Only as she did, she opened her lab coat, letting me know she wasn’t wearing anything at all underneath.

“Does this look like the body of an anime character?” She cupped her breasts. “These aren’t nearly large enough.” She spun, leaning against the wall and giving me a great view of her ass. “And I’m flat back here too.” She shook her head as she looked back at me over her shoulder. “I have nothing to offer you other than being Asian. I don’t just want to be ‘the Asian chick.’” She made air quotes.

“Right.” I screwed up my face. “You’re not just the Asian chick, Cami.” I smiled at her. “I think you’re hot as hell.” I gestured down at not-so-little me. “He obviously agrees.”

Her eyes fixed on my dick for a second, and as she inhaled sharply, a tremor ran through her body. Then she forcibly tore her gaze away, stood up straight, and pulled her lab coat shut, causing her hard nipples to poke against the fabric.

“He doesn’t really.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen the way you look at Maggie, how everyone looks at Maggie.” She looked at her feet, cheeks flushed. “I want guys to look at me like that.”

“I’m not following,” I said, waving a hand between us. “Can you just pretend I’m a dumb guy who doesn’t understand why you’re upset but desperately wants you to be happy?”

“Fine.” She blew some hair out of her face. “I feel like my body isn’t as nice as all the other girls.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I was wondering if, maybe, you’d fix me.”

“Fix you?” I asked, taking a step toward her and touching her cheek with my fingers. “I think you’re fine how you are—”

“But I don’t.” She stepped back. “I want big breasts like an ‘anime character.’” She made air quotes as she said it. “And I wanna be thicker than Nicki Minaj.” She shook her ass a little.

“Um …”

“You can do that for me, can’t you?” She took a step forward, grabbing my dick. “If you did, I’d be ever so grateful.” She dropped to her knees in front of me and gave me a few quick licks that caused my brain to explode with pleasure. Damn, she was good at that. “You will do that for me, right?”

“Just so I’m clear,” I said as she took all of me in her mouth, which let me just say, wasn’t easy at all. “You want me to give you huge tits and a nicer butt?”

She popped my dick out of her mouth and looked up at me. “Yes.” She released me. “Then I really wanna finish this.” She pouted. “More than you know.”

“Right, okay,” I said, taking the pen from the chain around my neck and turning toward the paper sheet covering the wall to my left. Hey, don’t judge. If you had my power, you’d cover most of the walls with paper too. “What size tits would you like?”

2

“Wow, thanks for that.” Cami winked at me as she slid from the bed in her workshop, revealing her newly enhanced body. “It was better than I ever dreamed.” She took a wobbly step and reached out, bracing herself on the edge of the desk. Then she giggled. “Man, I can barely walk.”

“You know, it doesn’t have to be over,” I said, flashing a grin at her. “I don’t think anyone else is going to show up for a while.”

“If I get back in that bed, I’ll never get out of it, and you won’t either. Worse, I’ll never get to show you what I invented, and trust me, you really want to see it.” She shook her head. “No, we’ll stay there until people come to look for us, and then they’ll join in with us.” She frowned. “I don’t mind sharing, but not while I’m with you if that makes sense.”

“It’s fine. You’re not into girls.” I shrugged. “I’m not into guys, so it’s fine.”

“Glad you understand.” She shook her new ass at me a bit. “But if you hurry over here, we might have time for a bit more before they wake up.”

“Right, let’s do that,” I said, getting out of her bed and padding naked across the floor. As I moved, the ground seemed to heat, so that while the first few steps were chilly, it quickly moved to a more reasonable temperature. Goddamn Skye’s new AI was great.

“So, remember when we were talking about the problem with your pen?” She turned, her hard nipples pointing right at my pen because, in addition to the tits and ass, she’d wanted another foot or so of height.

“Yeah, the problem is that I still have to write stuff.” I frowned. “It’s why I taught myself shorthand.”

“Right.” Cami nodded at me before sidling around the workshop table and heading toward the far wall where a tube full of black, viscous goop was suspended about seven feet off the ground. “I think I fixed it.”

“You fixed it?” I asked, confused. “Fixed what exactly?” I looked down at the pen. “It seems to work pretty well …”

“It works pretty well when you can write.” As if to illustrate her point, she pushed a large red button beside her station. “Don’t resist.”

“Um …” I mumbled as a tube shot up from the floor, surrounding me in an instant, but because she’d told me not to resist, I stood there, stock still.

The tube filled up to my neck with goo the consistency of wet concrete. By the time I took a single breath, it had hardened into a suffocating mass that kept me from moving so much as a millimeter.

“Go ahead, try to escape.” She nodded at me. “I wonder if you can since this design was based off your idea.”

She was right of course. This was one of the pen-bearer traps I’d come up with in the wake of Wayne’s attack, and it was designed to make it so a person couldn’t move because, well, if you couldn’t move, you couldn’t write.

I tried anyway but, after a few moments, realized it was hopeless.

“I can’t.” I smirked at her, and I’ll be honest, I was a touch pleased. “This is perfect.”

“I thought it might be.” Cami sauntered toward me, and as she did, the tube itself slid back into the ground, leaving me contained in the cement-like trap. “But you should try to escape anyway.”

She circled around me while I struggled, and as she came around to face me, she put her hands on the front of the goop encasing me and smacked me in the face with her breasts a couple times. “Man, these are really great.” She frowned at me. “You’re not trying to get away.”

“All right, all right,” I said as she pulled back. This time I tried vainly to move, but still found myself stuck. “Nope. I think the trap works.”

“Right, and that’s lame.” She dropped back down to the ground. “Because I really want you to break out of that silly trap and bend me over the table.” She smiled slyly at me. “So, I figured out a way to do that with this.” She moved back across the room and pointed to the original cylinder.

“Oh?” I asked, staring at it while she hit the button beside the one that released the trap, causing the weird super-strong polymer encasing me to dissolve. Admittedly, as it bubbled away, it felt a lot like being trapped in a bathtub full of champagne.

“Yep.” She looked positively pleased with herself. “Just step under the tube, and I’ll show you.”

“Okay.” I nodded as the last of the goop bubbled away. It was weird because I actually felt cleaner than I had before I’d gotten trapped. Wondering what she had cooked up, I made my way under the tube and stood on the big red X. “Here?”

“Yep.” She pressed a button, and this time the bottom of the tube overhead opened, spilling the black goop down on top of me. Instead of splashing to the ground, it seemed to form around my body until I was entirely encased in what looked like a skintight black leotard.

“Um, this is neat, but I don’t see how it helps?” I gestured down at myself. “I do like how it makes my abs look though.” I gave her a thumbs-up. “So, points for that.”

“Go get trapped again.” She nodded back to the original spot and gave me a wicked grin. “Trust me. Shit is about to get awesome.”

“Right.” I looked down at myself once more, and even though I felt like I was wearing a weird version of the Venom symbiote from Spiderman, I did as she indicated.

Once again, she hit the button, and I was encased in the weird polymer.

“So, now what?” I asked when everything had finished.

“Now break out.” She nodded at me. “Just say something that’d get you out.”

“Um … right, okay.” I looked down at myself, and then feeling kind of dumb, said, “The goop dissolves.”

As I spoke the words, I felt the pen heat up, and something pinged in my ear. A second later, the goop dissolved, leaving me standing there.

“Whoa, what the fuck did you do?” I asked, unable to believe it.

“I rigged up a set of nanites that fuse to the tip of the pen, making the tip much, much smaller. The suit reacts to your commands to move the pen on a nearly microscopic level, writing what you say onto the nanofibers of the suit, making it happen.” She gave me a wide grin. “It sort of works with thoughts but not as well. We’re still trying to get the bugs out of that.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” I said, swallowing hard as I looked down at myself clad in my new black suit. “This is a game changer.”

“Yep.” She smiled at me before hopping up on the workbench and slowly spreading her legs. “How about you come here and show me how much you appreciate it?”

3

Two hours later, I finally made my way to the showers, only as I opened the door, I found Miss Montgomery leaning over the counter and peering into the mirror. The shower was already running, filling the room with steam that billowed over me, covering me in a wash of warmth.

I must have stood there staring for a long time because when my naked guidance counselor finally turned around, she sucked in a breath and made eye contact with little me who had reacted accordingly.

“Already?” she asked, finally turning her eyes to me. She gave me a smirk. “I’d hoped to have a bit of time to recover …” She took a step toward me, bare feet padding on the tile floor as the sound of the shower filled my ears. “But since you went out of your way to find me …” She drew her hand up toward her breasts, only as she touched her left nipple, she winced slightly.

“Actually, I didn’t come here for that.” I looked at my feet sheepishly. “I just wanted to get in the shower, it’s why I snuck out early, but then Cami found me and made me this suit.” I fingered the pendant around my neck, causing the suit to spring into being and cover me in an instant.

“Oh, thank God.” Miss Montgomery dropped her hand to her side. “I would have needed a vagina transplant for you to hit it again.” She nodded at me. “I mean, I’d have made it work, but yeah, I’ll be honest, the shower sounds better?” She gave me a sad smile as she looked me over. “I feel disgusting.” She gestured toward the shower. “I was just waiting for it to get warm.” That’s when she seemed to notice my new suit. “That suit though. It’s pretty amazing.”

“Thanks,” I said, looking down at myself. “It makes the pen voice activated, and it sort of all retreats into the necklace for the pendant.”

“Voice activated?” Miss Montgomery raised an eyebrow at me. “You mean, instead of having to write, you can just speak your commands?”

“Pretty much.” My eyes flicked to the shower, and I smiled at her. “Well, I won’t keep you since you were going to shower, and you don’t seem like you want company. You were here first. I’ll wait.” I stared longingly at the shower and wondered if I should add more stalls. Initially, the communal shower thing had seemed like a great idea since, well, I could stare at naked women, but at the same time, I sort of agreed with Miss Montgomery, being able to shower by myself from time to time sounded like about the best thing ever. That said, I had a brand-new suit I wanted to play with a bit. Waiting wouldn’t be a big deal.

“You can join me in the shower, Roger.” She turned and began walking toward the water. “I may not look like it, but I can behave myself.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “I just don’t prefer it.”

“I’m not sure why, but I don’t quite believe you. Still, if you’re serious, I guess I can wash your back?” I followed after her, and as I did, I retracted the suit back into the chain that held the pen, so that in a moment, I was standing there naked with the pen around my neck. “Then you can wash mine?”

“That would be divine,” she said, stepping into the water and causing it to cascade down her long red hair in a way that made me wish she hadn’t been so worn out, and Jesus, I needed to get a grip. I just had sex with Cami literally ten minutes ago.

“Are you coming?” she asked, turning and holding one of those fluffy pink luffa ball things out to me. Only as she saw me standing there, she swallowed hard before a mischievous smirk crept over her lips. “I’ve been very dirty.”

“Talk like that will definitely lead to you needing a vagina transplant,” I said, taking the luffa from her as I stepped into the water. And oh my God, it was like fucking Heaven. I don’t know how Skye had managed to program the AI so the water temperature was always perfect, but god fucking damn.

“Right, sorry.” Miss Montgomery leaned her back toward me. “Soap me up, and then I’ll soap you up.” She gave me a look. “Though now that I think about it, couldn’t you just make me not sore?”

“Nope. Can’t heal you like that,” I said before dousing my head once more and letting the warm water wash over me. Getting some soap from the dispenser, I squeezed the luffa a couple times. “It’s a little weird because I could make myself less sore, but not other people.” I’d learned that after the first night when Gail had started wincing during sex.

“Well, you better hurry then,” she whispered. “If you don’t, we’ll have company.” She was silent a second. “I know you don’t think that’s bad, but then I’ll never get out of here.” She shivered. “Shower sex is like my favorite sex, so even if I can’t participate, I’ll be forced to stay and watch.” She waved a hand. “It will be a whole thing.”

“Right.” I began scrubbing her back, making very careful to do a good job because if someone were washing me, I’d want them to do a good job. As I ran my soapy hands over her pale skin, images of her in very different positions danced through my mind, and before I realized it, she’d reached down, grabbing little me in one soapy hand, stroking him a couple times.

“Seems like you can’t even wash me without getting excited.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

“I thought you couldn’t actually have sex right now because you were sore?” I asked right before she did a weird twist thing with her hand that made me moan.

“Well, here’s the thing about women.” She winked at me. “We have a couple different places you can put it.”

4

“Are you hungry, Mandy?” I asked a few hours later as I stared out at the crocodile pool. Below me, the giant crocodile in the tank below made no visible response other than to eye the bucket of chicken in my hands. “Of course, you are.”

I upended the bucket into the pool, and as Mandy and the six other crocs made their way toward it, I smiled. I don’t know why but having a pool full of crocodiles made me feel like a badass. I mean, okay, it was like evil overlord 101 to have a croc tank, but I wouldn’t be dumb enough to actually make someone walk the plank into it or anything. That’s why we’d spent the last little bit trying to come up with anti-pen-bearer defenses.

Thankfully, ever since we’d taken down Wayne and transferred him to Agent Smith and the FBI, we hadn’t had any trouble.

That said, failing to plan was planning to fail.

“I feel like you enjoy your crocodiles a little too much,” Marty, my best friend and now head of security, said as he came toward me dressed in combat pants, and a bandolier of grenades that made him look like Rambo thanks to his well-muscled chest. That was another thing we hadn’t cracked yet. I could literally write Marty having huge muscles, but if he got hurt, I couldn’t write him well again. And making him invulnerable or giving him super strength? That was a no go.

“Man, I enjoy everything a bit too much. That’s like a perk of the job as overlord.” I nodded to him as he moved next to me and leaned his back against the railing like he wasn’t worried about falling twenty feet into the enclosure and getting eaten.

“Ha. Ha,” Marty said, rolling his eyes at me. “That’s sort of what I came to talk to you about.” He looked me over. “Are you wearing the suit?”

“Yeah, I just wore this over it.” I gestured at myself in my white button up and jeans.

“You wore your uniform from the Super Mart over your clothes?” he asked before shaking his head. “You have a whole closet full of clothes…”

“I dunno, man. There’s something about pen-created clothing that bugs me.” I picked at the shirt. “I guess I should go shopping.”

“That’s actually why I came here.” Marty shifted, bringing around a suitcase. “I need you to make some more cash.”

“Why would we need cash?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I can create more or less whatever we want.”

“Dude, we need to buy things.” He gestured at the crocs. “Like we bought those because you didn’t want to create living creatures.”

“Right, but I thought we had most of the money from the casino?” I asked as he opened the suitcase, revealing a bunch of one-dollar bills.

“It’s almost all gone. After what Skye paid those hackers for that bleeding edge computer gear, and what Cami’s been buying for her mad scientist stuff …” Marty shook the suitcase at me. “Then there’s the armory. That cost a lot. We’re just spending like crazy.”

“Why didn’t you have me make that stuff?” I asked, confused.

“You were kinda busy.” He made a nod back toward where my room was. “You told me to just have them buy stuff, and they have been, so …”

“Do you have a bank account?” I asked, moving to the suitcase and glancing at it. “All the bills are now one-hundred-dollar bills.” There was a ping in my ear as the suitcase’s contents changed from ones to hundreds. “Like, I could just write a bunch of money into it …”

“I thought you tried that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “Like didn’t that not work? I thought you could only make bills and loans paid, but you couldn’t actually create money as it were.”

“Well, I was going to try again.” I threw my hands up. “What’s the other option, keep making suitcases full of money?” I gestured at it. “We can’t even really spend that. Like, what? We just walk into a bank and try to deposit a suitcase full of money? We don’t even know if it’d pass inspection…” Marty was smiling at me as I spoke. “Wait, what if I made gold or diamonds or something? You know, pretend I’m an alchemist?”

“The problem would be selling it. Do you want to try selling gold or diamonds or baseball cards?” He raised an eyebrow. “Want me to set up a store on eBay?”

“That’s not a terrible idea …” I rubbed my chin. “But it feels so small time. And big-ticket items that would net real cash might draw suspicion. So far, we’ve been under the radar, but if I suddenly sold an Action Comics number one in mint condition? That’d draw notice.”

“That’s why I think that perhaps you should give the Vegas thing another go.” He held the suitcase out to me. “Go turn this into some real money so we can actually use it to make money.”

“Was this your plan all along?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “To have me go out on the town and make some money?”

“Sort of.” Marty waved a hand dismissing my words. “I was talking to Skye, and she came up with the idea.” He flushed a bit. “She and I have been talking a lot actually.”

“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “If it’s a sex thing, I don’t really care, but Lisa might …”

“It’s not a sex thing.” He looked away. “Even if I wanted to fuck Skye, she and most of the others wouldn’t do it.”

“What? Why? I made you into a sex god too, just like you asked.” I stared at him in confusion because in a lot of ways, Marty was actually a lot more desirable looking than I was, and I said that as a totally straight man.

“Because no one wants to fuck Robin when they can fuck Batman, dude.” He shrugged. “No one besides Robin’s girl, anyway.” He gave me a wry grin. “And to be honest, she’s more than enough for me. I don’t know how you get anything done.” He laughed then. “Actually, that’s why you never get anything done.”

“I don’t really, but those are sacrifices I’m willing to make for my girls.” I smirked, and he socked me lightly on the shoulder. “Anyway, so what’s the idea for the money?” I took the case from him. “Because I’m totally willing to go to Las Vegas and win a bunch for the team.”

“Skye is still drawing that up.” He paused like he was waiting for me to respond, and when I didn’t, he continued, “But, honestly, dude, you’ve been cooped up in here for weeks.” He gestured at the crocs. “And you spend all your time with the fucking crocodiles.”

“It makes me feel like a Bond villain.” I nodded to Mandy who eyed me like I would taste delicious.

“You are a Bond villain, dude.” Marty put his arm around my shoulder. “Go out, have fun, blow off some steam and stop thinking about that FBI chick and the other pen bearers.” He rubbed his thumb against his index and middle finger. “And make some scratch so we can keep living large.”

I wanted to disagree with him, to tell him that it was stupid, but he had a point. I’d spent most of my free time wondering about the other pen bearers. Did they all have pens like mine? Did they have different powers? Hell, why hadn’t they attacked yet?

I’d tried to ask Agent Smith, but since she’d made it clear she wouldn’t help me unless I joined the FBI, I was on my own. Sure, part of me had contemplated the idea of joining up, but the larger part wasn’t interested. The way I saw it, the FBI was just another tool of the pen bearers, and last I checked, they didn’t exactly need the help.

“Okay,” I said after a moment, but as I spoke, Marty replied like he hadn’t listened to my response.

“Look, you should at least consider … wait? Did you agree?” He gave me a once-over. “Are you sure?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I figured it’d be more of an argument. Skye made a presentation.”

“Well, for one, I trust you guys.” I waited until he nodded before continuing, “And all my top people agree I should do it. I don’t keep you around for your pretty faces.” I winked. “That’s just a bonus.”

“That’s kinda gay, dude.” Marty shuffled uncomfortably.

“You’re kinda gay, dude.” I snorted. “Anyway, I can spare some time to go out and make us some startup capital.” I tapped my head. “Maybe some exercise will get the mental commands working. Last time I tried, I manifested a cabbage.”

“What were you trying to manifest?” Marty asked, curiosity leaking into my voice.

“The bucket of chicken.” I pointed to the spot where I’d dumped the empty bucket. “Let me just say, Mandy does not like cabbage.”

“Dude, no one likes cabbage.” Marty turned as he spoke and stared down into the pool where a lone cabbage floated in the water. “Ugh, it’s the purple one too.” He stuck his tongue out. “Gross.”

“I didn’t make it on purpose,” I said with a shrug. “As I said, that shit needs to get fixed, but either way, we’re good.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pad. “Either way, I have my backup.” I smacked the pad on the railing. “So, what’s the plan exactly?”

“It’s easy.” Marty shrugged. “You go topside and make some money for us. If things get too crazy, say the safe word, and we’ll come help you.” He smiled. “It’s ‘cowabunga.’”

“Cowabunga?” I repeated, somewhat confused. “Why cowabunga?”

“Dude, have you ever tried to work ‘cowabunga’ into normal conversation? It’s damned near impossible.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and smacked me on the back. “But don’t worry, I’m sure everything will be fine.” He smirked and began walking toward Cami’s lab. “In fact, the AI predicts a ninety-eight percent chance of nothing happening.”

“So, there is a two percent chance of someone coming after me?” I followed behind him. “‘Cause with those odds, we might get attacked.”

“Well, if that happens, we’ll get a lot of data by seeing how you get attacked so we can adjust accordingly.” Marty looked at me over his shoulder. “Besides, what else are you gonna do? Stay here and fuck your girls for the six thousandth time?” He frowned. “Because I saw Miss Montgomery before I came out here. Girl needs a break, bro.”

5

Two hours later, I was standing outside the Medallion with explicit instructions to “do whatever the fuck I wanted” as long as I made money. It was a bit weird because this was the first time I’d been outside my lair in months. While I wouldn’t say the sunlight burned me like I was a fucking vampire, it was brighter than I’d remembered, and the temperature left something to be desired.

I glanced up and down the avenue looking for people trying to get me before looking down at my pad and smiling. My line was still written there.

No other Pen Bearers can find me.

I shouldn’t have worried. The AI Skye and her cohort had designed gave me just over seventy-two hours before I was likely to be found by someone trying to kill me and take my pen. That seemed like more than enough time to make some money, and besides, I was starting to feel a bit cooped up.

Smiling to myself, I took a deep breath of the Las Vegas air and glanced around. The streets were filled with people sloppily carrying those giant margarita cups, and as I watched a particularly boisterous group amble by me with plans to “tear it up, bro,” I grinned.

It was time to have some fun. To forget about my troubles and cut loose. Maybe I’d start with a giant margarita.

I relaxed my grip on both my pad and pen, and as I did, the suit beneath the sleeve of my white button up seemed to absorb them, pulling them out of view and hiding them beneath the cuffs. It was a little weird, and as I flicked my right wrist once, the pen reappeared in my hand. Yet another improvement to having to grab it from my pocket or necklace.

Yeah, sure, I could have used the voice commands or whatever, but part of me was going to feel stupid using them if it wasn’t life or death. Besides, if another Pen Bearer was watching, I didn’t want to give away my ace in the hole just yet.

Nodding to myself, I made my way toward the front of the casino so I could catch a ride. The Medallion was nice, sure, but it was no Emperor’s Palace or whatever. Actually, for all I knew, it was. Honestly, I just wanted to go to Emperor’s Palace and see the statues move around.

As I made my way toward the taxi pickup, I found a line of people and frowned. Part of me wanted to avoid the line and just use my pen to make a limo show up, but as I moved toward the line, I realized I didn’t want to be driven. No, I wanted to walk.

Taking another gulp of air, I decided to do just that. After all, catching a taxi, a limo, or a fucking helicopter filled with swimsuit models was just a flick of the wrist away.

Spinning on my heel, I began to walk back up toward the street when my heightened senses picked up the sound of someone shuffling behind me. No, not just behind me, but shuffling like they were after me.

“Seventy-two hours my ass,” I murmured to myself, taking a few quick steps as my heart started to pound. I wondered what they were going to come up at me with. Mechs? Bazookas? Sniper rounds from a thousand yards away?

No, maybe it was something simpler, like a hypodermic needle to the neck.

“Do you need something?” I asked, whirling around, pen already in hand as I brought it to my pad, ready to unleash a hail of spiders on whoever was unfortunate enough to follow me.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else,” slurred the disheveled brunette as she looked me over. She had one high heel in her hand, but both her feet were bare. The left strap of her red dress had slid off her shoulder and was wrapped around her upper arm, causing the top of the fabric to slip so dangerously low over her cleavage that I could see the dark edge of her nipple.

I’ll be honest, I noticed her face next and was surprised to find she was older than I’d expected. Perhaps mid-thirties but it was hard to tell, thanks to the smeared eye makeup and lipstick.

“You’re sorry?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Why is that?” I tapped the pad with my pen, trying to decide whether or not she was up to no good.

Instead of responding, the brunette took a huge gulp of air right before she yacked all over the sidewalk between us.

“Oh god,” I said, leaping back to avoid the spray as the brunette looked up and wiped her mouth with the back of one hand.

“Sorry,” she mumbled again, and because it looked like she was going to face plant into a pile of her own puke, I moved to grab her.

As my pen and pad slipped into the cuffs of my shirt, my arms slid around her body, pulling her away.

“Thanks,” she mewled and looked back at me, eyes still glassy. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” I replied as she tried to hold her well-manicured right hand out to me, which was awkward because I was supporting her weight.

“I’m Veronica,” she slurred, eyes raking over me as she spun drunkenly in my arms and gripped me for balance, so I was supporting almost all her weight. “But my friends call me Ronnie.”

“Okay,” I replied as she forcibly shook my arm with her free hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ronnie.”

“So, we’re friends, are we?” She quirked a delicate eyebrow at me. “How do I know I can trust you?” Then she tried to karate chop me in the shoulder, only because I was too quick, she wound up catching only empty air and stumbling forward, her one high heel going flying across the sidewalk.

“Waaaaa!” she cried, and as she was about to stumble into a planter, I grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back to her feet.

“You can cut the act,” I said, spinning her around. “Who hired you?”

“Hired me?” Her eyes got wide. “Oh my god, you think I’m a prostitute.” She smacked herself on the side of the head with one palm, and the movement nearly caused her to fall over. “Stupid, stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re a prostitute,” I said as she continued to mumble to herself.

“You don’t?” She turned her baby blues on me, confusion filling them, and I got the distinct impression that she was probably really intelligent when she wasn’t so, well, drunk off her ass. “Then why did you think I’d been hired?”

“It’s not important,” I said, and as I moved to walk away from her, she grabbed my arm.

“Um … you seem like a nice boy.” Her eyes went to her bare feet, and I noticed all her toenails had been painted hot pink save for the big one, which was white with a strawberry in the center.

“Thanks?” I said, wanting to get away from her. I had no idea what she wanted, but I knew one thing. Having this girl stall me in front of where I’d exited my lair via underground tunnel was probably bad, which was also why I was going to a different casino.

“You’re welcome.” She swallowed. Once. Twice. Three times. Then she put up her hand. “I’m not going to throw up again.” She put her hand on my chest. “I think.” She gave me a weak smile.

“That’s nice.” I nodded to her. “Say, maybe you need to sit down for a while?” I pointed to a bench a few meters away. “Or better yet, go back to your room.”

Only as I said the words, she burst out crying and buried her face in my shirt. “I don’t have a room!” she whined, inhaling hard.

“Wha—”

“I was supposed to come here with my boyfriend, but then I found out the bastard was cheating on me with my step-brother.” She looked at the sky. “I mean, do you know how that feels? I’m so bad in bed, my boyfriend turned gay!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works—”

“So, I said to myself, Ronnie, you’re a big girl. You go on that trip anyway.” She pulled away and nodded sullenly. “Then I came here, but my stupid ex had already shown up with my step-brother, Troy.” She wailed loudly. “Still, I tried to make the best of it. I put on my big girl dress, dolled myself up in the casino bathroom, and tried to have fun until my sister Lacy showed up. Only, that’s not until tomorrow, and I haven’t dated in years, let alone flirted with guys.” She snorted, burying her face into my shirt again and yeah, I was going to need a new shirt. “I was so nervous, I got a couple shots …” She pulled away from me and gave me a long, hard look. “I’m not normally like this.”

“I believe you,” I said, patting her head because I was unsure of what else to do.

“Thanks,” she said, trying to stand back up and swaying. “Vegas kinda sucks when you’re all alone and shy.” That’s when her face turned bright red. “Oh wow, you must think I’m a total basket case. I’m not, I promise.”

“It’s okay, really.” I glanced around, looking for a way to escape, and finding none.

“You want to go too …” She took a step back, tripped, and fell on her butt, which was also when I realized she wasn’t wearing panties. “I understand.” She tried to put on a brave face. “Why would you want to talk to me?” That’s when tears spilled from her eyes, and as I stood there, I realized I was way too nice of a guy to just leave her there like this.

“Actually, I really didn’t have a lot to do today.” I held out my hand to her. “Maybe I could buy you a drink?” I gave her a reassuring smile. “I can probably spend a couple hours waiting with you until your sister shows up.”

“Really?” she asked, looking at me. “You’re not just saying that because I’m sad and pathetic, and you feel sorry for me?”

“No, I’m saying that because you’re not wearing underwear and that’s kind of my kryptonite.” As I spoke, I realized it was probably the wrong thing to say, because she plunged her hands between her legs, pulling the hem of her dress down.

“I was trying to feel sexy,” she mumbled, looking away.

“Well, it’s working.” I nodded to her. “And I have a room at Emperor’s Palace.” Well, I would, thanks to that voice command. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

“You’re not just saying that so you can lure me back to your room and have your way with me, are you?” She gave me a long look, and when I didn’t immediately respond, she mumbled under her breath. “Yeah, as if a guy that hot would want to do anything with you.” She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet and took a hesitant step toward me, and as she did, I hooked her arm with mine.

“Come on, my limo just pulled up over there.” I pointed across the way while using a quick voice command to make it so that the driver inside decided he wanted to pick me up.

“You have a limo?” As she turned to look, the chauffeur got out of the long black stretch job across the way and looked around.

“Yeah,” I said, waving my free hand at the driver, signaling him to come help. As he started toward us, I smiled at Ronnie. “Doesn’t everyone?”

6

“I feel like I’m in that Fifty Shades movie,” Ronnie said, leaning against me in the back of the limo. I wasn’t sure if she was doing it on purpose or if it was just because she was drunk, but either way after I’d tried to move away a couple times and had her just scooch closer to me, I’d given up.

“The Fifty Shades movie?” I asked, trying to figure out what she was talking about. “Isn’t that a book?”

“It is?” Her hand slipped onto my knee as she waved away the question with her other one. “You know, rich guy picks up a struggling reporter, takes her away to have his way with her.” She bit her lip, lost in her fantasy. “Though I’m not a reporter.”

“What makes you think I’m rich?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her as the driver started the limo.

“Is that a real question?” She looked me up and down. “We’re in a limo.”

“Maybe I’m trying to impress women so I can have my way with them?” I asked, and she burst out laughing.

“Oh, is this where you ask me if I want to see your pleasure room?” she hiccupped, and then turned away from me, cheeks red. “Say, does this thing have alcohol?” She held up a hand as she slid across the seat toward the alcohol cabinet. “I know you think I’ve had enough—”

“I never said that.” I watched her rummage around for a moment before coming up with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Oh, Roger. How’d you know to bring my one true friend?” She shook the bottle at me. “Wanna do a shot with me?”

“Yeah, all right,” I said, and she nodded once. Then she poured an entire drinking glass full of whiskey and handed it to me.

“Go on. You’re playing catch up.” She took a gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle and wiped her mouth. “What?” she added when she caught me staring at her. “Never met a girl from Tennessee?”

“No, actually.” I frowned and looked at my drink.

“Well, let me tell you one thing,” she said, sidling toward me and sitting on my lap. She wiggled her butt a little as she took the hand holding the glass and brought it to my lips.

“You know, if this is spiked, it will turn green?” I said, activating the voice command, but when the drink stayed its normal caramel color, I relaxed and took a sip.

“Is that true?” She gave the alcohol a long look. “I didn’t even think to check.” She smacked her forehead with the base of the bottle. “God, I am so dumb.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I took another sip, and as the warmth of the whiskey washed over me, I felt some of the tension between my shoulders melt away. “I’m just a little paranoid.”

“Oh.” She giggled. “Do you think I’m trying to get you drunk so I can murder you or something? Maybe slip a little something in your drink.” She touched my chest again with her free hand, and this time bit her lip. “Because I’m just trying to get you drunk enough to fuck me.” She flushed so hard almost all of her exposed skin turned scarlet.

“Wait, what?” I asked. I mean, okay, I was known to be dense, but this came off as a bit, well, I wasn’t sure. She just didn’t really seem like the type to jump into bed with the first guy she saw, lack of panties notwithstanding.

“I thought maybe if I got you drunk …” She slipped off my lap and onto the seat next to me. Then she took a giant swig from the bottle. “Imagine you’re me, and the guy you’ve been sleeping with for the last two years turned gay.”

“I really don’t think that’s how it works,” I said, looking her over.

“Maybe it’s just that I’m old?” She cupped her breasts and shook them at me. “I mean, do guys even want to see these now?”

“Ronnie, maybe just take a minute and think about what you’re doing,” I said right before she unslung her straps, causing the dress to fall around her waist and revealing her full breasts complete with hard, dark nipples.

“I always thought they were nice, but at the same time they aren’t as nice as they used to be …” She looked up at me. “What do you think?” She bit her lip. “If you say they’re nice, I’ll believe you.”

“They’re great. Perfect really.” It was true. They were, and a lot of me wanted to reach out and touch them.

“Okay.” She nodded, looking down at herself before pulling her dress back up. That’s also when she realized what she’d done. “I can’t believe …”

“Me either, but I’m glad you did. It was quite the show.” I leaned back and took another sip of my drink. “Really.”

“I believe you, which is great because you seem like the type of guy who gets a lot of girls.” She nodded and then took another swig from the bottle. “I bet you’re just great in bed.”

“Is that why you wanted to sleep with me?” I asked, strangely surprised at the turn of events that had transpired. I’d literally left a base full of hotties, and now I was in a limo with a drunk girl from Tennessee.

“Well, I also just wanted to prove I could attract a high-quality guy like yourself.” She grabbed my shirt and leaned her head against my shoulder. “You know, prove I’ve still got it.”

“Ah.” I stared at her for a moment, and as she looked up at me, lips parted, I realized what was going on. “Seems your ex really did a number on you.”

“I guess.” She took another swig from the bottle, and this time her eyes got a little glassier. “But sometimes, a girl just wants to find a nice guy to make her feel good for a night.” She waved the bottle toward the limo. “Regrets are for tomorrow.” She looked back at me. “And something tells me I’m going to regret you a whole lot.”

“Wait, what?” I asked.

“Oh, you’re one hundred percent getting laid. You’re a nice guy, and it’s about time a nice guy gets rewarded with some fucking.” She looked away. “In fact, the only reason I haven’t ripped all your clothes off right now is because going to your room feels classier than fucking you in the limo. At least then you have to throw me out of your room as opposed to just telling the driver to pull over and kicking my ass to the curb afterward.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I said, finishing my drink and setting it down, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to feel it.

“I believe you, which is why we can totally make out in the limo if you want.” She smiled at me. “Unless you want me to take a shower first.” She frowned and looked down at herself. “That might be a good idea actually.”

“Actually, I have a trick for that,” I said as we pulled up outside Emperor’s Palace.

“A trick for what?” Ronnie frowned at me before raising the bottle of whiskey. “Is this where you tell me to brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack?”

“Ha.” I smirked. “No. I mean, I’m something of a magician, and I’ve been working on a cleaning spell.” I gave her a once over. “Trust me, you’ll be spic and span in a moment.” I held my hand out to her. “That is if you’ll trust me?”

“You’re a magician?” She gave me a horrified look. “Like David Copperfield?” She glanced around the limo. “Do you perform at Emperor’s Palace or something?”

“I’m not a performer, no.” I shrugged. “Just go with it. Unless you want to walk through a casino …” I trailed off as she looked down at herself, which was when she probably realized she looked like she’d been on a three-day bender. Sure, it was nothing a trip to a shower couldn’t fix, but why wait?

“Wow, I’m kind of embarrassed. In my defense, I clean up really nice.” She took a swig from the bottle. Then another. “I was a former Miss Tennessee, actually.” She flushed again and waved the bottle at me. Then she met my eyes. “Whatever, you’ll see. Magic me up, so I don’t look like I got rode hard and put away wet.” She nodded. “Then you’ll be like ‘god damn, that’s one fine bitch I get to fuck.’ I mean it’s either that or I’ll cry really hard.”

“H’okay,” I said, trying to ignore her crazy. “Shut your eyes. I’m serious. No blinking.”

“Fine.” She shut her eyes. And then made a show of covering her face with her hands. “You’d better hurry though because the whole world is spinning.”

“I will,” I said, waving my hands in front of her and activating my pen. “Ronnie is now clean like she’s freshly showered, her makeup is fixed, and her clothes are freshly laundered.” As I said the words, there was a small pop in my ear, letting me know my line had worked.

“Is that it?” she asked, and like a dumbass, I nodded. “Well?” she added because, duh, she had her eyes closed and couldn’t see me.

“Sorry, I’m an idiot. Yeah, we’re done.” As I finished speaking, she opened her eyes and looked down at herself. Then she squealed with joy.

“How the flying fuck did you do that?” She looked up at me, and it was the first time I saw what she’d look like all primped and proper. I mean, okay, I knew she’d said she was a former Miss Tennessee, but daaaamn.

“I told you, I am something of a magician.” I smiled at her right before she leaped on me.

“No magician could do that,” she said, running her hands all over me. “So how did you—” She stopped speaking as her hands moved under my shirt. Then she swallowed and looked at me. “No fucking way.”

“Eh?” I asked right before she pulled my shirt up, revealing my rock-hard abs.

“You’re fucking built.” She did a little shimmy of joy. “Oh, it’s my lucky day.” She nodded at me. “I was gonna ride you so hard that your dick would’ve broken off for a lot of bad reasons, but now?” She licked her lips as she dropped down to my stomach. “Now, I just want to fuck you ‘cause you’re super-hot, and I don’t give a flying fuck if that makes me a bad person.”

“I thought you wanted to wait until we got to the room?” I asked right before she licked my stomach, sending a shiver of pleasure running through me.

“Yeah, well …” She looked up at me, and her eyes were awash with lust. “That was before I realized that your body is better than his.” She pointed out the window at the statue of Poseidon in all his naked glory. “Now, I kinda wanna see it.” She touched her chin, thinking. “But I don’t think it will be as fun here because we can’t stay in bed all day and order room service.”

“I feel like you’ve got this all planned out,” I said as she slid away from me, letting me know I wasn’t going to get one of my favorite things just yet.

“I’m just going on whiskey and adrenaline.” She smiled at me as the chauffeur opened the door, causing the bright sunlight to spill into the limo. “It’s either that or heartbreak and fuck that noise.”

“I agree,” the chauffeur said, holding his hand out so he could help us out of the limo. “Fuck that noise. Sadness is for the birds.”

“See, he gets it,” Ronnie said as we climbed out of the limo and I pulled out a couple of the hundreds. I handed them to the limo driver, who pocketed them before heading back to the front of the car.

“So, I had a thought,” I said, glancing from Ronnie to the casino. “I thought it’d be fun to show you off a bit.” I put my arm out. “It’s not often I have a super-hot girl on my arm.” I waited for a beat. “Is it selfish of me to want to be seen with someone like you? I’ve never really strutted my stuff with a hot girl on my arm.” I looked at my feet sheepishly. “You know, let the old geezers inside get jealous?”

“You want to show me off?” she squeaked, going stone still. “No one’s done that in fifteen years.”

“Well, then they’re fools,” I said right before she leaped into my arms and kissed me.

When Ronnie finally released me, we stepped through the doors of the casino, and I was once again assaulted by how damned loud it was. Sure, it was a weekday, and only about mid-afternoon, but even still the place was crowded, and the swell of humanity felt suddenly overwhelming.

7

As I made my way to the roulette table with Ronnie on my arm, I smiled at the dealer. He was a tall black man with a gold earring in one ear and a shaved head, and as I approached, he looked at me for a second before shrugging.

“Minimum bet is five hundred dollars.” He smiled at me like he expected me to walk, and when I slapped down fifty grand on the table, he nodded once and continued without missing a beat. “The maximum inside bet is fifteen hundred dollars any way to the number.” He pushed a stack of chips to me. “Maximum outside bet is two thousand dollars.”

“Right, okay.” I nodded to him before turning to Ronnie. “What number should we pick?” I asked, picking up a stack of chips and handing it to her.

“You want me to pick?” she squealed, taking the chips like she was afraid she might break them. “I don’t know anything about roulette.” She swallowed. “And this is a lot of money.”

“It will be fine.” I patted her hand. “Pick a number.”

“Um …” she bit her lip. “How about twenty-two?” she looked at me for confirmation.

“Sounds great,” I said, nodding to her. “Do what I do.” She nodded as I took fifteen hundred dollars in chips and placed it on twenty-two. Then I added another three grand between the twenty-five and twenty-two and an additional six grand on the corner.

“Like this?” Ronnie asked, copying me. “And wow, I can’t believe I just put down over ten grand. That feels crazy.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” I smiled at her and dropped another two grand on second twelve.

“Jesus, this is insane.” She swallowed, and when the dealer swept his arm over the table ending the bets, she clung to me. “I’m so nervous.”

“Don’t be,” I said before looking right at the spinning wheel. “The ball will land on twenty-two.”

There was a ping in my ear, and as the ball settled in the slot for twenty-two, I smiled. I always liked roulette because it was such a game of chance. There was no way to get caught counting cards or whatever else. Because you know, pure luck, right?

“Oh my god, we won!” she screamed as the dealer smiled at us and pushed a massive fuck ton of chips toward us. “How much is that?”

“Just over three hundred thousand.” I smiled as I looked at the board. “Each.”

“Each?” Her jaw dropped. “That’s … insane. I’ve like never had that much money ever … not that it’s mine.”

“You can keep it,” I said with a shrug. “You’re my muse, after all.”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple times as I nodded back to the table. “Pick another number.”

She did, and we continued.

“Fourteen!” the dealer said, looking right at me five rounds later. “That is some incredible luck, mister.”

“I know, right?” I smirked at him and tossed him a hundred-grand chip. “How about we go again?”

He snatched the chip from the air and stared at it for a second, rolling it over in his fingers. “Are you being serious right now?” He shook it at me. “With this?”

“Uh … yeah.” I shrugged, and his grin widened to titanic proportions.

“Thanks.” He swallowed hard and put it with his tips even though I could tell he wanted to pocket it. No, he wanted to run off and cash it.

“You’re welcome.” I nodded at Ronnie. “How about you pick one more, then we go get you some nice clothes with our winnings?”

“That sounds like a dream … this whole thing is a dream.” She looked at me wide-eyed as she sipped her Jack and Coke. “An absolute fucking dream.” She leaned in close then, so her breath was hot in my ear. “Does it make me shallow that I’m super attracted to you right now because I totally am.”

“That was the idea,” I said, glancing back at the table. “So, what’s the last number?”

“Eighteen,” she said, and as we started laying out chips, the dealer smiled sadly at me.

“I’m almost sad to see you go, sir. Your tips have been great.”

“Hey, you know, it’s no biggie” I shrugged as he called for bets. “It is going to land on eighteen.” I paused until I heard the ping in my ear. “So, it’s almost not even gambling.”

“If you say so—”

The dealer went completely slack in mid-sentence as did everyone at the table. No, it was more than that because the entire casino was suddenly unnaturally silent. Sure, I could hear the machines and whatnot, but I couldn’t hear people. Not talking, not moving, not doing anything.

“Um… what’s going on?” Ronnie asked, gripping my arm tightly as she looked around. “Everyone just stopped moving.

“Give me the pen, Roger Stevens.” The dealer looked straight at me in a way that made me think he couldn’t actually see me. “If you don’t, I will kill you, your friends, and everyone you’ve ever talked to.” Everyone in the immediate area turned to look at me with the same blank expression.

“Roger, what is he talking about?” Ronnie practically shrieked, but I was fixated on the dealer. I didn’t know what was going on, but this shit wasn’t cool. Not even slightly.

“No.” I glared at the dealer even though I was pretty sure he was a patsy for another pen bearer. One who thought he could fuck with me. Well, he was about to see how wrong he was.

“You think you can keep your pen from me, don’t you? You think you can hide in your base beneath the Medallion? That I do not know precisely where you are? I know everything, and I have used my pen a lot longer than you have, Roger. I own this world.” The dealer’s face turned into a smile. “Think about what I have said, Roger. Dwell on it if you must, but know that this entire state is mine, and I will not allow you to steal from me any longer.” He waved his hand at the casino. “You have twenty-four hours to decide, I suggest you make the most of them because after that, I will crush you beneath my heel should you resist.”

The entire scene shifted back to normal so suddenly, I still had the man’s words rumbling in my heads even as he called lucky number eighteen.

Thing was, as he pushed another six hundred grand in chips toward us, I realized I didn’t feel very lucky.

No. I was pissed off.

Really, really pissed off.

I didn’t know who this guy was, but I’d find him, and I’d kill him because no one threatens my people and me. That was for damned sure.

8

“Roger, what is going on?” Ronnie asked, tugging on my arm and bringing me back to the present. “What just happened to everyone?”

“Some asshole thinks he can fuck with me and mine,” I snapped, glaring at the dealer even though I knew it wasn’t his fault. He was just some poor schmuck who had been mind-jacked by some pen-wielding douchebag.

“Yeah … I sorta got that.” She tried to smile at me. “But how did that all happen?”

“Do you really want to know?” I asked, turning to look at her as I glanced back at the table. “Sixteen will win.”

As the sound of success in my ears pinged, and people rushed to bet on sixteen, I gathered up all our chips and headed to cash out. All in all, I had made a few million dollars. That would be enough for Marty and Skye to start, and besides, I wanted to let them know what was going on. The sooner we found this guy, the better, and I wanted the whole team working on it. Then my next call was going to be to Agent Smith at the FBI. She’d help me, or I’d march over there and make her.

“Yes. I want to know.” Ronnie swallowed hard, moving to keep up with me, and as I glanced back at her, I saw the roulette table had indeed landed on sixteen. Good. He wasn’t actively thwarting my powers. Whether that was because he simply hadn’t or couldn’t remained to be seen.

“Are you sure?” I asked her, making a point of staring at her dead on. “Once I tell you, there’s not really unknowing.”

“That person threatened all your friends.” Ronnie’s face went pale. “That includes me, doesn’t it?”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” I heard a creak in the ceiling above me. Glancing upward, I saw one of the ceiling tiles move. It wasn’t a lot, just barely a few centimeters, but it was enough to let me know someone was up there.

“I believe that.” She nodded. “I want to know.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. The ceiling above creaked again, and as it did, I wondered what was up there. I wasn’t really sure, but something told me it was bad. After all, why would that asshole give me twenty-four hours? I sure as shit wouldn’t do that. I’d say I’d give it and then attack immediately…

“Well?” Ronnie asked, looking at me expectantly.

“Take these chips and deposit them into my account.” After the command pinged in my ear, and she nodded, I handed her the bag before rattling off my account number. “You can still keep that three hundred grand I promised you, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She looked at the bag for a moment. “I’ll go do that.” She spun on her heel, making her way toward the cash out booth. “But don’t think this means I’ve forgotten you promised to tell me.” She gave me a wink.

“I won’t,” I said as the tiles creaked again. Ronnie said something as she headed off to deposit the money, but my mind was already going into overdrive.

As I opened my mouth to turn the ceiling into solid steel or something, three of the ceiling panels exploded inward, spraying me with debris as two black-clad assassins unloaded on me.

“Guns are empty,” I growled, throwing one arm up and moving to block the shots spraying into the ground around us. The bullets stopped coming right as a garrote slipped around my neck, and for an instant, I was grateful it was thicker rope. Otherwise, it could have severed my carotid artery.

As it stood, it kind of sucked because even though I got my fingers up in time to keep it from completely strangling me, it was almost impossible to breathe, let alone talk. No voice commands. Dammit.

“You shouldn’t have made that last command,” the assassin said, his voice close enough to my ear that I knew no one else could hear him. Not that it mattered because no one was paying any attention to us whatsoever. “Do you yield? Just tap out, and I won’t kill you.” He cinched the garrote tighter, shifting his weight to pull me from my feet.

Stars started to flash across my vision as two more assassins dropped from the ceiling, letting me know that there were three total. Not the best odds, but I’d dealt with worse.

My fight or flight reflex kicked in. Only, that wouldn’t help me now. No. I needed to think, to try and do something in the next few seconds I had before I blacked out completely.

Making my pen slide into my hand was nearly the hardest thing I had ever thought of, but as it touched my fingers, I jammed it into the attacker’s thigh.

He cried out, releasing his hold on the garrote enough for me to suck in a breath. My vision cleared a touch as my feet hit the ground and I threw myself forward with all the strength I could muster.

The cord slipped from my strangler’s fingers as I shouldered into one of the assassins in front of me. We crashed to the ground in a heap as the pen retracted into my sleeve again.

His fist lashed out toward my chin, but I parried, pushing it aside before slamming my fist into the underside of his jaw. He went limp as I rolled off him and scrambled to my feet. My throat felt raw, but I could breathe, which meant I could talk.

Time seemed to slow down around me as the assassin to my right raised a Taser toward me, and I knew that even if I dodged, I’d still have to contend with the last one. Worse, I had no idea how many more there could be in the casino.

That’s when the best idea in the world hit me.

I ducked as the Taser fired. The bolts smacked into the space where I’d been as the guy with the garrote lunged forward, trying to grab me. I heard him cry out in pain as I rolled to my feet and took off running toward Ronnie.

As I turned the corner, I found she had already finished making her deposit and was coming toward me, oblivious to the commotion. As my arms wrapped around the former Miss Tennessee, I threw my left hand out toward the knob of the service closet to my left and cried out, “The door breaks, causing us to fall into an escape waterslide.”

The moment my fingers touched the knob, the door hinges shattered, causing the motion to push the door outward. It fell, its massive weight pulling Ronnie and me through it. Only instead of crashing into a supply closet inside Emperor’s Palace, water surged up around us.

The shock of the sudden chill wrapped around me as we plunged into the darkness. We hit a sharp turn a second later, throwing me on top of Ronnie, and as I shifted our bodies to torpedo downward through the slide, so we wouldn’t be bounced around like ping pong balls, I heard more assassins jump into the slide.

Worse, I could see the exit coming up, and call me crazy, but I did not want to slam into a parking lot at this speed.

9

“The ground is a ball pit,” I cried out right before we crashed into what used to be cement. Only, instead, we plunged down into the ball pit as water washed over us, drenching me in a second. Balls flew up past me as we torpedoed down into the depths of the pit. I heard the first assassin crash into the ball pit a second later, and as he cried out in shock, I shut the water slide with a verbal command so that whoever had followed would crash into solid cement.

My feet touched the bottom of the ball pit a second later, and I wrapped one arm around Ronnie’s waist, dragging her toward the wall of the ball pit. The moment I reached the wall, I pressed my free hand to it.

“The secret door opens.” As I spoke the words, the wall in front of me shuddered before opening wide like the aperture of a camera. The force of the balls around me pushed us forward as I stepped through.

It wound up being more like riding a wave of colored plastic balls through it, but that was fine. As I landed on the ground outside amid a bunch of balls, I used a quick command to shut the door, causing the avalanche to immediately cut off.

As I stared back over my shoulder, I smirked.

“The ball pit’s door vanishes, and the bulletproof walls reach to the ceiling.” At the sound of my words, reality complied, and like magic, the ball pits walls stretched upward until they melded seamlessly with the roof above.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to face Ronnie who was doing a super good job of not freaking out, all things considered.

“What the hell just happened?” she asked, turning to look at the pit. “How the hell did you do that?”

“I know magic.” I took a deep breath. “Seriously.” She turned to look at me, but I waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t have time to go over it now.” I nodded toward the pit. “There will be more of them.”

“Okay.” She looked at me for a long time. “I’m going to trust you because the other option is to go insane.”

“It seems that way, huh?” I said, unable to hide a small smile. What just happened probably did seem insane. Not that it much mattered. Insane or not, it was time to get out of here.

Pulling out my pad and pen, I checked my notes and found the No other Pen Bearers can find me line was gone. It figured. Worse, as I tried to write myself a secret passage to my lair, I found it didn’t work either.

A few moments later, I found that pretty much all my lines affecting the building had evaporated. The ball pit remained, but it seemed that whoever was sending the goon squad had countered my ability. Well, that was frustrating, but not that big of a deal. After all, I had a secret entrance across town.

A few quick pen strokes later, I “found” the keys to the YZF-R1 sitting in a space a few meters away, its bright blue paint sparkling in the overhead lights above.

“So, what’s the plan?” Ronnie asked, moving toward me as I approached the bike. “I mean, I’m pretty sure we need to escape, but we came in a limo …”

“That’s why I’m taking this.” I smacked the seat of the Yamaha motorcycle. As her eyes flicked to the bike like she was seeing it for the first time, I grabbed the helmet off the side and handed it to her. “Ready?”

“Um … I hate motorcycles. There is no way I’m getting on that death trap.” She looked right at me. “Seriously.”

“It’ll be fun.” I shook the helmet at her.

“Do you know how many bad decisions start with ‘it’ll be fun?’” She smirked at me. “Nearly all of them.”

“Fair point, but I’m a really good driver, and I was hoping we could go get some new clothes. I’m worried my new friends might have bugged us.” I nodded to her as I got on the bike and pulled my own helmet on. “You can stay here if you like. I won’t force you to come.” I offered the helmet once more. “Last chance.”

“You’re making me do a ton of things I’d never do,” she said a moment later, and even though she didn’t look happy about it, she pulled the helmet down over her pretty blonde head before sliding on behind me.

“Yeah, I’m told I have that effect on people,” I said as she wrapped her arms around me, holding on tightly. “You don’t have to be scared.” The feel of her warmth pressed against my back sent a shiver of excitement racing through me, but as the ping of the pen making my words true filled my ears, I sighed.

Damn. I hadn’t meant to do that either, but there was nothing for it since I wasn’t about to use the pen to make her into a scaredy cat. Instead, I gunned the throttle and took off in a screech of rubber.

10

“Wooo!” Ronnie called behind me, excitement flooding into her voice as I whooshed around a line of cars at damned near a hundred miles an hour, my pen-enhanced skills giving me the reflexes of a world-class motocross champion. “This is so much fun!”

“I know, right?” I replied as I zig-zagged around a BMW that had definitely not been washed at all recently. “I love going fast.”

I gunned the throttle, sending us careening forward. I was in a bit of a good mood after I’d relayed the information to Marty and Skye over the phone. Both of them were working on it, and both had agreed with me. I shouldn’t return to the base just yet. After all, just because that asshole had said he knew where my base was, didn’t mean he actually did.

No. It was way more likely he was watching me and expecting me to retreat so he could follow me. Because of that, I was going to send him on a huge wild goose chase and get some new clothes while I was at it. Besides, part of me wanted to see what he would do when I didn’t tuck tail and run. Would he come at me or lay low?

“Normally, I’d be scared, but you just seem so good at it,” Ronnie replied, her breasts pressing into my back as she gripped me tighter. “I want to just ride around forever.”

“You say that now, but trust me, I have way more fun in store for us,” I said as I made a hard left toward a store I’d only recently learned about from Skye. A store known only for one thing: how expensive it was.

“I can’t imagine anything better than this,” Ronnie said as I tore past a semi-truck, giving us a wide expanse of empty road. Then I really cut loose, driving the bike as hard as it would go. “Oh my god, I stand corrected.”

I could barely make out her words over the whistle of wind whipping past me, but that was fine. I had the feel of a beautiful woman pressed against me and a ton of open road. There was just one problem. We were already near our destination, and as much as I wanted to keep going, I was wary of going too far from my base.

Reluctantly, I turned off the road, and back into Las Vegas itself.

“Aww,” Ronnie said as we got onto a little, nondescript street. “Are we done so soon?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to be out here. People might have tracked us,” I said as I came to a stop in front of a storefront that looked like it’d seen better days. Its windows were boarded up, and the canopy over the entrance was sun-bleached and faded to the point I couldn’t really tell what the original color had been.

“How would they do that?” Ronnie asked as we got off the bike. I pulled a large sheet from my pocket that I then tossed over the motorcycle. To be honest, I wasn’t sure why I had done it, but it just seemed like I should hide the thing.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they watched us escape with a satellite.” I waved my hand. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we need to get some new clothes.”

Even as I said the words, I felt a little dumb because I could just make her new clothes with my pen, but it wasn’t quite the same. I’d only dealt with a tailor once, but even that one time had been enough to let me know it made you feel awesome. After everything that had happened, I not only wanted to feel awesome, I wanted Ronnie to feel awesome. After all, what good was unlimited power if you couldn’t do stupid things just ‘cause you wanted to do them?

“So, can’t they just see us enter here?” she asked, glancing at the sheet-covered motorcycle, and as she spoke, I was glad I’d made her a bit more accepting of the situation. Part of me hadn’t wanted to do it, but most of me hadn’t wanted to keep erasing every little thing that came up. That’d get old fast.

Sure, I knew I could also just leave her behind, but that might put her in harm’s way. After all, Wayne had gone after pretty much everyone I was remotely close to. I wouldn’t let that happen again.

“That’s why we came here.” I pulled a key from my pocket as I moved to the battered metal security door. “This is what I like to call a secret.”

As the key slid into the lock, there was a buzzing sound from inside as the imaging software scanned me. The door pinged as the electronic locks disengaged, and a moment later, it slid into the wall with a hiss of compressed air, revealing an empty room with a similar door in the floor.

“Where does that go?” Ronnie asked, following me inside as I pocketed the key.

A moment later, the door slid shut behind her, locking us inside. Then the lights began to flash, letting me know they were performing a secondary scan. Should they find me not to be, well, me, nerve gas would fill the room.

“It goes to a secret tunnel that leads to the best store in Las Vegas.” I nodded to it.

“You have a secret room with a secret tunnel that leads to a store?” she asked as the lights flashed green, letting me know I had the all clear.

“I do now.” I smiled at her as I knelt beside the door on the floor and pressed both hands to the reader beside it. The glowed with soft red light for a moment before turning green. A ping filled the air as a flat panel on the door slid open to reveal a keyhole.

“You know,” Ronnie said as I put key to lock once more, “normally, I’d care a lot more about how you can do all this stuff, but I just don’t.” She gave me a confused look. “It’s a bit weird, honestly because while part of me does want to know, I just …” She waved a dismissive hand.

“Oh?” I said as the door slid open to reveal an escalator that led downward because there was no way I was climbing down a mile of stairs.

“Yeah, my ex used to complain about me asking tons of questions …” she trailed off as I offered her my hand.

“Ah.” I smiled at her as she took my hand and we stepped on the escalator. “Well, to answer your question, I told you before. I know magic.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s true.” I shrugged as the door above closed. “Remove the door above.”

“Remove the door above?” Ronnie asked, looking at me strangely as the door overhead melded back into the nearly impenetrable steel floor. “What do you mean?” She craned her head back looking upward.

“I used magic to get rid of the door, so if they find us, they won’t be able to get through.” I shrugged. “They might not have been able to otherwise, but why take chances.”

“The people after you sound like they’re pretty dangerous.” Ronnie took a step closer to me.

“They do, but they’re old and complacent.” I nodded at her.

It was true. One of the main reasons I’d been able to take down Wayne was because he’d been too sure he’d win. I wasn’t sure what this new threat could do, but I was willing to make myself bait to find out more about him. It was risky, but as it stood, even with Skye and Marty scanning everything for him, we had next to no leads, and Agent Smith’s line had gone directly to voicemail.

“Holy fuck, is that a 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO?” Ronnie asked, snapping my attention back to the present. We had reached the bottom, the floor opening up to reveal a fleet of cars and a long stretch of underground highway.

“No,” I said, shaking my head as I began moving toward the Ferrari. “It’s two 1962 Ferrari 250 GTOs. Three hundred and two horsepower. Does zero to sixty in five point four seconds with a top speed of one hundred seventy-four miles per hour.” I nodded to the left one. “I made yours pink.”

“You made mine pink?” she asked, looking at me like I was insane.

“Yes.” I smirked as I got into the right Ferrari. “How else are we going to race if you don’t have one?”

“That’s a thirty-eight-million-dollar car.” She stood a few feet away, mouth hanging open.

“I have a lot of nice things, just not a lot of liquid cash.” I started the car, causing the engine to roar like a savage beast. “And it’s hard to fly a helicopter underground. I mean, I can do it, but it’s way less fun.”

“Who are you?” she asked, finally getting in the pink Ferrari. “And what happens if I crash?” She frowned at the car. “I don’t even know how to drive this.”

“Just try. I have a feeling you know how to do more than you think.” With that, I took off, ripping down the highway.

11

“That was fucking amazing,” Ronnie said, grinning from ear to ear as we parked the Ferraris below the escalator at the far end of the tunnel.

“I know, right?” I said, unable to help myself from smiling too. I’d almost forgotten how much fun using the pen could be, and as I took Ronnie’s hand in mine and made my way toward the exit, I felt more fulfilled than I had in a long time. It was strange. Until I’d stepped out of my base, I hadn’t realized how long I’d been cooped up inside.

Now though? Now, I had a new challenge to overcome. I knew part of me should have been upset or worried, but I just wasn’t. No, I was excited for my team to tell me they’d found something. Then I’d make sure the son of a bitch from the casino was in the ground.

“Seriously. I knew being rich was awesome, but I had no idea it was this awesome.” She winked at me as we got on the escalator. “It’s like nothing even matters.”

“Things matter, but magic makes a lot of stuff go away.” Even as I said the words, I felt myself unconsciously slipping the pen in my hand so I could feel the contours of it. The pen had changed my life, and now someone was after it. Well, they’d find it harder to take than they expected. Especially if they decided to take the bait and come after me again.

“Well, I definitely need to learn some magic then,” Ronnie giggled as we stepped through the exit at the top of the escalator.

“Maybe I’ll teach you one day, but be warned, a magician never reveals his secrets,” I replied with a shrug as I used my pen to make the cars, escalators, and the tunnel itself vanish back into thin air.

Ronnie opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but instead just stopped, her mouth falling open as she caught sight of the building in front of us. Her gaze roamed over the super-expensive, super-exclusive boutique, and I smiled. It was the kind of place that wouldn’t have let me in before I got my pen, but now? Now this place was my bitch. Or it would be anyway since I’d never actually been here before.

“Is that Le Château de Tissu Extraordinaire?” she said, pronouncing the French far more correctly than I could have. “I know you said we were going somewhere nice but this …?”

“I hear they have nice stuff here, and I’m rich. I keep hearing how awesome this place is, and, well, you needed some new clothes, right?” I said, smirking at her. “Besides, this has been one of the most fun days I’ve had in a while despite the attacks, or maybe because of them. I’m not sure, really.”

“If you say so …” She looked at me for a long moment as she intertwined one hand with mine and moved a bit closer to me. “I knew they’d opened that second store in New York after opening the original in Chicago, but to think there was one in Vegas …”

“Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “I really only know about it because my friend said she’d been here a few times. I think she said they have an entire room dedicated just to lace.”

“How can they possibly have a whole room dedicated to lace?” she asked as we moved toward the door.

I pushed it open to reveal a room not much larger than the entrance. Even still, it was nice. No. Beyond nice, what with the marble floors, Greek-style columns, and decorative art on the wall behind the front desk. A pretty, pint-sized pixie of a clerk with spiked blue hair sat in front of a locked door, and as the bells above the entrance us jingled, she looked up from her magazine and smiled at us happily.

“Hello, do you have an appointment?” she asked, putting her magazine down on the blue granite desk and moving to the computer on her desk. “If you do, just give me your name, and I’ll be happy to assist you.”

“We actually don’t have an appointment,” I said with a shrug.

The girl stiffened noticeably, and her smile faltered for a second. “We aren’t taking any walk-ins right now, sorry.” She gave me a once over. “If you’d like to make an appointment, I’ll be happy to help you with that, provided you have the five-thousand-dollar reservation fee …” She waited, no doubt expecting me to balk and walk away.

“I want to go inside,” I said, now annoyed. I knew I could magic my way inside, hell, I could probably use my pen to give myself an appointment, but something about her not just letting me inside angered me, and not just because I had Ronnie with me, though that was part of it. No. It was more that she expected me to balk at the reservation fee. That was it.

Releasing Ronnie’s hand, I strode up to the counter with a pleased smile on my face. “Look, my friend here would like to pick out some new clothes, and I’d like a new suit.”

“As I said, sir—”

I cut her off by slapping twenty grand down on the desk between us.

“This is twenty thousand dollars in cash.” I pushed it toward her before pulling out a second bundle. “This is another twenty thousand.” I grinned as I tossed it onto the desk next to the first one. “Both of them are pretty sure you’ll let me in.”

As I spoke, her eyes went wide, and she swallowed hard. Then she shifted her gaze to me, eyes suddenly bright and helpful.

“So, how can I help you?” she asked in a voice full of bubbly enthusiasm. Her eyes darted from the cash to Ronnie before settling on me.

“I need a new suit. Something nice,” I said before reaching back to take Ronnie’s hand and pull her toward us. “Also, something for Ronnie.” She nodded at me, and as Ronnie beamed at me like she’d just won the fucking lottery, I turned back to the girl at the counter. “And get something for yourself too.” I waved a hand at her. “Whatever you like.”

“Right away, sir,” she said, a broad smile on her face as she leaped to her feet and swiped a keycard across a panel by the door before opening it and gesturing inside. “Our custom tailors are just through here.”

An hour later, I’d been primped, pruned, and stuffed into a crisp white button up, an imported red silk tie, and pants that cost more than a small house. I looked awesome, especially with my custom-tailored suit jacket, and better still, it felt nice to be wearing real clothes over the bodysuit.

Besides, it wasn’t like the cost mattered to me in the slightest because, well, magic. I could just write paid in full on the bill and be done with it. Better still, I’d gotten to shower and shave. I don’t want to go into it much, but there was nothing quite like having a professional shave you.

Unfortunately, I was left with two problems. One, Ronnie wasn’t quite ready yet, and two, no one from the evil pen bearer’s team had found me yet. I mean, okay, I wasn’t exactly inclined to go outside and give them another crack at me, but they should have found me by now… maybe the guy’s surveillance wasn’t as good as he thought it was?

I was half-inclined to find out, but either way, as soon as Ronnie was done getting dressed, I was going back to my base. That left me with a bit of time to kill, and after a quick call to Marty, who had assured me they were following up on leads, I found myself sitting in a quaint little speakeasy-style bar inside Le Château de Tissu Extraordinaire.

I glanced up from my old fashioned and smiled at the busty brunette standing behind the bar. She was dressed like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and even though she had a way better body than Audrey ever had, I wasn’t going to fault her for being off on that particular detail.

“So, why is there a bar here?” I asked, nodding over my shoulder back toward the rooms full of lace, dresses, and makeup. “I mean, you even have cigars.”

“Some of our patrons prefer to let their,” she paused, giving me a brilliant smile before making air quotes, “‘companions’ shop while they explore other activities.” She leaned forward on the bar, revealing a ridiculous amount of cleavage, and pursed her ruby red lips. “Are there other activities you wish to explore?” She licked her lips. “Because everything is on the table.”

My heart started racing as I stared at her. As much as I hated to admit it, I let a couple possibilities play through my mind.

“Is that so?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her as I took another sip of my drink. It was just this side of perfect.

“Yes,” she purred, looking me over. “You are in a bar inside a store that obviously caters to a very exclusive and discerning clientele … and we like to keep our clients happy.”

“Great.” I nodded to her. “Get me another drink?” I popped the brandied cherry into my mouth, and as I chewed, I realized it was one of the best cherries I’d ever had. Then again, it was the only brandied cherry I’d ever had. Well, that was definitely going to change.

“Sure,” she said, giving me a devilish smile before turning to make my drink. Watching her do it was just this side of amazing. Hell, seeing her shake her ass while slowly muddling a bitters-soaked sugar cube nearly gave me a hard-on.

“Wanna trade?” she asked as I finished my drink and pushed it across the bar. Audrey held out my fresh one, making me think she’d timed it to when she thought I’d finish.

“That would be almost as lovely as you,” I said, taking the drink from her.

“Do you like it?” Her cheeks flushed as I took a sip. Hot damn. It was even better than the first one.

“Sure do.” I smiled as the whiskey melted across my tongue. “I may need to steal you away from here.”

“Well, part of it was the whiskey,” she said, gesturing at the whiskeys displayed behind her, and it must have been apparent I didn’t know anything about them because she elaborated after a moment of silence. “The one you’re drinking now costs a hundred bucks a shot.” She flashed her dentists’ wet dream of a smile at me. “And it’s not even the best thing in here.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s the best thing back there?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” She leaned forward across the bar, her eyes meeting mine as she casually unbuttoned the top button on her blouse. “Me, of course.”

“And do you like giving blowjobs?” I replied as she removed another button.

“I do,” she said, licking her lips in one slow, sensual movement. “It’s one of my most favorite things.”

“And do you want to give me a blowjob?”

“Yes.” She looked me up and down. “Most definitely.”

“Well, ring me up then,” I said, finishing my drink.

“Oh, you misunderstand,” she said, coming around the bar.

“I do?” I asked, suddenly a bit confused.

“Yes.” She put her hand on my leg and slowly slid it up my pants. “You don’t have to pay for me.” She dropped to her knees in front of me. “I value you as a customer and want you to be happy.”

12

“I think your friend might be ready for you,” Audrey said after hanging up the phone. “Do you want to go see what she wants, or should I have someone bring her here?” She handed me a new drink.

“Let me finish my drink, and I’ll go,” I said, taking a sip, and like the one she’d made for me after finishing up with our other activities, it was ten kinds of perfect. “Say, is there a way to leave you a tip?”

“No.” She smiled brightly at me. “A tip isn’t necessary. I’m well taken care of, but it’s sweet that you’d ask. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“I think I’m good. Do you know where Ronnie is, by the way?” I took another sip of my drink, letting the whiskey roll over my tongue and savoring it. Damn, she was good. This was art. Better than art. This was a fucking masterpiece, and before I knew it, I’d downed a third of it.

“She’s in the leather room. That’s one of the best rooms here.” Audrey gave me a sly smile as she began mixing a new one, though I wasn’t sure who it was for.

“Is that so?” I asked, no clue what they sold in the leather room. Admittedly, I was feeling a bit put off because there were a ton of rooms for women, and only a couple for men and they all just contained suits. That said, my new suit was fucking amazing. I’d have to take Marty and the girls here. They’d love it.

“Oh yes. If she’s there, you should hurry. I bet she looks great.” Audrey winked at me and made a shooing gesture before knocking back a sip of the drink she’d made. Then she met my eyes and put a finger to her lips. “You won’t tell, right?”

“Nope. Drink all you want.” I looked at my drink. It was still half full. “Say, can I take this outside?”

“Outside, outside? No.” She frowned. “But into the rest of the store? Sure.” She glanced from my face to the glass. “Actually …” She tapped her chin in thought. “Maybe I could put it in one of those to-go coffee cups?”

“I just meant out into the store.” I smiled at her and clinked the air in front of myself with it. “There is no way this will last long enough to even get outside. You’re truly a master of … many talents.”

“Thanks.” She looked me up and down. “It’s always nice when someone appreciates my skills.”

I laughed as I made my way to the speakeasy’s exit. I definitely appreciated Audrey’s skills, and before I could stop myself, I glanced over my shoulder. “Hey, if you ever find yourself needing a job. I would love to have you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, and as she waved at me, I got the impression she meant it. That was good because when this whole pen bearer business was over, and that asshole was locked firmly in a dungeon somewhere, I was definitely going to talk to Skye about onboarding her. After all, every evil lair needed a solid bartender.

“My life is crazy,” I said, shaking my head as I moved into the lace room. It was huge, easily the size of my old apartment, and even though it had twenty-foot ceilings, it somehow managed to fill two of the walls from floor to ceiling with ball gowns. The third wall was all lingerie, and I found myself taking mental snapshots of each outfit as I passed by more lace than I knew existed in the entire world.

“Yeah, I definitely need to take the girls here,” I said to myself, pausing to look at a black lace number that I just knew would really look great against Maggie’s pale skin. “Definitely.”

Making a mental note to buy the piece when I checked out, I made my way toward the leather room. Only, I didn’t see Ronnie anywhere. Like the lace room, it was floor to ceiling with leather dresses, pants, and tops, with one wall reserved for some very kinky seeming lingerie. Stuff I just knew Miss Montgomery would love.

That said, there was no Ronnie to be found. Frowning, I gave the room one last once-over before calling out. “Ronnie, are you here?”

“Roger, is that you?” I heard her muffled response from my right, and as I turned, I found myself staring at the row of changing rooms along the wall, each one cordoned off with red curtains.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, heading toward them. “They said you needed me?”

“I, um, wanted to show you something.” The curtain to the room in the center ruffled and then she stuck her head out, and let me just say, she hadn’t skimped on the hair and makeup.

I swallowed hard. I’d known she was a former Miss Tennessee, but hot damn did she clean up nice under the care of professionals.

“Can you tell me if I look okay in this outfit?” Her cheeks flushed. “I’ve not worn anything like this in a long time.”

“Sure. Although, I’m sure you look amazing because it’s, well, you.” I smiled at her, and she blushed again. “Come out here, and I’ll give you my honest opinion.”

“I’m a little embarrassed.” Her gaze swept around the room. “I know there’s no one out there, but maybe you could maybe come in here?”

“Right, um, sure.” I drained my drink and set it down on a table filled with hand mirrors. They seemed a touch excessive since the walls had more than a few mirrors, but then again, I wasn’t a girl. Maybe they needed to see the outfits from other angles?

“Good.” She ducked back behind the curtain, pulling it open just enough for me to enter as I approached.

Only, as I slipped past the curtain, I found Ronnie standing there wearing only her birthday suit. Her hard nipples jutted through the air as my eyes roamed over the voluptuous curves of her body.

“Well, I have to say, I really like this outfit—”

The rest of my words were cut off as she put my hands on her breasts and pressed her mouth to mine.

13

“Perfect,” I said, making a little twirling motion with my fingers as Ronnie emerged wearing a red tank top under a thin black jacket that was little more than a pair of long sleeves. A red skirt with painted hearts was cinched around her waist with a large black ribbon almost making her look like a hip K-pop star only, well, not Korean.

“Really? You think so,” she said, biting her lip. “You don’t think I’m ten years too old to pull this off?”

“Not at all,” I said, moving next to her and putting one hand on her waist, intertwining the other into her fingers. “I think you look perfect.”

“If you say so—” I cut off her words by shifting my weight. Sending her into a spin that caused her skirt to flutter around her legs, I reeled her in so my chest was pressed to her back.

“Trust me,” I said, leaning in to kiss her neck. “You look amazing.”

“I believe you.” Her breath was warm against my cheek as she gazed back at me and wiggled her butt. I could feel the heat of her perfect body pressed against me, and as my hand on her waist started to move up her stomach, I heard a cough to my left.

Color rose on Ronnie’s cheeks as I looked to my left and found the blue-haired girl from the entrance watching us with a bemused expression on her face. “Will you be needing anything else, sir?”

“A few more minutes,” I said, glancing at Ronnie who stood there, cheeks flushed, though that didn’t stop her from wiggling her butt against me. She just tried to be subtle about it. “Oh, and there’s some other stuff I want you to have wrapped up for me.”

“Excellent, sir. I’ll be at the front if you need me.” With that, she spun on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

“Well, where were we?” Ronnie said, spinning on my arms and pressing her lips to mine again.

The tear gas canister rolled into the room so suddenly that by the time I realized what was happening, it was already filling the room. Moving as quickly as I could, I pulled us behind one of the solid marble cubes holding up the mannequins throughout the room. As my eyes began to burn from the gas, gunfire ripped into the wall behind where we’d been, shredding the dresses and sending bits of leather and debris raining down on top of us. Bullets pinged off the surface of the stone while Ronnie cried out in shock and panic, but that was okay. I could take care of this.

Only, I could barely see as the tear gas assaulted my senses while Ronnie cried out next to me. Worse, my throat burned, and as I tried to take a deep breath to speak a voice command, I realized I was an idiot.

Tear gas burned down my throat like molten lead as I tried to control my anger. I could hear people starting to move into the room. If I stayed here, they would get to me, and then I’d be forced to fight them blind as a bat and unable to use my voice commands.

Still, I could handle it. Hell, I’d handled worse. Flicking my wrist, the pen slid from the bodysuit beneath my clothing and into my hand, and I wrote a quick line to get us out of here.

A trap door opens beneath us.

As I watched the line solidify into truth through blurry eyes and the floor started to give way, I wrote another line.

The mannequins are robots that attack our pursuers.

Then we were falling.

We slammed into a pile of boxes in the storage room beneath the leather room, breaking our fall, but just barely. I lay there for a moment, body hurt but not broken as I tried to remember what it was like to breathe without the air tasting like fire.

Forcing myself to think, I gripped my pen and wrote a new line.

I’m healed from the effects of the tear gas.

As the effects immediately dissipated, I followed it up with a new line.

The trap door vanishes.

Overhead, the path down here sealed off, but I knew it was only temporary. They’d be coming down here already, and I had no way of knowing how many of them it would be. Worse, Ronnie was still hurt, but at least I was fighting strong again.

“The fire sprinklers open up, dousing Ronnie with enough water to wash away the tear gas,” I said as I crept toward the door.

Overhead, the fire sprinklers let loose, raining down on Ronnie, but I ignored it because I was too busy grabbing hold of the barrel of the M16 that poked through the doorway on the far side of the room. I jerked it hard, sending the user stumbling into the room before slamming my elbow into the side of his ballistic helmet.

Pain ran down my arm as the person stumbled sideways under the force of the blow, leaving the M16 in my hands. Flipping it around, I pointed it at the person.

“Who do you work for?” I cried as my attacker shook his head, trying to reorient himself after the blow. “Tell me, or I’ll blow you the fuck away.”

“It doesn’t much matter what he tells you,” a voice to my left growled. As I turned my head, I saw a huge black man with a Mohawk on his head, a cigar between his teeth, and a gold chain around his neck eye me like I was a Christmas ham.

Then, before I could say anything, he pointed his .50 Desert Eagle at my chest and pulled the trigger.

14

The bullet slammed into my chest with the force of a wrecking ball, sending me sprawling backward. I hit the ground hard on my shoulders, my chest aching like never before. My vision went a bit blurry, and as I lay there trying to remember what it felt like to breathe, my hands went instinctively to where the wound should have been, but instead of finding my blood spurting into the air, I found something quite different.

The bullet was lodged in the jumpsuit I was wearing beneath my clothes, and as my fingers brushed against it, the hunk of flattened metal dislodged from my chest and hit the ground beside me with a clink.

The bodysuit had saved me.

Hot damn.

“Neat trick,” the Mr. T reject snarled, pointing his gun at me again as more soldiers joined him in the stairwell. “What happens if I shoot you in the head?”

“It’ll be hard to find out since your gun is empty,” I grunted, but instead of hearing the ping that let me know the pen had done its job, I heard only his laughter.

“Yeah, I dunno what you’re trying to do, but your pen won’t work on me.” He fired, and I somehow managed to get my arms up in time. The bullet slammed into my forearm hard enough to make me smack myself in the face, but it did little more. The bullet simply plopped uselessly to the ground even though the kinetic force behind a large round was more than enough to shatter bone and dislocate limbs even with the best body armor on the market. Cami had truly outdone herself, and I made a mental note to thank her as I scrambled to my feet.

Still, it was time to focus. If my pen wasn’t going to work on him directly, well, that meant two things. One, this asshole worked for a pen bearer, and two, I’d just have to improvise.

The gorilla fired again, and the bullet caught me in the shoulder. Only, instead of resisting, I let the momentum spin me around. I hit the ground hard behind a pile of boxes as I mouthed a voice command.

“The entire stairwell is filled to the brim with angry fire ants.”

A scream of pain filled my ears, followed by gunshots that were aimed at everywhere but at me. As bullets slammed into the walls of the stairwell, I leaped to my feet in time to see several men writhing under the onslaught of so many fire ants, I couldn’t even make out their details beneath the mass of insects.

Unfortunately, Mr. T had somehow escaped the stairwell, and while he had a few ants clinging to him, he’d leaped under the fire sprinklers I’d used to wash off Ronnie. Worse, he had his gun pointed at the former Miss Tennessee.

“So, here’s how it’s gonna be, Pen Bearer,” he snapped as he shoved the barrel of the weapon into her side while clamping his other hand over her mouth and pulling her flush against him like a human shield. “You’re going to do exactly what I say, and if you try that again, I’ll wax your girl.” He gave me a huge grin that flashed white teeth the size of quarters.

“Right.” I glared at him, letting him think he’d won. “I won’t write anything else. Just let her go.”

“No, can do.” He nodded to me. “Lay on your stomach and put your hands flat on the back of your head. You make even one move toward your pen, and I’ll kill her. Understand?”

“Yeah,” I said, doing as he asked. I dropped to the floor and lay on my belly before putting my hands against my head.

And, like I’d expected, the moment I’d complied, he marched Ronnie toward me, one hand holding a gleaming pair of handcuffs.

“I’m gonna handcuff you now.” He put his knee on my back while keeping the gun pointed at Ronnie, then proceeded to handcuff me. “Not so tough now, are you?” he asked, pulling me to my feet, and turning me toward the ant-covered stairwell. He paused a moment. “Guess we’ll wait for that to die down.”

Instead of responding, I stomped hard on his foot. As my heel came down on his toes, he cried out in pain and buckled forward, which was unfortunate because I was swinging my head backward. My nose connected sharply with the bridge of his nose, causing him to stumble backward.

Blood streamed down his face as Ronnie tore free of his grip. Perfect.

“The boxes are hot lava,” I said as I whirled around, driving my heel into his knee. His leg buckled, splitting like kindling under his weight and causing him to topple sideways into a bunch of boxes.

Or what had been boxes only a moment before. Instead, he hit a giant vat of lava, and let me just say, it stunk. A lot.

Ronnie’s screams brought me back to the present, and as I turned toward her, I used another command to break my handcuffs, causing them to fall to the ground in twisted metal chunks.

“What just happened?” she asked, looked at me wide-eyed as I came toward her. “Did you kill him?”

“Yes.” I nodded to her as I reached for her hand. “And now we have to leave.”

“I hadn’t seen you actually kill someone…” She took my hand, and I moved toward the far wall.

“Yeah, I try not to do that.” I glanced back at the smoking corpse of Mr. T and frowned. “Especially because I’d much rather have used him for information.”

“Oh.” Ronnie swallowed hard, trying to be brave. “What do we do?”

“You get the M16 hidden in the cache of weapons behind the secret door on the far wall and shoot anyone else who tries to stop us.” The sound of it becoming true filled my ears as I moved to the far wall. “I can’t do it because I’ll be driving the YZF-R1.”

“I don’t know how to use a gun…” Ronnie looked at me as I pressed my hand to the new door, causing it to open and reveal a small pile of weapons. “And I thought you left the YZF-R1 all the way back on the other side of the tunnel.”

“Yes, you do. You’re a master of weaponry, a great shot, and fearless because you have the equivalent of a decade of special forces training.” Her demeanor shifted as the sound of truth pinged in my ears. Then she nodded.

“Right. I’ll shoot. You drive?” She gestured at me as my pen slipped into my hand, and I used it to write a few things because, at least for me, it was a lot easier to write out what I wanted than speak it. “Where’s the bike?”

“The YZF-R1 is in the tunnel that leads us straight back to the base.” I pulled the door open, revealing the bike and the tunnel. It was time to get out of here. Bait or not, this wasn’t the way to get information. Not when it put Ronnie in danger anyway. “Now let’s go.”

15

As Ronnie climbed on the back of the silver Yamaha YZF-R1, the sound of boots coming down the stairs filled my ears. There was a burst of heat behind me, and a quick glance over my shoulder revealed a bunch of thugs with flamethrowers burning their way through the ants.

The crazy thing was, I’d have expected the walls to catch fire, but the fire seemed to roll harmlessly across it.

“Shoot them.” I took off, twisting the throttle and tearing down the tunnel as quickly as I could.

“On it,” Ronnie replied, unleashing a spray of bullets with her M16. The sound of the gunfire in the enclosed space nearly blew out my eardrums, but I ignored it, concentrating on getting as far away as possible.

“Seal off the door to the tunnel,” I said under my breath, but unfortunately there was no ping in my ear to tell me it’d worked, and a look over my shoulder confirmed my suspicion. The tunnel remained open. Well, that was annoying, but also not a total loss. After all, where there were thugs, there would be people with information.

Soldiers flooded into the entrance, already firing at us. I dodged and weaved as bullets ripped into the walls, floor, and ceiling around us, and while Ronnie was doing a good job returning fire, they didn’t seem particularly perturbed by it.

“The automated defenses attack,” I said, wishing I’d made the tunnel wide enough for a tank.

Again, there was no ping, nor did the automated defenses come to life. Dammit.

That’s when I heard the sound of motorcycles behind me.

“We’ve got incoming,” Ronnie growled, her M16 going empty as she finished off the magazine. Her other hand was already moving, sweeping a new one into place as she dropped the old one before firing again. “The bullets keep bouncing off them.”

“What?” I asked, and I turned in time to see her shots bounce off the lead soldier’s facemask before ricocheting into the hallway. “Oh.”

So, they had body armor. That was fine though. I could deal with that.

“What do you want me to do?” Ronnie asked, leaning in close to me and trying to make herself as small as possible. “I’m almost out of ammo.”

“Use the grenades we picked up earlier,” I replied, and as she reached into the satchel, she cursed.

“Fuck. It’s empty.” She rummaged around a bit more. “Where did they go?”

“Into the ether from whence they came,” I growled, and as the words left my lips, the bike we were riding on vanished. Which was bad for a number of reasons, least of which that we were going damned near a hundred miles an hour.

“We survive the fall unharmed,” I cried and thanked the Lord above when it worked. Miraculously, I hit the ground in a roll, that sent me tumbling forward across the tunnel, and as I came to my feet completely unscathed, I saw Ronnie standing a couple feet in front of me, no worse for wear.

“How the hell did we survive that,” she said as she dropped to one knee and took aim at the oncoming motorcycles with her M16.

“Shoot the wheels,” I said, and she must have heard me because her next burst shredded the tires of the lead rider.

As the wheel exploded into bits of rubber and twisted steel, the bike cartwheeled, flipping over and crushing the driver against the ground as it tumbled across the ground. A second later, the next rider slammed into it. The nose of his bike dropped as the back end rose violently off the ground, sending the guy spinning through the air. He hit the metal floor a few feet away with a resounding smack and lay there unmoving.

Unfortunately, the other three riders avoided the wreckage, somehow managing to swerve around the debris.

“Down,” I cried, grabbing Ronnie and throwing her to the side as a line of gunfire erupted from the leader. Bullets tore into the space we’d occupied only a second before as they rushed toward us.

Ronnie tried to take aim once more, but as she did, her gun vanished, leaving her empty-handed as the three men came toward us.

“What is going on?” she cried as I pulled myself to my feet.

“He’s thwarting my magic somehow,” I snapped, one hand going for my holster and finding it no longer existed. “Everything I’ve created is vanishing. I’m not sure how that’s possible, but…”

“Didn’t you make this tunnel?” Ronnie asked, swallowing hard as another burst of bullets ripped through the air. They’d missed but only because they were far away still. In another second or so, that wouldn’t be the case.

“Yes,” I said, and while I was worried it might evaporate and leave me stranded in the Las Vegas soil, I decided not to focus on that. If it happened now, there’d be nothing I could do, but these guys? I could deal with them.

“There’s a passageway under the floor that leads to my base,” I whispered.

As I spoke, I grabbed hold of the handle beside my feet and pulled. The metal doorway slid up easily enough, revealing a small tunnel. Bullets pinged off the stretch of floor turned tunnel lid, but I ignored it as I shoved Ronnie inside and followed her.

Only as I went to pull the lid down, it vanished.

“Fuck!” I cried, dropping down as bullets zinged over my head.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ronnie gave me a ‘please don’t get me killed’ look. “What do you want me to do?”

“Head toward the base,” I said, pointing down the tunnel, immediately thankful it hadn’t vanished completely. “I’m gonna take care of these guys.”

“How?” Ronnie asked, already moving to follow my orders.

“With my pen.” Already I could hear the bikes approaching, but that was fine. I wasn’t sure how the person knew what things I’d created, but I had a theory, and it was time to test it out.

My pen slid into one hand while my trusty notepad filled the other.

A steel door rises from the ground just ahead of this hidey hole, sealing off the tunnel.

The words stayed on the page. Or at least they did until I heard the door spring into view. Then the line evaporated, and with it, so did the door. Still, as I heard the soldiers approaching, I had to smile.

I wasn’t sure how he was cancelling my moves, but I was pretty sure about one thing. Whoever was after me had been listening to my voice commands and using them to thwart me. But when I wrote them, well, he had to wait until they happened to do that.

The tunnel is filled with claymores.

The moment I finished writing, the resulting explosion threw me from my feet, and even though my ears were ringing from the blast, I couldn’t help but laugh. I’d figured it out.

“Are you okay?” Ronnie asked, coming toward me as I scribbled out the line that had created the original tunnel, causing it to turn back into earth and sealing us in the tiny passage.

“Yeah,” I replied as she helped me to my feet. “But we need to get back to the base. Something tells me my people are in a lot of trouble.”

16

It only took a half hour or so to make our way down the tunnel back to my base, and while I could have used my pen to speed things up, I was wary of doing so because I didn’t want to give the other pen bearer a way to take me down.

I wasn’t quite sure what his or her pen could do, but it definitely seemed like straight up negating my powers was on the table. It was weird because while Wayne had been able to counter my powers with his pen, he had needed to pre-emptively do it. This was the opposite, almost like once I did something it could be negated and that made me wary. Not scared, but wary.

So, that’s why we had walked. That was also why I was unarmed. The last thing I wanted to do was charge in with a gun and have it vanish at a pivotal moment. Besides, it wasn’t like I really needed a weapon. I was a weapon.

“We’re almost there,” I said, holding my hand out to stop Ronnie’s advance as she crept along behind me, covering my six. “Once we get out there, if there are any bad guys, let me take them down. Then I’ll get weapons from my cache and hand them to you to give me cover.”

“I appreciate you going first.” She bit her lip as she approached the door that led to the throne room in my base. “But why are you doing that?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, putting my hand on the panel on the wall. I was glad Marty had thought to put a permanent door here. Since we didn’t know if I’d need to make a quick entrance or exit, we’d put an honest to god door in the throne room for me to connect to via pen created tunnels. That way everyone would know where to go to get back in or out.

“I don’t have magic.” She gestured at me. “You obviously do …”

“Chances are good that my people are behind that door and I don’t want them to shoot you.” I glanced at her. “Also, I’m a gentleman and wearing bulletproof armor.”

“You should have just gone with gentleman.” She tried to smile at me, but her gaze was fixated on the door. “Um …” She pointed at it. “Is it supposed to be red?”

“What?” I asked, turning back toward it and finding she was right. Only, it shouldn’t have been red. It should have been green. Why the hell wasn’t it turning green?

“Fuck it,” I muttered, glaring at the door. Then, careful to keep my voice down, I mouthed a few words. “The door opens.”

The door slid open, and I immediately realized why it hadn’t worked. The entire room was just fucking gone. Well, okay, that wasn’t quite true. Parts of the room were gone, but not all. For one, everything I hadn’t created with the pen was still there.

Not much else remained though. Instead, there was just a massive fucking hole in the earth filled with various bits of machinery.

I swallowed hard as I stared at it.

Someone had negated my base.

My eyes went wide as my notepad sprang into my hand. Flipping through the pages, I found what I was looking for. Several of the notes I used to create the base were covered in what looked like pink highlighter, and as I looked out at the room, I realized that it corresponded to what had been negated. How the fuck was that possible?

Part of me wanted to freak out because I didn’t know how it had happened, but at the same time, I couldn’t. I had no idea what had happened to my people, and that thought made me pissed.

Worse, if I wrote anything at all, it might give me away. No. I needed to do this calmly and carefully.

Leaping down from the doorway, I landed hard on the muddy floor of what had once been my throne room. I wasn’t sure why the place still seemed to be excavated, probably because there were bits and pieces of real stuff everywhere, but I wasn’t going to argue with it. Instead, I focused on making my way across the room as quietly as possible. As I approached the far hallway, Ronnie jumped down and crept toward me.

I ignored her as I moved to what had once been a doorway. Peeking my head out, I saw that like my throne room, the hallway had been reduced to a muddy tunnel in the dirt. There was also a corpse in the center dressed in body armor I didn’t recognize. Blood leaked from a hole in his head where his face should have been, and as I stared at him, I wondered if I was on to something about the negation.

Maybe the other pen bearer couldn’t destroy things that weren’t expressly created by the pen? Maybe that was why the excavated dirt was still missing? Otherwise, why would this guy have come in here after the room had been erased? The whole room just shouldn’t have existed. Neither should the one to my left, but both were there. Sure, they were completely devoid of anything save dirt, but maybe that was the point.

I knew what happened when I erased lines from the book, it took out everything I’d ever done, including replacing the dirt I’d removed. But maybe this new guy’s pen couldn’t create more dirt? Maybe it only destroyed pen-made constructs? If that was the case, it gave me an advantage in that he wouldn’t be able to collapse my base on top of me.

Was that why he hadn’t collapsed the tunnel on me earlier? I’d assumed it was because I was inside it, but maybe he just couldn’t do it?

Either way, it didn’t matter now. No. What mattered now was finding my friends and figuring out a way to put this douchebag in the ground.

“Ronnie, search that guy for weapons.” I nodded toward him. “And if that vest fits, I suggest you wear it.”

“Okay,” she said without argument, which was a touch surprising, but that was fine.

As she moved to the corpse, I crept forward, glancing in the rooms as we passed and wishing we’d used real construction materials. If we had, I’d still have a base.

Still, there was no use whining about that now. Besides, you live and learn, right? When this was over, I was going to reconstruct everything with real materials.

“I’m good,” Ronnie said a few minutes later, and I turned to see her standing there in a bulletproof vest way too large for her. That was no good at all. Especially because she hadn’t fit in any of the other body armor.

“There were no weapons?” I asked, looking at her.

She shook her head. “He’s been picked clean.”

“Great,” I grumbled, pausing to think. Then I used my pen to write a quick note on the pad.

The vest Ronnie is wearing is clean and fits her.

As I finished, the vest shrank to fit her perfectly, and as she stared down at it, she nodded. “Thanks.”

“Put the rest on, and I’ll modify it.” Part of me was concerned that modifying it would bite me in the ass, but at worse all that would happen is that it’d return to normal size. The thing was, I was starting to think that maybe I’d given the guy too much credit because as I looked back at the throne room, I couldn’t help but wonder why the door was still there.

Sure, it’d been a relatively normal security door when we’d installed it, but it had been modified by my pen as well. Normally, I’d have created the whole thing with my pen, but Marty had wanted to surprise me with it, which meant it was real, and near as I could tell, all the modifications I’d done with the pen to it had remained.

I wasn’t sure if it was because the other pen bearer had missed it or if it was a limit to his power, but I didn’t care because as I flipped back to the notes on the door, I found it curiously devoid of highlighter on a page that was a sea of pink.

“Okay, I’ve got it on, but I feel like I’m playing dress up in my dad’s clothes,” Ronnie whispered, edging closer to me, and her voice brought me out of my own head.

“Right.” I nodded to her as I wrote another line.

The body armor Ronnie is wearing fits her.

No sooner had I finished writing that the body armor shrank to fit her perfectly.

“Man, your magic is awesome,” she whispered, looking down at herself. “I don’t think even the stuff at Le Château de Tissu Extraordinaire fit this well.”

“I’m something of a tailor myself,” I said before taking a deep breath and nodding to her. “Now, let’s see what’s going on out there.”

That’s when I heard the sound of gunfire.

17

As I darted toward the crack of gunfire with Ronnie hot on my heels, I turned the corner to find myself staring at a squadron of soldiers wearing body armor similar to the dead one in the hallway.

While most of them had taken cover behind giant metallic shields they’d braced against the dirt floor, others were moving past them with their own set of shields, and while their advance was taking a ton of time, I immediately realized it’d be effective for two reasons.

They’d either get past the automated Gatling guns on the far wall, or the guns would run out of bullets.

Either way, I was glad Marty had purchased them instead of having me make them. Actually, as I stared at the room, I realized a lot of things were that way. There were crates of gear, broken tables, and an assortment of other things that had proved easier to buy than for me to make, mostly because it would have been a waste of my time to make it, while any of my people could buy stuff.

As bullets pinged off the shields, I launched myself from the doorway, slamming my shoulder into the closest soldier. My blow knocked him off his feet, and as he landed flat on his back, shield falling to the ground with a clack, I stomped his groin. The blow caused his eyes to bug out of his head as I followed it up by dropping my knee hard on his throat.

He convulsed beneath me as I grabbed his weapon, an Israeli made Tavor TAR-21 assault rifle and used it to cut a burst through his comrades. Bullets tore into them, and while most of the shots bounced off their body armor as I emptied the weapon, it didn’t much matter because it made them drop their shields. Their screams filled the air as the Gatling guns punched holes right through them.

Bodies flew backward as I moved forward, grabbing a dropped assault rifle from the closest corpse and rolling to cover as the advancing soldiers planted their shields.

I flung the weapon back to Ronnie as they opened fire on me, but I was already moving before they could pump me full of lead. Bullets ripped into the dirt where I’d been as I leaped sideways, hit the ground in a roll and came up right behind one of the shields they had dug into the ground.

The owner was dead, his life leaking away into the mud thanks to a Tavor round to the face just beneath the brim of his helmet. Grabbing the shield, I jerked it from the ground and planted it in front of myself, blocking the incoming fire from the soldiers.

As bullets bounced off the front of the shield, the Gatling guns continued to fire, keeping them pinned down and unable to get a good shot at me.

Unfortunately for them, that left them wide open for Ronnie, and with their attention focused on me, it only took her a split second to take the rest of them down from her perch in the hallway.

A few moments later, the Gatling guns stopped firing, and the sudden silence of it was unnerving. Only as Ronnie started to come toward me, I saw the Gatling guns swivel toward her, their barrels starting to spin.

“Stay back!” I cried and threw my hand up in the universal sign for don’t fucking move.

Ronnie froze, and when I was satisfied she wasn’t going to move out in front of the automated guns, I glanced back at the Gatling guns and issued a command. “Add Ronnie to the security database.”

As the confirmation pinged in my ears, the Gatling guns that had been struggling to reach her, ceased trying to do so and returned to their idle positions. Watching it happen annoyed me a bit. The Gatling guns should have been able to cover the doorway. It was a bad design. Yet another thing to fix.

“You’re okay to come out now,” I said, moving forward and picking up one of the Tavors, and as I stared at the man dead on the ground, I took a deep breath. Ronnie had shot him through the left ear, blowing his brains out across the dirt despite his helmet. That was worrisome. If Ronnie or I got shot in the head, we’d be dead.

“It’s a good thing they were focused on you.” Ronnie gestured toward the fallen soldiers as she came toward me, pausing just long enough to scoop up some fresh magazines. When she saw me looking at her, she shrugged. “What? We need them more than they do.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” I said, getting out my pad and pen. Then I wrote.

In moments, Ronnie’s body armor had morphed so that she had no unprotected skin, her helmet turning into a full-face job with a variety of sensors. Part of me worried it’d still get negated since I was working on a hunch, but at the same time, it’d just turn back into body armor.

“Wow, thanks,” she said, looking over herself and clearly satisfied with the changes.

“You’re welcome. See if you can find anything useful.” I nodded to the corpses.

“Right.” She went to it as I began the process of stripping down the closest corpse, dressing in his armor, and making similar modifications to my own set while keeping the armor as similar to the soldiers as I could so they might not notice us at first glance.

By the time I was done, I felt relatively protected, and what’s more, Ronnie had found a few grenades of various make and type as well as a combination of Glock 19s, Glock 17s, and Jericho 941s, but no radios or communications devices.

Opting for a Glock 19, I tucked it into my stolen holster and readied my Tavor. I wasn’t sure where the rest of the bastards were, but I knew one thing. They hadn’t breached the Gatling gun room from this way. That meant it’d be better to check out the other rooms because if any of my people were still out there, they’d be in trouble while anyone inside the rooms beyond the Gatling guns would be safe.

18

I made it about six steps before another group of soldiers appeared in the entrance at the far end of the room. I pulled the trigger of my Tavor as I threw myself out of the entryway. Bullets tore into the soldiers’ riot shields as they backpedaled for cover, giving me time to roll to my feet and take cover behind the shields the dead had left behind.

Ronnie fired, pinning the soldiers down as I spun and wrenched one of the shields from the ground behind me. Then, bracing it in front of me, I took off running while the soldiers were still focused on Ronnie.

I slammed into the first soldier’s shield with my own as Ronnie’s Tavor clicked empty. I rolled, spinning my body past the goon I’d shield-slammed and swept past him and into the throng of grunts in the hallway. Then I went to town on them, and as I punched and dodged and kicked, I found it strangely satisfying to beat them down with my own fists.

Soldiers went flying with every step I took until their bloody, broken bodies littered the hallway. I knew that Ronnie had helped, had been picking them off while I’d pounded them into the dirt, but as I stood there, lungs heaving and covered in the blood of the fallen, I couldn’t help but smile.

I’d taken out an entire squadron of goons in under ten seconds, and as I stepped over their bodies and out into the corridor at the far end of the hallway, I was feeling a lot better about myself than I had before. There might be a lot of them, but I was better.

Still, I knew I didn’t have very long before more soldiers came, so I beckoned for Ronnie to follow me once I verified the coast was clear. As she approached, I pointed to the left, where the tunnel spiraled off into the distance. When she nodded, I took off sprinting toward where I knew Cami’s lab to be.

An explosion rocked the hallway, nearly shaking me from my feet as debris fell from the ceiling. Like the rest of the base, most of it had been reduced to dirt, so nothing large hit me, but even still, it made me swallow. The tunnels might still be here, but anything could cause a cave in.

“What was that?” Ronnie asked as I peeked around the corner.

Instead of replying, I sucked in a breath. There wasn’t much of a lab anymore since what I could see through the smoke had been reduced to a twisted mishmash of metal and wires. Steam filled the corridor, spewing from a broken overhead pipe. I clenched my fist around my gun. If they’d done something like this, that meant one of my people was in here…

“I’m not sure,” I whispered right before a soldier stepped out from around the corner, gun leveled at me.

I fired at him. Two quick bursts that took his legs out from under him, and as he collapsed in front of me, I soccer kicked him in the head. His nose shattered into a spray of blood as he flopped bonelessly onto his back.

Beside me, Ronnie fired, her shots causing another soldier to dive for cover. As he hit the ground behind another one of those shields, she pressed her attack, stepping around and firing again. Bullets slammed into the shield, and as the soldier maneuvered to return fire, I saw Skye pop up from the far end of the room with an M16 in her hands.

She unleashed a burst of fire that tore into the guy’s back, pitching him forward in a spray of blood, and for a moment, it was quiet.

“Are you okay?” I called as Skye got to her feet and came toward me, evidently unconcerned about more soldiers.

“Yeah.” Skye nodded to me. “Are you?”

“Of course,” I said right before she wrapped her arms around me, hugging me. “Guess the bait thing was a dumb idea.”

“Well, it was my dumb idea, so don’t feel too bad about it. You wanted to come back.” She ran a hand through her blonde hair. “We worried about you after the first attack hit. We did okay at first, but then our shit started vanishing. Most of us managed to pull back here—”

“Most?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean, most?”

“Gail hasn’t checked in, which makes sense because she was on the east side of the base by the croc pond when this all went down and most everyone is with Maggie on the west end trying to keep the remaining soldiers from getting inside.” Skye glared at the hallway to our left. “This is as far east as I’ve been able to make it.”

“I’ll go get Gail.” I nodded to Skye. “You, go help Maggie. Seems like she needs all the help she can get.”

“She does.” She nodded toward where the showers were. “They must have come through where the plumbing connected to the main waterway…”

“Make a note of it.” I tried to keep my anger in check. If anything happened to my people… No. I didn’t even want to think about that. Instead, I needed to focus on getting Gail back while Skye and the others dealt with the soldiers. Then I’d come back and help them. “Ronnie, can you help Skye?”

“Um … sure.” Ronnie looked from Skye to me and back again. “Um… hello?”

“Don’t worry, honey,” Skye said, waving for me to go. “You can trust me. I’m not the jealous type.”

“Right. I’m going to get Gail and then I’ll be back.” I turned and made my way east.

Like most of the rest of the base, the pathway to the east was a dark empty hole of dirt mixed with a few sparking wires, and I was glad for the night vision granted by my new helmet because it allowed me to see the six armed guards when I turned the corner.

“There!” one soldier called, pointing his gun at me. I threw myself sideways as he pulled the trigger, giving me enough of a head start to dodge the shot. It slammed into the dirt wall behind me as the rest of the soldiers opened up, filling the corridor with bullets.

While a couple bullets hit me in the leg as I scrambled to my feet, the pain never hit me. Instead, my focus intensified as I reached the crowd of soldiers, emptying my Tavor in the process. As one of the soldiers flew backward, his chest a bloody mishmash of flesh, I slammed my empty gun into another’s nose. His head snapped backward as I tore his gun from his hands and smashed the still firing weapon into his partner’s face.

The soldier’s night vision goggles shattered in a spray of black plastic as I whirled, ripping weapons from their hands and using them like high-tech clubs. A moment later, I was standing in the middle of a squad of dead soldiers, their broken bodies a testament to my power.

Then I stepped over them and continued east.

I soon found myself at the entrance to a large room filled with soldiers, but that’s not what made my heart fill with rage.

No. It was the sight of Gail standing there with a gun pointed at the back of her head while several other soldiers were unloading what looked like explosives from the back of a truck. That was also when I realized what they planned on doing. This was the main entrance and exit to the surface, and if they blew it, my people would be trapped here. And with soldiers occupying the waterways to the west, they’d be screwed.

I had to stop them from doing that, and I had to save Gail. There was just one problem. The moment I started shooting, the bastards would be on to me, and that was assuming they didn’t just shoot Gail since she was obviously some kind of hostage.

No. I needed a better plan, and as I stared at the soldiers, I realized I had one. It was just risky. Because it meant my pen had to work.

Still, it was better than the alternative. Taking a deep breath, I started writing.

Gail is aware of what will happen three seconds after I finish writing. The ground in the room beneath the truck will vanish, and everyone but Gail will suddenly be five hundred feet lower.

Then I waited.

I’d wanted to do more, but anything I did risked either not working or getting undone, and I couldn’t have that happen. Not with the life of Gail, and everyone else, at stake.

The ground vanished. Well, most of it anyway.

While I was used to the effects of the pen, something about seeing everything suddenly plummet five hundred feet was strangely disconcerting. Everything but Gail anyway, because she was already moving as the ground vanished, dropping flat to the floor. As she did, the guard holding the gun on her started to fire.

Unfortunately, since he was already falling, he was unable to aim properly, and his bullet zinged through the spot where she’d been an eyeblink earlier. The rest of the room fared even less well, and as everyone disappeared down man-sized holes, I smiled. It had worked.

“Gail, are you okay?” I asked, moving forward into the room as she looked over to me, a smile on her face.

“I am now.” She got to her feet and came toward me, careful to avoid the myriad of holes around the room. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“You don’t seem that worried—”

She cut me off by kissing me hard. When she broke away, she shrugged. “Why would I be worried? I knew you’d save me.”

19

Gail gave me the rundown on what had happened, which was pretty much as I’d suspected. At almost the same time I’d gotten attacked in Le Château de Tissu Extraordinaire, a group of soldiers had stormed the place, literally burrowing through one of the walls in one of those moleman-style machines Wayne had used.

Then, as my team scrambled to react, stuff started vanishing, or at least, that’s what Gail had put together from what the soldiers had said since she hadn’t actually seen the attack.

Her words angered me. These assholes had burrowed into my base and then started taking it apart. They would pay for that.

“Well, hopefully, one of them stays alive long enough to get some information out of him,” I snapped, glaring at the tunnel ahead as I made my way to the west since that was where Skye had said they’d been fighting back the attackers.

“Perhaps,” Gail tightened her grip on her pistol. “Though I’d rather they all got fed to the crocs.” She shook her head. “You don’t know what they talked about doing to me.” She shivered. “Vile people.”

Another flash of anger ripped through me as I contemplated her words. I was pretty sure I knew exactly what those soldiers had planned for my girls. Well, I’d just have to teach them, and everyone else a lesson.

First thing was first though. Take the base back.

Focusing on the tunnel ahead, I crept along, the Tavor in my hand. Part of me wanted to use my pen to fill the base with toxic gas or something, but I didn’t want to risk it without having eyes on my people. There was too big of a chance for something to go wrong with a plan like that.

It didn’t take long for the sounds of gunfire to fill my ears, and as I turned a corner, I saw why. Six of those giant drill contraptions had burst through the far wall of the great amphitheater and were providing cover for a metric fuck ton of soldiers.

While I couldn’t see exactly where my team was, I could hear the ping of their bullets bouncing off the steel skin of the vehicles.

Turning quickly to Gail, I handed her my Tavor. “Cover me.”

She nodded and took the weapon from me as my pen went into my hand. Then I wrote.

My first try, repeating what I’d done with the soldiers when I’d saved Gail, didn’t work, and as I stared at the scene, I tried to think about how to handle this so the other pen holder couldn’t undo it. It seemed like whoever this guy was, he couldn’t erase real things or modifications to real things — only the stuff that was completely fabricated with the pen. It also took him a few seconds to undo anything I wrote down instead of spoke aloud. So, I’d have to work with what was already here, and what I could make happen fast.

Then I had an idea.

“Gonna need just a minute here,” I called to Gail as I started with My people know the whole plan two seconds after I finish writing.

Gail grunted between squeezing off rounds with the Tavor. “I trust you. Just hurry, okay?”

“Yeah,” I said as I quickly scribbled out the rest of the plan, which included my people knowing how to operate the moleman machines and moving them to where Marty and the girls had taken cover. Since those things were real, we’d just use their own weapons against them. I added a few more details, including that none of the enemies were going to escape because they wanted to fight to the death, and then wrote the last line.

A bunch of Claymores go off in the middle of all the soldiers.

I held my breath for a few seconds until the lines I’d written failed to disappear and a series of explosions ripped through the enemy ranks. The giant-ass drilling machines vanished and reappeared, three along each side of the amphitheater, which told me that my people were split up.

Without their armored cover to hide behind, the front lines of soldiers started falling to the bullets blasting from both sides of the area, where my people were now protected by the machines.

“Go help them,” I said to Gail, waving at the closest group to the right as I penned one further line. My bulletproof suit also covers my head, but I can still see and breathe. Instantly, the black goop of the suit Cami had made surged up and over my head and face. It was a weird feeling being completely encased in this stuff, but all my senses still functioned.

Gail nodded and ran for the group on the right, firing the Tavor as she went. On that side, Skye had eased around the back of the line of moleman machines and was taking potshots at the soldiers, while Vanessa, the girl who’d opted to magically gain doctor skills along with Maggie, climbed up to the top of a machine for a better vantage point.

They were really mowing the enemies down now, but we still faced a ton of them hanging back in the tunnels their machines had punched through the base, trading bullets with a vengeance.

I tried to write myself a weapon. For a few seconds, I held an AK-47 in my hands, but it disappeared almost instantly. Well, it looked like I did have a handle on how the other pen holder’s powers worked, at least.

Now, since I was completely bulletproof, I was going to take these bastards head-on.

The soldiers weren’t expecting to see a guy in a head-to-toe skintight black suit running straight at them down the center of the amphitheater. It took them a few seconds to respond, but when they did, there was suddenly a lot of gunfire trained on me. Bullets slammed into my chest, stomach, legs, and shoulders. One of them smacked me square in the forehead, and I felt the sting as it crumpled on impact and tumbled off. Yes! This body armor was awesome.

I ran at the front line of soldiers, wrestling the assault rifle from the nearest one as another one fired at close range. That one almost stung, like someone had whacked me in the back with a wet sponge. I ripped the weapon from the soldier and blew his face apart with a close shot, then spun and whacked the butt end of the rifle upside the head of the one who’d shot me in the back.

As the sound of engines starting up filled the amphitheater, I yanked the gun from the hands of the second dead soldier and started firing two-handed, spinning in a circle like a human turret. Blood and flesh sprayed around me as bodies fell back, and when the weapons ran dry, I tackled another soldier to the ground. His weapon in my hands, I blasted his chest into bloody shards.

It was almost ridiculously easy plowing through these guys. I was even better than I thought — the skills I’d given myself with the pen let me move quickly, identify enemies targeting me and blast them before they could get a shot off. I was hyper-aware of my surroundings, even in the middle of total chaos.

That was how I spotted an enemy that was dressed slightly different than the others, barking orders left and right while three soldiers shielded him from fire. And I knew that was the one I wanted to take alive.

Behind me, two of the moleman machines were rumbling toward the remaining enemy troops, their giant gleaming drill heads spinning at deadly speeds. I figured Skye and Marty were driving them. Instead of running for cover, the soldiers were surging toward their oncoming deaths because I’d written them into fighting to the last man.

I plowed through black-clad soldiers, smashing armor and goggles, shattering skulls with bullets and gun stocks. Finally, I reached the three soldiers shielding the boss. I grinned at them, thinking it was a pity they couldn’t see my expression under the body armor’s face shield, but I could tell they were disconcerted anyway.

Hell, I would be too, if I was facing down a blood-covered Venom lookalike with a perfectly molded body, holding two machine guns.

But I wanted the boss-man behind them alive. So instead of shooting, I tossed one of the guns aside and bashed the center bodyguard in the head with the other, snatching the pistol he’d been trying to shoot me with before I turned it on the other two. As they dropped, I grabbed the weapon that the boss had pointed at me, breaking his wrist in the process.

He screamed and fell to his knees as I kept my grip on his arm. “I get that you’re trying to stay alive back here with your human shields,” I said. “Guess it’s your lucky day. You’re going to stick around for a while.”

“I’m going to kill you, and all your friends,” he said through gritted teeth.

I laughed and gestured behind me as more screams rose above the grinding wheels of the moleman machines, and the last few rounds of gunfire split the air as my team took out the remaining stragglers.

“Really?” I asked, grinning even though he couldn’t see it. “You and what army?”

The captured soldier looked around slowly, the color draining from his features. Then he fixed me with a cold stare. “You won’t win. He’ll send more reinforcements, and—”

“Enough of that noise, I mean, look what you did to my base, you asshole.” I hammered him with a fist to his jaw, knocking him out cold.

By then my team had shut down the machines and started toward me, scrambling across bodies and carnage.

“Everybody okay?” I called to them as I scanned the area, making sure no other enemies were moving. I saw Marty and Lisa approaching from the left with Cami and Maggie, while Skye, Miss Montgomery, Gail, and Vanessa were coming from the right. “Where’s Amy?”

“She’s back there with Ronnie,” Skye said as she gestured toward the drilling machines. As I glanced back toward them, I realized I’d probably have some explaining to do with Miss Tennessee once things settled down. “I can’t believe you did that, Roger,” Skye added, moving closer to me. “Why would you charge them like that?”

“Because they pissed me off.” My pen slid into my hand as I recalled it, and I wrote The head covering on my body armor is retractable. As I finished the line, the black goo pulled itself back into the rest of the suit, and I took an involuntary deep breath even though I could breathe perfectly fine with the face armor up. “Okay, we’re going to find out what exactly happened here, and this guy’s gonna tell us.” I shook the unconscious bad guy I still held. “Miss Montgomery, you’re up. Get him ready to talk, will you?”

My ex-guidance counselor grinned as she enlisted Vanessa to help her grab the limp sack of dead weight and start dragging him away from the bodies. Miss Montgomery had asked to be made head torturer, and I couldn’t deny her the position. Even without her pen-enhanced skills, she was really, really good at the rough stuff.

I nodded, satisfied that for the moment everyone was safe and there were no more enemies down here trying to kill us.

“Now I need to figure out how to keep this guy off our backs, at least for a while,” I said. “Oh … and can someone please check on my crocodiles? Especially Mandy. I think she’s still pissed at me about that whole cabbage thing.” I gestured at the bodies. “But then again, she’ll probably be well fed tonight, so I guess that works out.”

Maggie and Lisa started back across the amphitheater, and I headed toward the drill machines where Amy and Ronnie had stayed. First, I’d find a way to keep the pen holder who was after me away and give us time to regroup, then I’d have a quick talk with Ronnie and make sure everyone had a way to get cleaned up and recovering.

And then, I’d get my prisoner to tell me who was doing this — and how I could stop the bastard.

20

Once we’d checked the base, or what was left of it, to make sure there were no more surprises with guns hanging around, I grabbed my pen to figure out a way to get this new pen holder off my back for a while. Things I’d used in the past to hide myself, like writing that no one could spy on me or find me, didn’t work this time. The words vanished as soon as I finished writing them.

I decided to try negating the other pen holder’s power and wrote No one but me can see what I write with the pen. I breathed a sigh of relief when the line actually stayed, but the words were already starting to fade. This trick wouldn’t work for long. I’d have to think of something else soon.

“Okay, first things first,” I said to everyone. We’d gathered back in the ruined amphitheater, and I made a few quick changes with my pen. After sending enough of the soldiers’ bodies to the crocodiles to keep them happy for the foreseeable future, I got rid of the rest of the corpses and moved the drilling machines back in front of the holes they’d come through. But I made sure their weapons stayed behind, so we’d have a damned good arsenal that no one could tamper with.

Then I penned a bunch of showers, changing rooms, and couches into existence. When that stuff didn’t vanish, I knew for sure that the erasing pen holder couldn’t affect me. For now.

As everyone headed to get cleaned up and settled down, I grabbed Miss Montgomery and Gail. Since Gail was the one these bastards had grabbed, she’d want payback more than anyone. And Miss Montgomery, well, was herself…

“We need to get our guest to talk as soon as possible,” I said, leading them to the far corner of the amphitheater where Miss Montgomery had left the guy we’d captured tied up with real, non-pen fabricated rope. “Are you girls up for this right now?”

“Hell, yes,” Gail practically growled as her eyes flashed fire.

Miss Montgomery laughed. “Oh, you know I am.”

“Good, because I want to know everything. We can’t have some asshole threatening us,” I said as we reached the bound and still unconscious form on the floor, and I had to resist the urge to kick him awake for what he’d done to my people.

Instead, I used the pen to create a large-sized enclosed room, shutting the space off from the rest of the amphitheater, and then started generating various implements for Miss Montgomery. I replaced the ropes binding the guy with chains that suspended him from the ceiling, with barely enough slack for his toes to touch where he was tied to the ground. I kinda wished I could do this in my throne room with the kickass fire-breathing dragon throne, but a bunch of assholes had destroyed my base, and I didn’t have time to recreate the whole thing.

Especially since there was someone out there trying to erase everything I did.

The last thing I wrote was There’s a bucket of ice cold water on the floor next to me. When it appeared, I picked it up and hurled the contents at the chained man.

He coughed and spluttered awake, then glared at me. “You’re making a huge mistake here, pal.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” I nodded to Miss Montgomery, and she started stripping the guy’s damaged body armor off with a cheery smile. As she did so, she started whistling that dwarf tune from Snow White.

Meanwhile, Gail was looking over the tray of sharp objects I’d created, her eyes gleaming angrily. She picked up a razor and rolled it between her fingers.

“Look,” I said as Gail set the weapon down and moved to the small ball-peen hammer. “The truth is, I really don’t want it to go this way. You can save yourself a lot of pain, right now. Just tell me who you’re working for.”

He shook his head slowly and grimaced. “You’ll just kill me instead of torturing me, right?”

“No, he won’t kill you,” Gail said, narrowing her gaze as she picked up a huge dagger. “I will.”

“Hey, save some of the fun for me,” Miss Montgomery said, firing up her blowtorch.

The chained man tried to lunge at me, but only managed to spin himself around a little. It was sort of funny to watch since he was hooked to a swivel on the ceiling and floor.

When he finally slowed, he glared at me. “You are so dead. You know that, don’t you?” he said, directing a disgusting leer at Gail. “Oh, sweetheart. The things they’re going to do to you when they take out your boyfriend here. Why don’t you put that little knife down, and then you can come over here and kiss my ass? Or better yet, you can put those lips to better use on something else.”

“You might want to watch that mouth of yours, pal,” I growled. “You don’t talk to a lady like that.”

“Lady?” the guy said, his twisted leer deepening. “I don’t see any ladies here. All I see is a couple of sluts begging to be smacked down. And you can forget finding out who I work for because I’m not telling you a damned thing.”

“Oh honey, I was really hoping you’d say that.” Miss Montgomery let out a laugh and clapped her hands.

“You know, sometimes I feel like a supervillain when we have to resort to stuff like this.” I gave a sad shake of my head as I looked at the asshole in chains one more time. “It really didn’t have to come to this,” I added and then turned to Miss Montgomery. “Do your thing.”

She put a hand on my arm. “Sometimes you gotta be a little bit of a bad guy, so you can deal with even worse guys.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I shrugged. “I’ll be right outside, okay?” When she nodded and got serious, I left to go talk to Ronnie while the girls went to work.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find her before they were done because it only took about ten minutes for the guy to crack and start screaming.

“I think this guy has something to say to you now,” Felicia said with a smile like a cat as I came back into the room.

The bound man looked up at me with murder in his eyes and said, “His name’s Presley.”

Well, that wasn’t any better than the nothing I already knew. “Repeat that, please,” I said.

“Presley, goddamn it!” the man ground out. “That’s all I know. First name, last name, I have no idea,” he said, taking a panting breath between every few words. “We do everything over the phone or online. I’ve only met him two or three times in person.”

“Fine. Where does he live, then?” I asked.

He glared at me through watery eyes. “I don’t know. I meet him at a bar in Boulder City called Club Ace when I have to. He’s about six-four or six-five, dark hair, deep tan, always wearing sunglasses and white suits. That’s all I know, I swear!”

I looked at Miss Montgomery. “Do you believe him?”

“Yeah,” she said with a disappointed sigh. “I guess I do.”

“All right, then.” I nodded to Gail. “He’s all yours.”

The prisoner tried to lunge again. “You son of a—”

That was all he got out before the former head cheerleader finished him off.

Gail stepped back, breathing hard as spots of color blossomed high on her cheeks. “How was that?” she said to Miss Montgomery.

The other woman flashed a seductive smile. “Honestly? It was pretty hot,” she said.

“Hey, do you two ladies want to be alone?” I said with a grin as I grabbed my pen and used it to dispose of the body. “Because I can step out of here, give you a little privacy. I have an important phone call to make, anyway.”

“Nah, we’re good. We’ll follow you out,” Felicia said, and Gail nodded agreement. “Besides, it’s no fun without you.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, winking as I headed out of the room.

In the main amphitheater, I did a quick check to make sure everyone was still okay, and then fished my phone out and scrolled to the number for Agent Smith in my contacts. When she’d used her pen to come here and take possession of Wayne Tenner, she’d said that the FBI was keeping tabs on all the pen holders. She had to know something about this guy.

My call was answered on the second ring, and personally. It must’ve been her cell phone number.

“Roger,” Agent Smith said in a tone that suggested she was happy to hear from me. “Are you ready to take me up on my offer?”

“Uh, no.” I was still definitely not interested in joining the FBI. “Listen, I need some information.”

“About what?” she said, still sounding pleasant although there was a slight edge to her voice now.

I tapped my fingers on my thigh. “Does the name Presley mean anything to you?”

“Oh, good. I was wondering when he’d decide to pay attention to you,” Agent Smith said with a sigh. “He doesn’t much like when other bearers come to Vegas.”

“Pay attention to me? The son of a bitch sent an army to try and kill me!” I shouted and forced myself to take a calming breath. “Look, I just want to know—”

“What do you mean, an army?” Agent Smith interrupted before taking a deep breath and continuing in a way that suggested she didn’t actually want an answer. “Roger, listen. I really think you should just leave this one alone.”

“Me, leave it alone? Are you kidding me?” I said, starting to get angry now. “Did you hear the part about him trying to kill me and my whole team?”

There was another sigh through the phone. “Look, we know how this guy works,” the agent said. “He didn’t start out trying to kill you, right? What did he want?”

I almost snapped at her again, and then I thought back to the possessed roulette croupier back at the casino. “He wanted me to get out of Nevada. Said this whole place is his,” I said. “But I’m not—”

“Well, then, I strongly suggest you do that,” Agent Smith said in a way that made me think she meant it.

“What?” I cried, incredulous. “Let me repeat. This guy tried to kill me. And now you, the FBI, law and order, are telling me to just do what he says? So what, you’re just letting this guy be the King of Nevada?”

After a long pause, she said, “The truth is, there’s very little we can do about him. We know less about him than any other pen holder, and he’s impossible to pin down. And yes, it’s usually easier to stay out of his territory. People generally don’t get killed that way.”

“So, your special department is a bunch of cowards,” I said roughly.

“It’s not like that,” she said. “It’s complicated.”

“This guy needs to be stopped!” I took another calming breath. “Okay, look. Do me a favor and tell me what you do know about him.”

“Roger—”

“Just tell me,” I snapped.

She heaved a breath. “His real name is Henry Aaron. He stays off the grid, but we know he has access to serious funds, manpower, and equipment somehow. His last known address was in a small town called Duckback, Nevada, but that place has been empty for years. And that’s about it.”

It was my turn to sigh. “Seriously, that’s all you’ve got?”

“Seriously, yes,” she said, and then paused. “Roger, are you going after Presley?”

“Damned right I am,” I said, looking across the underground space at my team. I didn’t know what I’d do if I’d lost any of them. “And before you ask, yeah, I do think I have a better chance than the FBI at getting him.”

“Actually, I agree with you. I think we should work together,” Agent Smith said a little breathlessly. “If we team up—”

“No, that won’t be necessary. We’ve got this,” I said.

“All right. If you’re sure …”

She let the words hang in the air for a few seconds, and when I didn’t take the bait, we said goodbye and hung up. At least now I knew the guy’s actual name, which was more than I had before.

Now, one way or another, Henry Aaron ‘Presley’ was going down.

21

The line I’d written, No one but me can see what I write with the pen, was still legible but had faded about halfway to gone. I needed to come up with something else soon, but for now, I had to get things organized around here, so we weren’t vulnerable to another attack. We had to do it right this time, with real materials. It was going to take more time than I wanted, but it had to be done.

Everyone seemed to be settling down and relaxing, so I went over to Ronnie, who was sitting alone on one of the couches and looking a little overwhelmed.

“Crazy, right?” I said as I sat down next to her with an apologetic smile. “I know this is a lot to take in, and I’m sorry you ended up in the middle of it.”

“Yeah, it is a lot,” she said, but she smiled anyway. “I’m still alive thanks to you. And I guess … you really do have magic.”

I nodded slowly. “And some asshole’s trying to take it away from me,” I said as I tried to decide what to do about Ronnie. I hadn’t exactly meant to bring her here, and the best thing to do was probably to take her back to her old life, away from this mess we were in right now. But if this Henry Aaron guy knew that Ronnie was with me, which he likely did, considering he’d possessed that poor slob in the casino and Ronnie had been standing right there, she might not be safe.

“Listen, maybe you should stay here with us for a while,” I said slowly, considering my words. After all, I still didn’t want anyone to stay with me against their will. “I won’t force you to. Like, I’m not into kidnapping or anything. But I’m just worried that if you leave, this guy might recognize you. Maybe even hurt you.”

“Are you kidding?” At first, I thought she meant there was no way in hell she’d stick around here after having a bunch of goons try to kill her, but then she gave me an excited smile. “This is the most fun I’ve had in, like, ever! I’d really like to stay … that is if you don’t mind,” she said as she looked away and blushed a little. “And if your friends don’t mind.”

“I’m sure they won’t,” I said, relieved that for now, I wouldn’t have to figure out how to make sure Ronnie would be safe somewhere else. Once this was over, it might be a different story, but for the moment the logistics would be a little simpler. “And speaking of my friends, I never did get the chance to introduce you properly. How about we do that now?”

“I’d like that,” she said. And before I could make another move, she leaned in and kissed me full on the mouth. She tasted awesome, all sweet and silky. “Thank you for saving my life,” she whispered as she drew back. “I hope you’ll let me make it up to you later.”

“I would like that a lot,” I said as I forced my appetites to stand down for the time being. “Trust me.”

“I believe you.” She nodded to my crotch, and I shrugged because what else could I do?

A few minutes later, everyone had gathered together in the general area of the couches. As I introduced Ronnie around, she smiled and nodded at each of them, and I was happy to see that no one seemed jealous or upset about her staying.

“All right,” I said when I’d finished the introductions. “We have a problem, and his name is Henry Aaron, also known as Presley. He’s the one who was behind this attack.”

“So, that’s his real name?” Gail said as her eyes narrowed angrily. “How’d you find out?”

“With that important phone call I mentioned. I called Agent Smith. She doesn’t know much more about the guy other than his name so that lead’s pretty much a bust,” I said as I paced a few steps, trying to think on the spot. “We’re going to find him. But in the meantime, we have to make sure nothing like this happens again.”

“Yeah, and how are we gonna do that?” Marty said as he put a protective arm around Lisa, who was sitting next to him. “This guy has some kind of magic eraser that works against your pen, right? So, anything you do, he’d just going to undo it.”

I shook my head. “He does, but he can’t undo everything,” I said as I mentally reviewed all that had happened since I found out about Presley. I wanted to make sure I hadn’t missed any possible loopholes in my theory. “Okay, so as far as I can tell, his pen can’t affect real things, and that includes real things that are modified with the pen. He hasn’t been able to erase any mods, just the stuff that was fully created by the pen. And there’s also a way I can sneak a few things past him.”

“You mean like the explosions that went off back there?” Cami said, catching on fast as she waved at the gaping holes in the dirt walls where the soldiers had busted through. Of course, she’d catch on. She was a rocket scientist, after all. “I was wondering how that happened. None of us had any bombs or grenades or anything.”

“Exactly like that,” I said, nodding agreement. “It doesn’t work with spoken commands, unfortunately. He can negate those right away. But if I write something down, it takes him a few seconds to catch up. So as long as I write something that happens immediately, he can’t undo it.”

Miss Montgomery looked around the amphitheater. “So, if this guy can erase pen constructs, how did you manage to get the shower rooms and the couches to stay here?”

“I blocked him temporarily,” I said, showing them the paper with the faded writing about no one being able to spy on me using the pen. “But it’s not going to last long, so I have to think of something else. Meanwhile, we need to turn this place into something real, something he can’t erase from existence and screw us over again.”

Marty stared at me. “Uh, dude, that sounds kind of impossible,” he said. “Even if we could somehow actually build a secret base, we’re under the Medallion here. Remember? I think they might get a little suspicious if we start bringing in bulldozers and jackhammers and shit.”

“That’s right. They will,” I said as I flicked my wrist, brought my pen into my hand and wrote something. “But they can’t stop us since I now have a meeting with the owner of the Medallion, so I can buy the place.”

“Damn! That is an awesome idea,” Marty laughed.

I grinned. “So now, we can not only rebuild the base, but we can stay in the suites for nothing while the work’s being done,” I explained. “I’m thinking we’ll just take over the fifth floor. That’s where all the business suites and conference rooms are, and we’re gonna need the space. At least one room will be a temporary lab.”

Cami arched an eyebrow. “Okay, so what am I building?”

“The most kick-ass combat suit you can come up with,” I told her. “Because once we find this guy, I’m taking the fight straight to him, so if my pen doesn’t work against him, the suit will.”

Cami’s eyes practically lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “I have about a million cool ideas already.”

Amy waved a hand in the air to get my attention. “This all sounds great, but what about money?” she said, darting a nervous glance around the room. “I mean, we’re going to need serious funds, real cash, to accomplish all this, right? And I thought we were kinda running low.”

“Good point and I think I’ve got that covered too,” I said as I smiled at her. “Actually, you do.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

“Absolutely,” I said, going for the pen again. “See, I just racked up a few million while I was out, and it’s been deposited in the account. So now you’re going to use that seed money and turn millions into billions.”

I wrote out, Amy is an extremely talented day trader who always picks the right stocks for the biggest returns.

As I finished writing, Amy winced a little and put a hand to her head as the information she needed poured into her brain, and then she smiled. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” she said with a grin. “Just get me to a computer.”

I nodded. “That’s on the list of immediate needs. And Skye, you’re going to use your hacker skills to help Amy out.”

“What hacker skills?” she said as I wrote a few more words, and then a look of surprise spread on her face as the command I’d written took effect. “Oh. Those hacker skills,” she said with a sly smile.

“Okay, so let’s get this ball rolling,” I said as I headed across the amphitheater to go upstairs, so I could buy this place outright.

22

I’d set up the meeting with the hotel casino’s owner to take place in one of the fifth-floor conference rooms, about an hour from when I’d written it. I waited a few extra minutes, making sure that he arrived first before I walked in like I owned the place. Which I was about to.

The guy sitting at the far end of the high-gloss table gave off a seriously distracted vibe despite his expensive silk suit and the leather briefcase on the table. He pulled off his rimless glasses and massaged his eyes for a moment before glancing down at his watch, an expensive looking gold Rolex.

Though he didn’t seem terribly interested in me, the woman seated to his right, a blonde in her late twenties with perfect posture, a figure so fantastic it was like she was into poured into a power suit, and blue eyes assessed me sharply, and her tiny smile said she liked what she saw.

“Hey, there,” I said as I closed the door and strode across the room wearing the best suit my suit could conjure up. “Thanks for coming to this meeting.”

Business Dude cleared his throat, took his glasses off again and buffed them on his shirt before slipping them back on.

“Yes, well, I’m still not exactly sure why I’m here,” he said in a tone of mild annoyance. “But Shelley assures me that this meeting is in my appointment book and that you want to buy my casino. Whoever you are.”

“Roger Stevens. I’m sure that’s in your appointment book, at least,” I said as I helped myself to the chair across from Shelley. “And you are?”

The man spluttered. “How could you possibly not know who I am?”

“Peter Loman, CEO of Loman Withholdings and Development,” Shelley said smoothly, extending a slim hand across the table toward me. “And I’m Shelley Vayne, executive assistant.”

“Nice to meet you.” I took her hand and held it a little too long, giving her a dazzling smile. “Well, enough with the small talk. Let’s get down to business.”

Peter’s lip curled slightly. “I would if we had any business to get down to,” he said. “I only came here to find out why on Earth I agreed to this meeting because the Medallion is simply not for sale.”

“Sure, it is. Everything’s for sale, for the right price,” I said as I spread my hands out. “So, name it.”

His brow went up. “Excuse me?”

“Name your price,” I said, more interested in Shelley’s reaction than Peter’s. At least she seemed impressed. “Whatever it is, I’ll pay it.”

Peter blinked a few times, and then an unpleasant smile spread on his face. “All right. I’ll play your game, entertain your little fantasy,” he said as he gave Shelley a can-you-believe-this-guy look. “Let me guess. You won big at the tables, and now you think you’re so rich, you can buy your own casino. Right?” He shook his head slowly. “People like you, you have no idea what real wealth is like.”

“Uh-huh. People like me,” I said. “Well, Peter, you have no idea what I’m like. And you still haven’t named your price yet. So, how about a number?”

“Oh, I’ll give you a number,” he said as the ugly smile came back. “Eight hundred million.”

I shrugged. “Done.”

That got a smile from Shelley and a flustered look from Peter. But he recovered with a blink and leaned closer to me. “I changed my mind. One billion dollars.”

He was expecting me to look shocked, so I did … for a few seconds. Then I grinned. “No problem. Where do I sign?”

“You’re insane. You can’t possibly afford that much,” Peter said looking at me curiously. “And that’s almost twice what this dump is worth.”

“Try me,” I said, looking straight at him. “Look, I’ll pay any price you’re asking, and I’ll give you whatever you want. Anything at all.”

“Oh, really,” Peter said wistfully as he snapped one of the catches on his briefcase. “How about you head over to the hospital and wake up my daughter?” He snarled the words, and then his face paled, and his settled into an angry frown. “But you can’t give me that, can you?”

He shoved the chair back violently from the table and headed out of the room at a fast pace.

I watched him go, suddenly feeling like a real jerk. I wasn’t quite sure what all that was about, but it was obviously something bad. Even still, I kind of wanted to help him even if he didn’t wind up selling me the place. After all, I could move, could find another casino or whatever. This was just easier.

Whatever he was going through obviously wasn’t easy, and given that I’d lost my parents, I understood loss all too well. If his daughter was in a coma, well, I wanted to help him if I could.

Before I could ask any questions, Shelley explained. “His daughter, Vera has been in a coma for two years. There was a bad car accident, and …” She trailed off, shaking her head. “This morning, her doctors asked him to consider pulling the plug.”

Okay, I was definitely a jerk. I couldn’t have known about this when I set up the meeting, but still. “I am so sorry,” I said, looking at the still-open door where Peter had rushed out, probably to find a bathroom and throw up. I know I would have. “Listen, I … do you have a piece of paper handy?”

Shelley frowned slightly, then pulled a piece of paper from her pad and slid it across the table to me. “Can I ask why you need it?”

“I just have to make a note about something.” I held my breath as I grabbed my pen, hoping this would actually work. I already knew the pen couldn’t magically cure cancer, but it could make treatments work. And people in comas waking up was a real possibility that could happen.

I hesitated and then wrote, Vera Loman’s medical treatment works, and she wakes up from her coma.

The sentence didn’t disappear.

I smiled as I folded the paper and stuck it in my pocket.

“Thanks,” I said as I nodded to her. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“You’re welcome,” she said slowly, eyeing me with suspicion and interest. “What did you write down?”

“Hopefully, a miracle,” I said with a shrug.

She opened her mouth to ask a question, but just then Peter strode back in without looking at either of us. Clearly, he had decided I needed another stern talking to. It was fine. He was upset, and if he wanted to vent at me, well, that was fine.

“Let me put this in very simple terms, Mr. Stevens,” he snapped as he reached the head of the table and started closing his briefcase. “The Medallion is not for sale under any circumstances, and especially not to you. This meeting is not only the biggest waste of my time I’ve ever experienced, but I have half a mind to call the police—”

“I know you won’t sell, and it’s fine,” I said in a calm tone as I stood. “Don’t worry about it. And seriously, I am truly sorry about your daughter.” I thought about offering a handshake but decided he was way too upset for pleasantries. “But listen, I think you’re going to get some good news about her soon.” I smiled. “I have a good feeling about it.”

He looked at me with blazing eyes, and I really thought he was going to take a swing at me. But just then, the buzz of a phone sounded from his pocket. His rage melted into confusion as he pulled it out, glanced at the screen, stared at me for a second, and then answered the call. “Hello?”

During the pause that followed, I could hear an excited voice on the other end of the line. I couldn’t make out what it was saying, but the look on Peter’s face told me anyway. His mouth quivered open, a tear gathered and fell from his eye. He let out a hoarse sob before he clapped a hand over his mouth and turned away, walking a few shaky paces toward the back of the room.

“She’s really awake?” he rasped. “She spoke?”

My own heart gave a little twist. At that moment, I didn’t care about buying the casino anymore. I’d find another way to make this work. Being able to do something like this for a complete stranger was just as awesome as having a secret base.

Shelley stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Did you …?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be there in ten minutes. No, make it five,” Peter said breathlessly before I could answer Shelley’s non-question. He turned back, putting his phone away with a trembling hand as he moved toward the table like a man in a dream. “You knew,” he said to me. “How? Did you make this happen somehow? I mean, you said anything.”

I wasn’t sure what to tell him. Definitely not anything that sounded like I have a magic pen. Finally, I settled on, “I have a few connections. But really, I’m just damned glad she’s going to be okay.” I smiled. “After all, what good is having connections if you can’t help someone out once in a while?”

Instead of responding, Peter stepped around the table and grabbed me in a bear hug.

The surprise only lasted a few seconds, and then I kind of patted his back, since he’d mostly pinned my arms to my sides.

“Hey, man, go see your daughter,” I said. “Sorry I roped you into this meeting.”

He stepped back and fixed his shining eyes on me. “To hell with it. You can have the casino,” he said as he smoothed his suit and ran a hand through his hair, trying to get himself back under control. “I’ve got more of them. And I’d pay a hell of a lot more than one lousy casino for this.”

It was my turn for jaw-dropping shock. “Are you sure?” I said. “Believe me, I wasn’t trying to convince you to sell—”

“Sell? No, you can have it. After all, you gave me what I’d asked for.” Peter pushed his briefcase slightly back on the table. “Shelley will draw up the transfer of ownership papers for you. It’ll take a few days for everything to go through, but as far as I’m concerned, the Medallion is yours.” He seized my hand in both of his and shook it once. “Thank you,” he whispered as fresh tears formed in his eyes. “I have no idea what you did or how you did it, and I don’t care. Just … thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I managed as a slight lump formed in my throat.

“I have to go,” he said, breaking off abruptly. “Shelley—”

“The car’s waiting for you out front. Go on,” she said smoothly as she slipped a cell phone in her pocket. I hadn’t even noticed her using it. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

He nodded and practically ran out of the conference room.

I let out a long breath and slumped back into my chair, totally stunned. “Was he serious?”

“Of course, he was. Loman Withholdings owns at least a dozen casinos, two dozen hotels, a bunch of bars and entertainment venues. Basically, a huge slice of the Vegas pie. They won’t even feel losing this one.” Shelley smiled as she pulled the briefcase toward her and started shuffling through papers. “That was some miracle, by the way,” she added. “You’re a very interesting man, Mr. Roger Stevens.”

“Well, thank you,” I said with a smile of my own. “And you’re a very interesting woman. That was a neat trick you pulled, having the car ready for him. Like magic.”

She raised an eyebrow. “All of us ‘executive assistants’ can work magic,” she said, putting air quotes around the words with her slender fingers. “By which I mean, we do all the work, and the company takes all the credit.”

“I hear that.” Maybe I didn’t know about being an executive assistant for a casino owner, but I knew all about being an underappreciated employee.

“Do you?” Shelley shoved the briefcase aside and set a stack of papers on the table. “Mr. Stevens, you seem like a smart man, and you’re obviously wealthy. But do you know the first thing about running a casino?”

“Please, it’s Roger,” I said as I straightened in the chair, suddenly interested in where this conversation might be headed. “And I’ll level with you. I have no idea how to run a casino … but I’m guessing that you do.”

“Very observant,” she said with another one of those tiny, flirty smiles. “I practically run this place already, and to tell you the truth, I’d like to continue doing that.” She leaned forward and pushed the papers toward me, giving me a generous view of her very fine cleavage. “So, if you’re looking to hire a general manager, I know someone who’s perfect for the job.”

“I must be looking at her right now,” I said with a smirk. “But what about Peter? Doesn’t he need you?”

She flapped a hand in the air. “I’m one of half a dozen executive assistants at the company, and I’m not even Peter’s personal assistant. In fact, she should have been here instead of me, but she took a vacation day today,” she said. “So, I’m hoping that makes today my lucky day.”

“You know, it just might be,” I replied. “Let’s say I’m interested in retaining your services. How much is it gonna cost me?”

“You’re worried about that? I got the impression that money was no object for you,” she said as she slid her chair back, stood and started around the table toward me, her heels clicking on the marble tiled conference room floor. “Don’t worry. I’m a bargain.” She circled behind me and started rubbing my shoulders in a way that made me hold back a groan of pleasure. “You give me a salary of five hundred grand, and I’ll make sure you take in a hundred times that much every year. Maybe even more.”

I could definitely get behind that kind of profit, especially since it was another source of real money. I didn’t even have to worry about making my investment back since Peter Loman was actually giving this place to me, which I still couldn’t believe.

“Well, Roger?” Shelley whispered in my ear, sending a shiver through me. “Do you think I’m worth it?”

I grinned. “Hell yeah, I do. You’re hired.”

23

A few hours later, I’d signed all the paperwork, and we were settled into our new temporary digs.

I’d made sure we had the fifth floor of the place to ourselves, offering free upgrades to the guests already staying there. All of us had our own suites, and there was still plenty of room on the floor to spare.

At the moment, Felicia and Maggie were outside talking to the contractors I’d hired at five times their regular rate to get started right away on rebuilding the base, and to work fast. For that price, the company had agreed to have three crews on rotating eight-hour shifts, so the construction would be going nonstop until it was finished.

There were just a few things I hadn’t filled them in on, like the crocodiles. That was what Felicia was explaining right now.

I had Cami and Marty in the main room of my suite, which I had to admit was really damned nice. The couch, loveseat, and chairs were butter-soft leather arranged on a thick plush carpet around an oversized coffee table, facing a plasma TV with stereo speakers that had to be at least seventy inches. There was a kitchenette behind the living room area, two bedrooms off the back of the suite, and a Jacuzzi in the giant bathroom.

“So,” Cami said as she leaned forward eagerly, showing a whole lot of the ‘anime character’ breasts I’d given her earlier. “What about this suit you want me to make for you?”

“I vote for an Iron Man suit,” Marty said as he fiddled with his phone, probably texting Lisa. I couldn’t blame him. She was the girl of his dreams, but for years he’d been too shy to even speak to her. Then he’d ended up saving her from an abusive boyfriend, and the rest was history. “You know, cool weapons, visor display, rocket boosters,” he added, tossing the phone on the couch next to him. “Awesome stuff like that.”

I nodded. “Something that goes together like the Iron Man thing, a suit that assembles itself, would probably be ideal. That way I could have it with me but not wear it all the time,” I said and looked to Cami. “But you’re the rocket scientist. So, you tell me what you can actually make?”

“Pretty much anything, given enough money and time, honestly,” she said with a smile. “But I’m definitely thinking nanites here. I’ve already worked with them on the voice command function for the pen, and I’d love to do this with nanites on a larger scale. It’d be self-assembling, and you could probably carry it in a briefcase or something.”

“A briefcase, huh?” I mused, trying to picture it in my mind. Mostly what I saw was the briefcase being kind of a pain to carry around, or possibly getting stolen. “What about something hands-free, like a backpack?”

“Yeah … that might work,” Cami said as she nodded slowly. “Scratch that, it’ll definitely work. If I make it out of the same polymer I used for the voice command suit, I’ll actually be able to incorporate the backpack into the armor.” She made an absent scribbling motion in the air and looked around for a minute. “Got a pen and paper somewhere?” she said. “I mean, not that pen. Just something I can write with.”

“Not on me, but I can get one,” I said as I produced my pen and wrote Cami has a notepad and a pen. When I finished the sentence, the items appeared on her lap.

She jumped a little and grinned. “Thanks.”

“Hey, hold on a second,” Marty said as Cami started scribbling away. “I thought this Presley guy was erasing everything you create.”

“He can if he knows about it, and for now, I don’t think he can,” I said with a shrug. “And I want to say it’d be really petty of this guy to get rid of a notepad just because I created it, but he seems like the petty type. So just make sure you get some actual paper and transfer your notes as soon as possible.”

Cami gave me a thumbs-up with one hand, while still writing with the other. “Okay, so I’ve got portability, backpack, weapons, visor display, rocket boosters,” she said as she made a last note and looked up. “What else?”

“Can you make it impenetrable?” I said, thinking of all those soldiers and all their guns. “I’m not really interested in being shot.”

“No problem. I’ll make sure that even the visor is bulletproof.” Cami wrote something down. “What about an AI? I can get Maggie to help me out on that, build a smaller version of the AI we had in the base. For stuff like temperature regulation, GPS, weapons guidance systems, probably motion detectors and proximity alerts. Yeah, we’ll definitely put that stuff in,” she said without waiting for me to confirm as she jotted down more notes.

I laughed. “I think you’ve got the idea. So, I’ll let you take it from here, and you can surprise me with whatever you put into it.”

“This is gonna be so cool! I can’t wait to get started on it,” Cami said, flipping the front page of the notepad back to start writing on the next page. “I just need to put a quick shopping list together.”

Marty raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, and where are you going shopping for all the stuff you need to build a high-tech weaponized suit of armor? Mad Scientists R Us?”

“Something like that,” she said, flashing a quick smile. “There’s plenty of places to get these things. You just have to know where to look. Okay, I think that should do it for now,” she added as she finished scribbling and tore the second page of the notepad out. “Who’s hitting Mad Scientists R Us with me?”

“What the hell, I’ll go with you,” Marty said as he got up from the couch. “I’ve always wanted to see where mad scientists shop. I’m sure Lisa will come, too.”

“Awesome. And let’s bring Vanessa with us,” Cami said as she folded the list and tucked it in her pocket. “I know she’s been saying she wanted a few new outfits, and I need more clothes that fit me and my new rack,” she said, adjusting the rack in question as she winked at me. “We can just turn this into one big shopping excursion.”

Marty groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, we do. And Lisa will love you for it.” Cami got up and stretched, bouncing on her toes a few times. “You can carry all of our stuff for us. Let’s go!”

I wished them luck, and Cami walked out of the suite trailing a reluctant Marty behind her.

Once they were gone, I settled back on the loveseat with my pen to try and figure out a more permanent solution for keeping Presley off my back. The line about no one being able to see what I wrote had faded even more. I wasn’t sure how much safe time I had left, but I knew it couldn’t be much.

I decided to start with the guy’s real name to see if it would take, and tried writing, Henry Aaron can’t use his pen. The line vanished instantly. I wrote Henry Aaron is in a coma, but that disappeared just as fast. Neither line worked when I substituted Presley for Henry Aaron either.

Maybe if I made it more general, like some of the lines that had worked before, it would stick. I switched to writing the person who’s after me instead of a name, but the commands winked from existence. Finally, I wrote, The person who’s after me believes I’m escaping to Canada.

That one actually stayed. I didn’t know if it was because I hadn’t used a name, or I’d related it to what Presley wanted, for me to leave Nevada, but I’d take it.

Just as I put my pen away with relief, thinking we might actually be safe long enough to rebuild the base and prepare to go up against Presley, there was a knock at the door of my room. I opened it to find Ronnie wearing one of the super-soft hotel bathrobes, looking at me with a hopeful expression. “Can I come in?” she said.

“Sure,” I grinned as I moved aside to let her in, and then closed the door. “What’s up? Is everything okay with your room?” I said, heading back toward the couch.

“Everything’s fine. I just … well, I have something for you,” she said.

“Oh yeah?” I stopped, turned around and looked at her. When I did, she opened the robe and dropped it on the floor.

She was completely naked beneath it.

My dick sprang to attention as she walked toward me, putting a little wiggle in her walk. Being a former Miss Tennessee, she really knew how to strut, and her breasts with those hard, dark nipples really were amazing.

“So, Roger,” she said as she slowly crossed the room with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I noticed that everyone else left, and I was hoping … well, that we could finish what we never got to start earlier. In the limo, I mean.”

I barely got the chance to nod before she was in front of me, dropping to her knees and undoing my pants. Her hands slid down, and she squeezed me just right, causing me to gasp and moan. “God, you’re really hard,” she said, sliding her other hand up my shirt. She shivered, and it made her nipples stand out even more. “All over.”

“Yes. Absolutely,” I finally said as I started to stand. “Do you want to go in the bedroom, or …?”

“Actually, I’d rather you fuck me right here. If you don’t mind,” she said as she looked up with a sexy smile that made me groan in pleasure. “I’ve always wanted to do it somewhere that I might get caught.”

I smiled back. “That works for me.”

24

I’d grabbed a shower before Cami and Marty got back, already missing the awesome perfect-temperature showers courtesy of Maggie’s AI that had been destroyed in the attack. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long before we were up and running again.

Once we’d set up a temporary lab for Cami in one of the conference rooms, I had everyone gather in my suite. I wanted to make sure they were caught up on the latest, and then introduce them to my new casino manager. I’d asked Shelley to come up to the suite in about twenty minutes after I’d had a chance to discuss things with my team.

“Well, first things first,” I said once everyone had taken a seat. “Presley won’t be looking for us here, at least not for a while. I don’t know how long it’s going to last, so we all need to stay alert for any sign of trouble. But hopefully, we’ll have some time to regroup, recover, and get back to normal.” As if there was anything normal about my life or my friends’ lives now, but what the hell? We were making a new, more awesome normal.

Skye raised an eyebrow at me. “So, if he’s not looking for us here, does that mean he’s looking somewhere else?”

“Yeah, I sent him on a wild goose chase to Canada. Figured that was a big enough place to keep him busy for a while,” I said with a smirk. “I think this command might be fading too, like the last one, but it’s taking a lot longer. We might have enough time to be ready.”

“I should only need a few days to finish the suit,” Cami said, rubbing her chin as she thought aloud. “I’ve got all the materials, and with me, Maggie, and Marty working on it, it’ll go pretty fast.”

“That’s great, and the bulk of the base should be finished in less than a week with the 24-hour construction schedule, which is great because we’ve been trying to keep the pen-related modifications to a minimum,” I said pleasantly surprised with the progress. At first, I’d just wanted them to build the barebones of the base, and then had planned to modify it, but I had no idea what the other pen bearers could do. No, doing this one without shortcuts was definitely the right path.

“Yep,” Amy said, glancing up from the behind the screen of her laptop. “They’re definitely on schedule thanks to all the money you’re paying them.”

The room laughed as everyone nodded their agreement.

“Yeah, money has a way of motivating people.” I smirked. “Now, about the Medallion. I told you what happened at the meeting, and that I hired the former owner’s executive assistant to run the place. She’s going to be here in a few minutes to meet all of you. But what I wanted to ask is, should we let her know about the pen?”

A murmur of discussion shot around the room, and Marty was the first to speak up. “I don’t know, man. It seems kind of dangerous to tell more people about it, and you keep ending up having to fight people who want to take it. I mean, first Wayne, and now Presley.”

“True, but they’re both pen holders,” I said as I considered my friend’s words. “So far, no one I’ve actually told about the pen has tried to take it from me. Maybe I’m just a good judge of character, but I don’t think Shelley is going to turn against me either.”

“Yeah, that might have something to do with the five hundred grand in salary you’re paying her,” Felicia said with a crooked smile. “Let me tell you that when I was a guidance counselor I’d have done way worse things for a lot less money.” She smirked.

“I think it’s just that we all know you’re a good guy,” Gail said, to nods and mutters of agreement. “There’s no need for any of us to betray you to get what we want because we only have to ask for something and you’ll give it to us.”

Marty laughed a little and waved a hand in the air. “Maybe so, but she’s already getting what she wants. So, why should we even bother telling her about the pen, right? It won’t make a difference whether she knows or not. Which means we might as well keep it between as few people as possible.”

“Actually, there is a reason I want to tell her about it,” I said. “The profit from this place is going to be another legitimate, real stream of revenue, and I want to make sure it’s as much as possible. So, I’m going to use the pen to make Shelley the best casino manager in the world and let her know so she can work with her new abilities.” I paused and looked around with a half-smile. “Unless any of you guys want to start spending fourteen hours a day running a casino and hotel?”

“Nah, man,” Marty said as more negatives and head-shakes came from the rest of them. “The job’s all hers.”

“Well then, I guess it’s settled,” I said, just before there was a knock at the door of the suite. “And it looks like she already has perfect timing down,” I added as I headed across the room toward the door. I looked through the peephole to make sure it was actually her and then opened the door.

Shelley gave me a dazzling smile. “Mr. Stevens. Roger,” she corrected immediately. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Not at all,” I said as I stood aside and gestured for her to come inside. “I wanted you to meet the team.”

She walked past me, and her smile turned to faint surprise. “Well. You certainly have a lot of team members,” she said as she looked at the other nine people in the room. “I haven’t seen any of them on the casino floor. Is this your backend team?”

“Actually, they don’t have anything to do with the Medallion. They’re working with me on something else, but I’ll explain that in a few minutes,” I said as I led her toward the group and started introducing people.

Shelley moved around the room, smiling and shaking hands, exchanging greetings with everyone. When I’d gotten all the names out, she came back toward me and regarded me with interested blue eyes. “So, what is it you all are working on?”

“Well, it’s a little complicated,” I told her. “The first thing you have to know is how I was able to help Peter’s daughter, offer to pay a billion dollars for this place, and pay your salary. There isn’t exactly a way to ease into this, so I’ll just come out and say it.” I smiled, knowing there was no way she’d believe me the first time I said it. “The thing is, I have a magic pen.”

To her credit, Shelley didn’t laugh, get angry, or threaten to call the men in white coats to take me away. She simply raised a sculpted eyebrow and folded her arms.

“A magic pen. Really,” she said. “Well, I have a stable full of unicorns.”

“Impressive,” I said, playing back with her for the moment. “I guess you’re one up on me because I can only make real things happen with the pen. Maybe you’ve got a few dragons and griffins in there, too?”

She laughed. “Yes, exactly. I also have a fairy godmother and a coach made out of a pumpkin.” She cocked her head slightly, then looked around the room and back at me as her smile faded. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” she added after a moment. “At least, you think you are. And your team believes it.”

“They believe it because it’s true,” I said as I pulled a folded piece of paper from my pocket and handed it to her. “This is what I wrote in the conference room when Peter left.”

She took the paper cautiously, like it might bite her hand, and unfolded it slowly. “Vera Loman’s medical treatment works and she … wakes up from her coma,” she read aloud, her voice losing strength as she got toward the end of the statement. She stared at the paper for a long moment, and finally glanced at me. “That’s impossible. You’re saying you can just write anything, and it comes true?”

“Not anything. Only things that could actually happen, that really exist,” I said as I took the paper gently back and tucked it into my pocket. “Like, I can’t make people fly or shoot lasers from their eyes. But I can make it possible for someone to build the technology to make that happen.”

“And this is a thing you’ve done. Had someone build you flying technology with laser eyes?” she said with a huge dash of skepticism.

“Yep. That’d be me,” Cami called out. “I’m the mad scientist around here. It’s not built yet, but I’m working on it.”

“She’s already made a bulletproof bodysuit, and a whole bunch of other cool stuff,” I said as Shelley continued to stare at me. “But I’ll tell you what. Let me give you a practical demonstration so you can see I’m telling the truth. Do you have a dollar bill on you?”

Shelley frowned, but she produced a slim wallet from her suit jacket pocket and fished out a dollar bill. “I don’t even know why I’m entertaining this idea. I guess it’s because you didn’t actually seem like a crazy person. But really, what are you going to do with this?” she said as she held the dollar toward me.

“You hang onto it, so you can see it’s not a trick,” I said with a grin as I got out my pen and a fresh piece of paper. “I’m about to give you a bonus.”

Before she could ask any more questions, I wrote, Shelley is holding a hundred-dollar bill.

“What kind of bonus?” she said, trying to look at what I’d written.

I nodded at her outstretched hand. “That kind.”

She glanced at the bill, and her jaw dropped as she pulled her arm in for a closer look. “Um. That’s …” She held the one-turned-hundred up toward the overhead light, revealing the color-changing security strip and the hidden image of Ben Franklin in the corner that marked it as genuine. “Holy shit,” she blurted and then clapped a hand over her mouth.

I couldn’t help laughing. “Trust me, I’ve heard worse language. And I definitely won’t fire you for swearing.” I smiled. “So, do you believe me now?”

Shelley nodded slowly and lowered her hand. “I think I’m starting to understand what your team does,” she half-whispered. “Security, right?”

“Something like that. But really, we’re more like family,” I said, deciding to leave the harem relationship out of it for now. That part wasn’t so easy to understand for an outsider, and at this point, Shelley was still a little on the outside. “Anyway. What I’d like to do now is … well, basically enhance the skills you already have. I’m not into changing people without their permission, so that’s why I had to tell you the truth and let you decide what you want for yourself.”

“You mean, like, make me the best casino manager in Vegas?” she asked quizzically.

I grinned. “How about the best in the world?”

“Absolutely!” she said without hesitation, grabbing my hand with excitement. “I mean, I’ve wanted this job for as long as I can remember. I already thought it was amazing when you gave it to me, but this …” She broke off with a gusty breath and a smile. “Yes, please. I’d love that.”

“Your wish is my command,” I said as I started writing.

25

“This really looks amazing,” I said to the construction foreman as we finished touring the sections of the base that had been completed so far. “I mean it. You guys are doing an incredible job down here.”

The foreman, Kyle Hendricks, grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, no problem. With what you’re paying us, it oughta look like the fucking Taj Mahal, know what I mean?”

“This is even better than the Taj Mahal. It’s perfect,” I said, looking around once more at the vast living area with multiple entertainment centers, private rooms, and hallways leading to bedrooms. “And I’ll tell you right now, there’s a fat bonus in it for all of you if this is done by the projected completion date.”

“You got it, Mr. Stevens,” Kyle said, his grin widening as he shook my hand. “I’d better tell the rest of the crew. A bonus on top of the fortune you’re already shelling out? They’re gonna love this.”

I watched him go with a lingering smile. My team and I had spent the last week relaxing, living large, and enjoying everything the Medallion had to offer, and then some. There’d been a ton of fantastic food, plenty of shopping trips, and even some culture and live entertainment. Not to mention lots and lots of sex. I’d made sure every one of my girls had been satisfied many times over. And of course, I had plenty of enjoyment myself. It was a nice change from fighting off armies that were trying to force the pen away from me, and such a far cry from what my life used to be, I could hardly believe it.

Best of all, Cami and the others had the new suit ready for testing. I wanted to test it out in the amphitheater, which was one of the last areas the construction crews would complete. Right now, it was still basically a gaping hole in the earth with drilling machines scattered around the perimeter, making it the perfect place to try out the suit’s functions and destructive capabilities.

I had a feeling I’d need to actually use the suit soon. The command I’d written about Canada was fading, slowly but surely. And unless I could think of something else to hold him off, Presley would be coming for me again in the near future.

Only this time, we’d be ready for him. In fact, I wasn’t planning to wait around for him to attack again. I intended to find him first and bring the fight to him.

I headed back up to the fifth floor to let everyone know it was time to move down into the base. As I stopped at everyone’s suite, I let them know the new security access codes for the entrances. Once the base was completed, I’d talk to Cami about the possibility of inventing some kind of force field in addition to the security locks and thick steel walls, just to make damned sure no one else could bust into the place with giant drill machines, or any other kind of brute force.

I grabbed Cami and Marty in the hallway, in the middle of all the moving activity. “Hey, can you guys come with me for a bit?” I said. “I want to try the suit out while there’s still unfinished space in the base.”

“Sure, let me just go get it,” Cami said as she glanced into the suite behind us, where Ronnie was packing a few things to take downstairs. “I think Maggie and Felicia were going to help me get the lab equipment packed up, so I’ll just ask them to start without me. Be right back.” She headed down the hall toward the conference room where they’d been working.

Marty smirked as he watched her rush off. “You know, she’s already started building a second suit based on her prototype,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know where she gets all that energy. The woman just never stops.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely energetic,” I said as I thought back to last night, when Cami and I had enjoyed some quality time in the suite after everyone else had turned in. We’d christened every single room, including the kitchenette.

“I’m not sure I want to know what you’re thinking about,” Marty said, nudging me with an elbow. “Man, I hope this contraption of Cami’s works. We really have to find this guy and stop him before he attacks us again.”

“Everything Cami’s made has worked so far. I don’t see why this one wouldn’t.” I shrugged. “And don’t worry. We’re going to find Presley. I’ve got Skye digging around online and hacking into every surveillance system in Vegas, keeping an eye out for the bastard.”

Marty nodded. “Good call. I just hope we find him first, you know?”

“Yeah, me too,” I said as Cami came bustling back down the hall, carrying a black backpack in her arms.

“I really think you’re gonna love this, Roger,” she said as she thrust the bag at me. “Here, put it on.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to suit up right here.” I laughed as I took the backpack and started putting my arms through the straps. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as I thought it would be.

“Nah. I just want you to see how it feels,” she said, watching me eagerly.

“Okay, sure.” I shrugged the backpack into place, and as it settled on my shoulders, the straps adjusted automatically to fit just right. The slight weight of the pack seemed to vanish as it balanced itself. “Wow, this is sweet!” I exclaimed. “Feels like I’m not even wearing anything.”

Cami pumped a fist in the air. “Yes! That’s exactly what it’s supposed to feel like,” she said as she grabbed my arm and started steering me toward the elevators. “Come on, let’s get downstairs. I can’t wait to see this thing in action.”

Marty tagged along, hustling to keep up with the pace Cami set, and we rode the elevator down to the basement level. I’d had Restricted Access signs put up on the doors leading to the wing with the entrance to the base, and a numeric security lock installed. I entered the code, and the doors popped open. Behind them was a short hallway, and a left turn brought us to the huge, vault-like door leading into the base.

“Remind me that I want to have a handprint scanner put in on that main door so all of us can open it,” I said as the massive steel door swung shut behind us.

“Oh, that’s a great idea! I need to write that down,” Cami said as she produced a pen and notepad. “I can totally upgrade the suit with biometrics, so only you can use it, Roger.”

I grinned. “That’d be awesome.”

After a quick stop around the current construction area to let the foreman know there’d be extra people down here moving things in, we made our way to the amphitheater. The place was still a wreck, but there was plenty of space to move around in and a bunch of heavy-duty moleman machines to use for target practice.

“Okay, check it out,” Cami said as we stopped in the center of the vast room. “Everything is voice activated, including the suit. Just say ‘suit up’ to put it on, and then ‘shut down’ to pack it back in.”

“All right, I’ll try it,” I said, nodding. “Suit up.”

I couldn’t exactly see what was happening, but I felt the backpack changing shape and spreading. Within seconds I was encased in the same type of bulletproof black polymer that she’d used for the skintight suit, but it was breathable enough that it didn’t flatten my clothes against me. The stuff didn’t cover my hands, feet, or head. Then there was the faint sensation of something moving all over the outside of the polymer. I held my arms out and watched as what looked like a bunch of metal plates swarmed all over the suit, building a loose shell of segmented armor. The plates formed rough gloves and boots, and then started to stack up in front of my face and over my head to create a helmet.

For a second or two, I was enclosed in complete darkness. Then blue lightning crackled across the surface in front of me, leaving a smoked glass eye slot that gave me full visibility. I watched as the electricity surged through the rest of the suit, fusing the segmented armor into a sleek black, solid surface with pneumatic joints in all the right places. Whatever the electric charge was, it wasn’t hurting me any.

Something flashed to my left, and I watched as a holographic text display just inside the helmet announced SYSTEM ONLINE with a blinking cursor after it. Within seconds, SYSTEM ONLINE changed to a small readout in the corner that showed my body temperature, blood pressure, and pulse, and the current temperature inside the suit, a comfortable 65 degrees Fahrenheit.

“This is fucking awesome!” I exclaimed as I extended an arm and flexed my fingers, watching the articulated finger joints of the armor move smoothly. “Can I still get to my pen the same way?”

Cami grinned and nodded. “Try it.”

I did. When I motioned for the pen, a small hole lensed itself open in the palm of the right glove and the pen shot out to land neatly in my fingers. “Oh, that is sweet!” I said as I flicked it back and watched the pen disappear the same way.

“Yeah, this baby has a lot of built-in sensors,” Cami said as she trailed a hand along the arm of the suit. “It should respond automatically to most things you want to do. And before you ask, the plasma discharge won’t hurt you. That was a positive electrical charge to fuse the nanites into a solid shell. When you deactivate the suit, it floods with a negative electrical charge to break them apart.”

“Oh, man, this thing is bangin’. I want one,” Marty said as he stepped closer to inspect the suit. “You know, you kinda look like Robocop. The reboot version.”

“Cool. I definitely need to check this out in a mirror,” I said as I flexed my knees, turned in a circle and took a few steps. Movement was easy and fluid. In fact, it still felt like the suit weighed almost nothing. “And it’s bulletproof, right?”

“Completely. Even the eye slot,” Cami said as she reached up and rapped her knuckles on the helmet. “Nobody’s getting through my baby.”

I nodded. “What about weapons?”

“Oh, that’s the fun part,” she said. “You’ve got concussive blasts, pulse lasers, and thanks to the nanobots scavenging the surrounding environment, guns with nearly unlimited ammo. Plus the rocket booster.”

“Rocket booster?” I said, raising an eyebrow even though no one could see my expression.

“Yep. It won’t let you fly, exactly, but you can lift off the ground and stay in the air,” Cami explained. “I was going for a balance between power and control, to make sure you can move around easily while you’re airborne. The suit’s too compact for a really powerful booster. Go ahead and try it, everything’s voice activated. Just say ‘rocket booster’.”

“Rocket booster,” I said. There was a kind of whooshing sound behind me, and I started to rise slowly from the ground. The motion was smooth and stable, and I stopped automatically to hover around seven or eight feet in the air. “Holy shit! This is amazing, Cami,” I said as I waved down at her and Marty. “Okay, I’m gonna try moving around a little.”

I leaned forward like Superman, and the suit propelled me forward. I moved slowly at first but accelerated evenly until I was flying at over thirty miles an hour. Faster than even Usain Bolt could run, but not so fast that I couldn’t focus on what was happening around me.

That was when I noticed I was flying straight toward a wall.

I turned my body instinctively and the suit moved with me, smoothly changing my course. It was so easy to steer, it was almost like the suit was reading my mind.

“This is great,” I called as I flew around the room, trying a few twists and mid-air flips. “One question, though. How do I land?”

Cami laughed. “Say ‘land’.”

I did, and I felt the engine of the suit power down slightly as I began to lose a little altitude. I got my feet under me in plenty of time to touch down, and the rocket booster turned itself off. “That’s really ingenious,” I said.

“Of course,” Cami said. “The commands are really simple. It’s blast, laser, or gun. Once you have a weapon armed, you can just push your hand out to fire.”

“Got it. I’m gonna try them out,” I said as I turned toward one of the drilling machines. “Blast,” I said, and a yellow targeting reticle appeared inside the helmet. I grinned as I sighted the operating turret of the machine and pointed my hand toward it as I opened fire.

I felt the energy surge through the suit and push out. The concussive blast hit the turret dead-on and half-crumpled it with a tortured scream of metal. “Damn, that has a lot of power,” I stared at the ruined turret. “Okay, let’s do another one. Laser.”

The targeting reticle turned blue. I focused on the turret again, and this time when I gestured with my arm, a beam of blue energy shot from my hand and blew the remains of the turret off the machine.

When I switched to gun, white lightning crawled around the right glove of the armor. As the glove started rearranging itself, the interior black polymer shell extended to form a skin-tight glove, and the armor formed a handgun that rested in my palm. “Now that is a cool trick,” I said as the targeting scope turned red and I sighted the side door of the drilling machine.

But when I pulled the trigger, there was a soggy clunking sound, and a bunch of black goop dribbled out of the gun’s barrel.

“Oh, damn it. That shouldn’t have happened,” Cami said as she rushed over and grabbed the gun from my hand. She turned it around a few times and frowned as she peered into the barrel. “What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to shoot bullets, not gunk.”

“Maybe it has performance anxiety,” I said with a laugh.

Marty chuckled as he approached us. “I guess you didn’t shock your gun hard enough, huh?”

“That’s it! Marty, you’re a genius,” Cami said as she handed the gun back to me. “I just need to build a positive micro-charge into the chamber, since it uses a negative charge to rearrange the glove. Take the suit off, Roger, I can fix that in like ten minutes.”

“Okay, okay. We’re not in that much of a hurry, though,” I said, laughing. “Shut down.”

As I spoke the command, more white plasma infused the armor as it broke apart into separate plates again, and then drew back and collected itself into a backpack again. I slid the straps off my arms and handed it to Cami. “Thank you,” I said. “This is perfect. It’s just what I need to take on this Presley guy.”

“You’re welcome. You can thank me properly later,” she said with a wink as she grabbed the bag and rushed off, talking to herself.

As Marty and I watched her go, he said, “That really is an awesome suit. I want one.”

“Well, you said she’s already making a second one, right?” I said with a grin. “You can have it. Maybe I’ll have her make one for everybody, and then Presley won’t have a snowball’s chance in hell against us.”

“How’s it going with him, anyway?” Marty asked. “Are we still safe, relatively speaking?”

“Yeah, so far,” I said. “He still thinks we ran off to Canada, or at least the command is still there. It’s definitely fading, so it won’t last forever. But I know we’ll be ready for him in time.”

Just then, Skye and Amy came in the entrance that Cami had just left through. “Hey, ladies,” I said as I walked toward them with Marty in tow. “What’s up?”

“Oh, you know. Just another day as an expert day trader, making a shitload of money,” Amy said with a grin. “But that’s not why we need to talk to you. Skye thinks she might’ve found something about Henry Aaron.”

“That might be the best news I’ve heard all day,” I said. “What did you find?”

Skye shrugged a little. “It’s not much. Honestly, it might be nothing,” she said, nodding at the laptop she carried in her hand. “The thing is, there’s a high-stakes poker game that’s kind of a semi-regular thing, and from what I can tell, Henry Aaron is involved somehow. Not directly, but on the backend or something. It’s a real long shot, but if you ask around, you might be able to get a line on him.”

“Okay, I’m interested,” I said. At this point, any lead was better than what I had. “Where’s the game being held?”

“Right here,” Skye said as she opened her laptop and turned it toward me so I could see the screen.

I stared at the photo of a massive gold-and-rose building with a very familiar name. “The Monte Carlo, huh?” I said. “So, you want me to go to Europe.”

“Yep. And even if the lead doesn’t pan out, you can just win the tournament,” Amy chimed in. “If I had an extra fifty million in seed money, I could turn it into a hundred times that much in about a week.” Then she winked at me.

“Now I think I understand why you want me to go,” I said with a laugh. “What’s the setup for getting into the game?”

Skye tapped a few keys on her laptop. “Well, it’s Texas Hold ’Em style poker, cash only, fifty players with a million-dollar buy-in and winner takes all,” she said. “But you don’t have to walk out of there with fifty million in cash, because they’ll wire the funds wherever you want. Right now, there’s only two spots left.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Want one?”

“Hell, yeah,” I said with a grin. “Monte Carlo, here I come.”

26

“Oh, yeah. Now I definitely feel like James Bond,” I said, martini in hand as I stretched out naked in the soft, oversized seat of the private plane about to land in Monaco. Only Gail and I were making the trip, since I was supposed to be incognito and I thought a big entourage would kind of make me stand out. Besides, I’d wanted to spend some alone time with her for a while now.

But once this Presley business was over, I’d definitely be interested in taking this trip with the whole team. They’d all love it.

Next to me and equally naked, Gail snuggled closer and sipped at her cocktail. We’d just taken advantage of the curtained back area behind the spacious seats and the wet bar to join the Mile-High Club, and now the whole cabin smelled deliciously like sex.

“Does that make me a Bond girl?” Gail said with a tiny smile.

“Sure, if you want to be,” I said as I slipped an arm around her. “Sounds like one of those Facebook quizzes, right? ‘Which Bond girl would you be? Answer these five questions to find out.’”

Gail wrinkled her nose. “Well, I know which one I wouldn’t be. Definitely not Pussy Galore.”

“Yeah, that’s not you,” I said with a smile. “You’re more of a Honey Ryder.”

“Really? I’m not so sure I want you to be Sean Connery’s Bond,” she said, laughing a little.

“So, you know your Bond, huh?” I grinned and sipped at the martini, enjoying how smooth it went down. The company I’d rented this Gulfstream jet from kept the bar stocked with top-shelf liquor, like the Bombay gin in my drink. They’d also handled all the details of the trip. We’d have a car waiting for us at the airport when we landed to bring us to the Monte Carlo. “Okay, how do you feel about Christmas Jones?” I said.

“Ooh, a nuclear physicist. And that’d make you Pierce Brosnan. Not bad,” she said as she trailed a hand along my arm. “But I think I’ll take Vesper Lynd, and you can be Daniel Craig.”

“Casino Royale. Appropriate,” I said, tossing back the rest of the martini. “Okay, Vesper, we should probably get dressed before our lovely flight attendant comes back here to refresh our drinks.”

Gail let out a small sigh, set her cocktail aside on the table and slowly uncurled from the seat. “I suppose,” she pouted. “But it’s kinda fun being naked on a plane, you know?”

“Definitely,” I said, watching her perfect heart-shaped ass wiggle as she walked around the seats and headed for the outfits we’d bought for the trip. I was trying to keep as many real things around as possible, just in case Presley managed to start erasing things again. Wouldn’t want to end up suddenly nude in the middle of a high-stakes poker game. I’d also brought along a briefcase with a million in cash for the tournament entry fee, and a small suitcase with the modified backpack suit and a change of clothing for each of us.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t need the suit. But I wanted to be prepared for anything.

After using the pen to clean us both up after a flight full of sex, I got up reluctantly and dressed in my tuxedo as Gail took her outfit behind the curtain so she could do the whole makeup and hair thing.

That was fine though because I still had a few things to write down before we landed. Once I’d suited up, I grabbed a seat and a pad of paper, and made myself the world’s best poker player, though I did already know how to play pretty well, in addition to giving myself a few other skills, like making myself a body language and lip-reading expert as well as a master statistician. I also gave myself and Gail the ability to speak French.

Gail emerged a few minutes later, looking absolutely drop-dead gorgeous in a form-fitting, dark green cocktail dress that flaunted all the right curves in all the right places. She smiled as she sat next to me. “Mm, you’re even sexier than Daniel Craig,” she said, licking her lips. “And believe me, that’s saying something.”

“You’ve definitely got Vesper Lynd beat, hands-down,” I told her. “Plus, you can speak French now.”

“I can?” she said. “Pouves-vous parler Francais aussi?”

“Oui, madam, mon Francais est magnifique,” I answered back.

“Sacrebleu! Je sais parler Francais!” she said with excitement. “This is so cool. Can you make me speak Italian, too?”

“You got it,” I said as I picked up the pad and wrote Gail can speak Italian.

She gave a slow blink as the knowledge settled into her brain, and then smiled. “Ah, grazie mille. I’ve always wanted to speak more than one language.”

“Hell, you can speak all of them if you want to,” I said with a laugh.

“Maybe not all of them just yet,” she said as she smoothed a tiny wrinkle from her dress. “But … yes, eventually, I think I’d really enjoy that.”

I thought it sounded pretty cool too and made a mental note to give myself the ability to speak all languages soon. Maybe after we got back to the base. Right now, I wanted to focus on winning the poker tournament.

It wasn’t long before the pilot announced we would be landing in a few minutes, and to please put our seatbelts on. The Gulfstream touched down so lightly, I hardly knew we’d hit the ground until I heard the engines winding down and felt our slowed speed. This was my first time on a private jet and I couldn’t be happier with the experience.

In fact, I planned on getting myself one or five of these things.

Less than an hour later, the luxury town car that had been waiting for us at the airport pulled up in front of the Monte Carlo. The tuxedoed driver got out and opened the door for me, and I climbed out with the briefcase and then held a hand out for Gail as she emerged with the suitcase.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” the driver said in a heavy French accent.

“Non, merci,” I said as I got my wallet out and handed him a hundred-dollar bill. “I’ll call the service when we’re ready to be picked up?”

The driver accepted the bill with a surprised smile. “S’il vous plait, monsieur, call me personally,” he said as he swapped the tip for an elegant little business card. “My name is Valentin, and I am at your service.” He gave a slight bow.

“Merci, Valentin,” I said as I pocketed the card.

I offered an arm to Gail, and we headed inside to find ourselves in a massive, breathtaking lobby with gleaming marble floor, huge columns and archways, and a high vaulted ceiling with a stained-glass skylight. Crowds of elegantly dressed people filled the space, most of them talking in English, French, or a mixture of both.

“Whoa,” Gail whispered as she clung closer to me. “This is just gorgeous! I absolutely love Europe. Okay, so where do we go?”

“The reception desk, I think,” I said as we started to make our way through the crowds. “Skye gave me a password phrase I’m supposed to say, and a numerical code I have to use for something.”

“How very Bond,” Gail laughed.

We reached the desk, and the petite blonde woman who called us over beamed from behind the glossy marble counter.

“Welcome to the Monte Carlo,” she said, her French accent light and airy, just enough to give the words a lilt. “Do you ’ave a reservation, or would you like to hear more about our available rooms?”

“Um, I’m not sure if we need a room,” I said as I recalled the password phrase Skye had told me. “I’d like to place a bet on 49.”

“Oh, oui, monsieur. Just one moment.” She picked up the desk phone in front of her, dialed three digits, and waited a few seconds. Then she said, “Allo, monsieur quarante-neuf est arrive.” She’d just told someone on the other end of the line that Mr. 49 had arrived.

She paused for another few seconds, and then hung up and flashed her brilliant smile.

“We have your room ready for you, monsieur,” she said as she produced a magnetic key card and swiped it through a machine on the desk. “You will be staying in suite 975, compliments of the hotel. Please enjoy your stay at the Monte Carlo.”

As she held out the key card, I took it with a confused frown. “Wait, are you saying the room is free?”

“But of course, monsieur. All of our tournament players receive free suites,” the clerk said with another bright smile. “Guest services will contact you with instructions when it is time for the tournament to begin.”

“Okay, wow. Thank you,” I said as I pocketed the card.

Gail thanked the clerk too, and we headed back across the lobby to where we’d passed the bank of elevators on the way to the reception desk.

“A free suite, huh?” she said, bumping me with an elbow. “I guess you’re a real high roller now.”

“Apparently. Comped room and everything,” I said with a grin as we turned and walked into the elevator bank. The huge nook held twelve elevator doors, six on each side, numbered one through twelve. People waited in loose groups in front of all but the number one elevator, which was completely blocked off with velvet rope dividers.

“Looks like that one’s out of order,” I said, nodding toward the blocked elevator.

Gail glanced over and shrugged. “At least there’s plenty more of them.”

We didn’t have to wait long to grab an elevator and whisk up to the ninth floor. When I opened the door to room 975, I was more or less expecting a standard hotel room. But instead it was pretty fucking amazing. It actually looked kind of like the Vegas hotel room from Rain Man, all sleek and contemporary with a glossy black floor, red leather furnished seating area, and behind it a huge raised platform in front of curved, floor-to-ceiling windows. A king-sized canopy bed stood in the center of the platform with a mirrored ceiling above it.

“Oh my God, this is gorgeous,” Gail breathed as she walked in ahead of me, and I closed the door behind us. “Look at this place! I’m totally checking out the bathroom.”

“Go for it,” I said as I moved toward the spacious seating area to check things out. There was a basket on the coffee table next to an ice bucket with a corked bottle and two tall, slender wine glasses. The small white card propped against the basket was printed simply with 49, so it was safe to assume it was meant for me.

I pulled the bottle from the bucket and looked at the label, which read Champagne Dom Perignon Vintage. That was the only brand of champagne I’d ever heard of, and I knew it was expensive. They’d apparently given me the bottle free. In the basket were three kinds of caviar and something called Carr’s water biscuits, some foie gras, whatever that was, and a box of Belgian truffles. So, basically, a small, edible fortune.

“Roger, you have to come see this,” Gail called from the bathroom doorway on the right side of the main room.

“Sure,” I said as I replaced the champagne in the ice bucket and headed toward her. “And after I check out the bathroom, we can drink our Dom Perignon.”

She laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yep. That’s our complimentary bottle, right there,” I said, jerking a thumb toward the coffee table. “Plus there’s caviar and truffles, stuff like that.”

“Wow, this place really goes all out.” Gail smiled and practically pulled me into the biggest damned bathroom I’d ever seen, done completely in marble and granite and featuring a massive, jet-black hot tub. “How about we have a nice, long soak in that while we drink Dom Perignon?”

“Mm, perfect,” I said, slipping an arm around her waist. “But I’d like to do a little more than soak.”

Gail flashed a seductive smile and started unbuttoning her shirt. “Me, too. I miss your dick,” she said as she reached out and grabbed it. “It’s been almost an hour.”

As it turned out, my dick missed her, too.

27

Several hours later, as Gail and I were lying naked on the huge bed in front of the windows eating the last of the melt-in-your-mouth truffles, the room phone rang. I groaned a little as I reached toward the table and answered it, not sure I wanted to move yet.

“Allo, monsieur,” a sexy female voice on the other end said. “We are now prepared to escort you to the Perrault Room for the tournament.”

I held back a small sigh. Not that I wasn’t excited about the tournament, but I really, really liked this room too. “Okay, sounds good. Is someone coming here, or…?”

“If you will please come to the lobby, monsieur, Durant will meet you at elevator number one,” the woman said. “He will escort you to your party.”

“Thank you,” I said. “We’ll be down in a few minutes. We need to hop in the shower first.”

“Of course. I will inform Durant,” the woman said.

I hung up and looked at Gail. “I guess it’s show time. You know what that means, right?”

“Yeah, it means we have to put clothes on again,” she said, sticking her tongue out as she rolled off the bed.

I got up, took a quick shower, put the tuxedo back on, and grabbed the briefcase containing the cash for the entry fee. It didn’t take long until Gail was showered and dressed to kill in a slinky number that really showed off her curves, and for a moment, I wanted to see how much better it looked on the floor. Still, we had a job to do. We headed back to the first floor and went to the elevator with the rope barrier.

“Maybe it’s not out of order,” I said as I looked at the closed door. This elevator was numbered like the others but didn’t have any floor indicators above it.

“Must be a private car,” Gail smiled. “I wonder how long we’ll have to wait for Durant?”

Just as she spoke, the elevator in front of us dinged and the doors slid open. Out stepped a slender, dark-haired man in a blue suit and white gloves, who gave us both a critical once-over before he nodded to himself and drew a slim electronic device from an inside pocket.

“Monsieur forty-nine, welcome,” he said smoothly, stepping up to the barrier on the other side to hold the device out toward me. “Please, if you would input your tournament code?”

The device in his hand was similar to a cell phone, but it was an inch thick and slightly longer than most phones. The only thing on the touchscreen was a numeric keypad. A small red light glowed at the top of the device. I entered the ten-digit number Skye had me memorize, and the little red light flashed green as the device let out a soft chime.

“Very good, monsieur,” Durant said as he pocketed the device, and then reached out to unhook the front rope of the barrier. He lowered the rope, stepped aside and gestured to the still-open elevator. “Please, come with me.”

Gail and I boarded the elevator, and I looked curiously at the control panel to the left of the doors. All the expected buttons were there for thirty-two floors, with a star next to the 1 and an S button that I guessed stood for sous-sol, basement. Below them were the standard door open, door close, and emergency call buttons. But there were additional rows of buttons at the top and bottom of the panel, all of them unlabeled.

When Durant joined us, he produced a ring of keys, inserted one into the slot below the control panel and gave it a half-turn, then pressed the unlabeled button in the center of the bottom row. The gleaming bronze doors slid closed, and the elevator started smoothly down.

“Please note that no weapons of any kind are permitted in the Perrault Room,” Durant said in a monotone as he stared straight ahead at the doors, which was kind of creepy. “If you are discovered carrying weapons, you will be removed from the tournament and the premises, banned from any and all future tournaments, and your entry fee will not be refunded. You may check anything you’d like with the attendant before you enter the Perrault Room, and your items will be returned to you at the conclusion of the event. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Um, okay. Thanks for the heads-up, Durant,” I said as I wondered why they even had rules like that. Some of these secret tournaments must’ve gotten dangerous in the past. Technically I hadn’t brought any weapons, just a polymer backpack full of nanites that could transform into a weapon. And I’d left that in our suite, so nothing should raise any red flags.

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open.

“The Perrault Room,” Durant announced, sweeping a gesture at the doors. “Best of luck to you in tonight’s event, monsieur.”

I thanked him, took Gail’s hand and stepped through the open doors. The elevator closed behind us almost as soon as we were clear, and we found ourselves in a midsized room with stone walls, cement floor, and two side-by-side steel doors, each equipped with security panels. There was a man seated behind a desk between the doors who looked up as we approached and fixed on a smile.

“Bienvenue, monsieur quarante-neuf. Welcome,” he said as he stood and gave me a nod, and then bowed to Gail. “If you would please present your entry fee?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said as I handed him the briefcase. It was a little weird having everyone call me Mister Forty-Nine, and I kind of hoped I’d get to use a secret code name or something when we got inside the room.

The attendant opened the briefcase, picked up one of the bundles of cash and thumbed through it, then replaced it and shut the case.

“Excellent, tres bon,” he said. “We will, of course, have it properly counted, but we trust that your fee is complete. Is there anything you wish to check and secure before you enter the game?”

Gail and I exchanged a glance, and I shrugged. “Nope. We left everything else upstairs.”

“Very well, monsieur.” The attendant went to the door on the left and punched in a security code. The steel door slid open to reveal a steel-walled room with a bunch of briefcases on one side, which I guessed were the other players’ entry fees, and an assortment of suitcases, coats, and various items on the other side, including about a dozen umbrellas, lots of shopping bags, and a huge pink stuffed bear.

I had to wonder who brought the giant teddy bear to an underground poker game.

The attendant placed my briefcase on the appropriate side, stepped from the vault, and tapped something on the control panel to close the door.

“And now, if you would please step over this way?” he said as he moved past the second door and pointed to a taped red X on the floor. “Please stand there, one at a time. Madam, if you please?”

Gail raised an eyebrow and stepped onto the red X. “What’s this for?”

“This is our scanning device, madam,” the attendant said as he pulled a small remote from his pocket and pushed a button on it.

A bright green spotlight shone down from the ceiling and covered Gail completely, turning her into a shadowy figure in shades of green and black. She gasped in surprise and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Wow, that’s really bright!” she said. “It doesn’t let you see through my clothes, does it?”

“Oh, no, madam,” the attendant said, sounding totally horrified. “The scan simply reveals whether there are any solid objects on your … er, person.”

Gail giggled as she blinked her eyes open and squinted down at her green-tone body. “No objects on my person,” she said.

“Apparently not, madam.” The attendant had averted his gaze and turned slightly red. He pressed the remote again, and the spotlight turned off.

“And now you, monsieur?” he said as he gestured toward the X.

I switched places with Gail, and the spotlight switched back on and flooded me with green. I squinted against the ultra-bright glow and waited, thinking I should really get one of these scanners for my base. This thing was pretty cool.

The light snapped off, and the attendant bent an elbow and pointed at his own forearm. “You ’ave something here, monsieur?”

“Oh, right. That’s my lucky pen,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t ask to see it.

The attendant held a hand out. “May I, please?”

Damn, this kind of sucked. I sighed and flicked my hand to produce the pen, and reluctantly held it out toward him. Now I knew how the midget felt when he’d handed me the pen, something I could tell he absolutely didn’t want to do, though I had no idea why at the time.

“I’m not giving it to you,” I said aloud, in case that counted enough to keep him from taking possession of the pen.

The attendant gave me an odd look as he plucked the pen from my fingers, turned it around a few times, and peered into the barrel.

“Forgive me for saying so, monsieur, but I would not wish for you to give me this … pen,” he said carefully, handing it back like it had a disease. The pen definitely looked old, beat-up, and worthless, which was the best kind of camouflage. “I do hope that it brings you luck.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling pretty lucky,” I said with a grin as I slipped the pen back up my sleeve with an inward sigh of relief. “So, did we pass your scan?”

“Indeed, you are quite acceptable.” The attendant went to the second door and entered a code. Instead of sliding back, this one swung inward with a low, hollow groan. “Welcome to the Perrault Room. Please, enjoy your stay.”

I held an arm out to Gail, and we walked through together.

28

The Perrault Room was massive, even bigger than the main lobby of the Monte Carlo. The walls were stone like the outer room, but the floor was plush burgundy carpet. Three enormous crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, which was painted with what looked like a replica of the Sistine Chapel. There was an actual fountain in the center of the room, all black and white marble with gold accents, topped with a trio of angels blowing arched streams of water from their upturned trumpets. Five massive, elegantly carved poker tables were placed in a rough circle around the fountain, and several sections of comfortable chairs were arranged for viewing by each of the tables.

There were easily more than a hundred people milling around the room, probably closer to two hundred, so some of the players must’ve brought multiple guests. A handful of the occupants wore blue uniforms and circulated through the room with trays of champagne glasses. The rest, for the most part, were dressed in high-class style and talked in low, pleasant tones while the soft murmur of classical music drifted around from unseen speakers.

“Well. I don’t know about you, but this is the biggest cocktail party I’ve ever been to,” Gail said softly, laughing under her breath as one of the blue uniforms headed toward us with her tray extended.

“Would you each care for a glass of champagne?” The waitress flashed a starlet smile at me.

“Thanks,” I said as we each took a glass of champagne, and Gail moaned in pleasure as she sipped hers.

“Oh, this is good. And still cold,” she said, doing a little shimmy of delight.

“Do you like it?” I asked, taking a sip of mine. I had to agree, this was pretty damned amazing, even better than the Dom Perignon had been, and I said that even though I wasn’t exactly used to drinking champagne and wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to taste like.

“I really do.” Gail nodded to me. “The bubbles just tickle my tongue.” She stuck said tongue out at me.

“Well, I agree.” I turned to look up at the waitress. “Excuse me, but this is delicious. Could you tell me what it is? I’d love to buy a case.”

The waitress smiled and nodded. “Of course, sir. This is thirty-year-old, cask-aged Boërl & Kroff Brut champagne. We recently purchased the 1996 vintage you are currently enjoying at auction for sixty-thousand dollars per case. Shall I have one sent up to your room now?”

Sixty-thousand a case? I knew the Dom Perignon couldn’t have cost nearly that much, but shockingly, this stuff still wasn’t out of my price range. I actually didn’t even have a price range anymore, since I could buy whatever I wanted.

“I can afford it,” I said, rubbing my chin. “That’s no problem.” When I said that, the waitress cocked a curious eyebrow at me. I knew I should be offended, but I just wasn’t. Instead, I wondered how she could tell. “Is something wrong?”

She glanced at Gail before leaning in close to me, whispering in a way that made me think she was trying to be discrete. “Sir, it’s just that you seem a bit out of sorts, so I’m guessing you’re not quite used to being so, well, well-off.” When I gave her a curious look, about to ask how she knew, she smiled slightly. “I know because, for starters, you’re actually talking to me.” She gave me a wink before smiling at Gail. “You have a good one here.” As Gail nodded and clung to my arm, she turned her attention back to me. “I will have the case brought to your room, Mister …?”

“Forty-nine,” I replied and took a sip of my five-thousand-dollar-a-bottle champagne.

“Excellent.” She nodded once more and turned, heading off, no doubt to put in my order, making me wonder if she got a commission.

“What was that all about?” Gail asked, watching her weave through the crowd, offering well-dressed patrons glasses while stopping to chat with them. Yep, definitely working on commission.

“She wanted to make sure I knew the champagne was five grand a bottle.” I shrugged. “It’s kind of strange being so rich it doesn’t matter.”

“I dunno,” Gail said, snuggling up to me. “I think I can get used to it.”

“Me too,” I said as I glanced at the ornate clock on the wall to the left. “Well, it looks like we have about an hour before the tournament starts. I guess we’ll just mingle, try to find out if anyone’s heard of Henry Aaron or Presley?”

Before Gail could respond, a distinctly Southern female voice behind us said, “Excuse me. Please tell me ya’ll are Americans?”

We both turned to find a couple in their thirties, the woman a blue-eyed brunette in a glittering dress the exact same shade of blue as her eyes, and the man a dark-eyed blond wearing a white tux.

The woman gave a brilliant smile, and said, “I’m so sorry to disturb you, but I’m just desperate to find someone I can talk to while my husband is playing this game, and I can hardly understand what any of these people are saying. Even the ones who speak English. Y’all are American, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we are,” I said and watched the woman practically deflate with relief. “I’m Joe, and this is Marilyn.” I didn’t look at Gail as I gave the fake names, since we’d discussed it before. Presley definitely knew my name, and it was possible he knew the names of my entourage as well. Sure, he wasn’t supposed to be here or anything, and we were a long way from Las Vegas, but why take chances? “And you are?”

“Oh, thank God. I mean, my name is Bella, and this is my husband, Beau. We’re from Texas, isn’t that funny? A couple of Texans at a Texas Hold ’Em tournament in Monaco.” She laughed nervously. “It’s so good to meet you. I’m sorry, I know I’m babbling, but …”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gail said with a smile as she took my arm, which I thought was a smooth move. We were just another misplaced American couple, nothing to get suspicious about. “It’s nice to meet you too, Bella. I’d be happy to talk to you while the boys play their little game.”

Bella let out another slightly worried laugh, while Beau sized me up and then offered a hand.

“Hey there, Joe,” he said in a deep drawl. “Always glad to meet another man who can afford to lose a million bucks.”

I shrugged and shook with him. “Yeah, I can afford it, but I have no intention of losing.”

Beau laughed loud enough to startle a few other guests standing nearby. “I gotta say, I like your style. Maybe you are the man to beat.”

“You can try,” I said with a grin and decided to dig for a little information while Bella and Gail were chatting away like old friends. “So, you don’t know anyone else at this little shindig?”

“Little shindig. I like that,” Beau said with another laugh. “Truth be told, me and the little lady come out here a few times a year, and usually we run into a few familiar faces. Not this time, though. Haven’t seen a soul that I’d like to talk to, except for yourself and your … Mary, wasn’t it?”

“Marilyn,” I said, glad to know this guy wasn’t the least bit interested in Gail. Not that I was worried about anyone stealing her, but I’d have to hurt him if he tried, and he seemed like a nice enough guy. “So, when you were here before, did you ever meet a guy named Henry?”

“Henry, huh? Well, I’ll tell ya, there’s a whole lot of Henrys in the world. And probably a bunch named Henri here,” he said, putting a horrible French accent on the name. “Does your Henry have a last name?”

“Yeah, it’s Aaron,” I told him.

Beau frowned slightly and tapped his chin with a finger. “Henry Aaron,” he mused. “You know, I guess the name does ring a bell. Never met any Henry Aaron, but it seems I did hear somethin’ about him ‘round here, a time or two. Can’t quite recall what.” He gave me a curiously tense look. “What’s this guy to you? He important?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty important,” I said with a laugh. “He owes me money.”

“Well, shit. I’d want to find the son of a bitch too,” Beau laughed as he relaxed again. “I’ll tell you what. I don’t recall what I heard about him, but it’ll come to me eventually. And I’ll regale you with the details when it does. Deal?”

“Absolutely. Thanks, man, I appreciate it,” I said as I glanced aside to check on Gail. She caught my eye and gave me a little wave around Bella, who was talking a mile a minute about the dreadful weather in Texas and how awful it was on her hair. “Looks like our ladies are getting along pretty well.”

Beau flashed a wide grin. “My Bella’s quite the talker,” he said with pride in his voice. “Drives her nutty when she ain’t got nobody to aim her mouth at. It’s real nice of your girl to keep her company like this.”

Bella turned suddenly and smiled at both of us. “Oh, I can’t tell you how glad I am that we met y’all,” she said. “I mean, can you believe it? All these high rollers, and hardly any of ’em speak plain English. Three or four, maybe, but not a single one’s as nice as you.”

Just then, I heard a female voice cut through the crowd in a high-pitched hiss. “Get your hands off me, you disgusting ape.” I followed the sound and saw a gorgeous young woman in a siren-red split cocktail dress, struggling to pull her arm from the grip of a leering, obviously drunk, much older man.

Anger shot through me. I hated to see any woman treated like that, and I wasn’t about to stand for it. “Excuse me a minute,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

Gail looked at me, and then toward the struggling woman. Her eyes narrowed, and she nodded, telling me she understood what I was going to do.

As I headed for the lady in the red dress, she stopped pulling and glared at the man who still held her arm. “Maybe you’re not getting the picture, but I am not part of the merchandise,” she said in a low, angry tone. “If you don’t let go of me, right now—”

“Then you’re going to have to deal with me,” I said as I reached them.

Both of them looked at me, along with several other people in the immediate vicinity. The woman gave a startled blink as her mouth fell open, and the drunk glowered angrily.

“Who the hell are you?” he said without a trace of an accent. He must’ve been one of the not-so-nice Americans that Bella had already met.

“That’s not important. What matters is that I’m her friend, and you’re obviously not,” I said as I took a menacing step closer to the guy. “So, if you don’t let go of her, I’m going to make you.”

“Oh yeah?” the drunk sneered. “And how are you gonna do that?”

I gave him a very unfriendly smile. “By breaking one of your ribs.”

His expression faltered when he realized I meant it, and as he tried to decide what to do, the woman said, “That won’t be necessary, because Mr. Granger has something else to do right now. Isn’t that right?”

The drunk huffed a breath, released her arm and took a stumbling step back. “Whatever. Just make sure my package is waiting for me like I said,” he muttered, giving me a final glare before he turned and wandered off into the crowds.

With the spectacle over, everyone who’d been watching went back to their business, and the lady turned to me with a hundred-watt smile lighting her face. Up close she was even more beautiful, with light green eyes, full red lips, and delicate features that softened with relief.

“Thank you so much,” she breathed. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re the only one who looked twice at what that bastard was doing, let alone said anything to him.” Her lips twitched as she said, “Were you really going to … you know, break his ribs?”

“I would have, if he didn’t let go,” I said as I returned her smile. “I really hate bullies.”

“So do I.” The tense lines of her body relaxed, but her eyes didn’t leave mine. “Well. Since we’re friends, do I get to know your name?”

“It’s Joe.” I said, making sure to keep my charade up for now. “Glad to hear we’re friends. I was a little worried you might resent me for saying that.”

“Are you kidding? You were amazing,” she said and looked away suddenly as faint color stained her cheeks. “Thank you, Joe. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Ann.”

I had the immediate feeling she was lying about her name, but that wasn’t exactly a huge deal. I’d lied too. Hell, everyone here probably used a fake name, since this tournament wasn’t an official event.

“I’m glad to meet you, Ann,” I said. “And dealing with Mr. Granger there was my pleasure. If you don’t mind my asking, what did he want from you, anyway?”

Something in her face shut down, and she shivered. “Nothing I wanted to give him,” she whispered as she averted her gaze. “It was supposed to be about business, but I … I’m sorry. I just can’t talk about it right now.”

“That’s okay,” I said, even though I was extremely curious about what kind of business a woman like her would have with a man like that. “Hey, listen, do you want to join my friends and me? We still have a while before the tournament starts, and I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

Her smile was incredibly sad. “I wish I could, but I’ve got more business to attend to before the games,” she said as she approached me slowly. “But first, I hope you don’t mind if I thank you properly.”

With that, she slipped her arms around me and pressed her body to mine. A powerful shockwave of pleasure slammed through me, and when she kissed me, it did things to my body I didn’t think it was possible to feel. It reminded me of the first time I met Agent Smith, only this feeling was a hell of a lot stronger.

“Damn, that was incredible,” I said breathlessly as she pulled back. “And you’re still very welcome. I hope that wasn’t goodbye?”

Ann gave a real smile. “Not at all. I’ll be here for the whole tournament, and I bet we’ll see each other at the finals table,” she said as her fingers trailed down my arm, leaving shivery lines of heat in her wake.

“You’re a player?” I said, unable to hide my surprise.

“Oh, yes. I happen to be very good at poker,” she said, standing on tiptoe as she leaned toward my ear and whispered, “That’s not the only thing I’m good at. Maybe sometime I can show you a few things I’m even better at than poker.”

I swallowed hard as her breath feathered my ear. “I’d like that.”

“I like you. A lot,” she said. “See you around … Joe.” She offered a little wave as she turned and melted into the crowds.

I stood there for a few seconds like a dumbass before I headed back to Gail and our new Texas friends. I could still feel the heat of her lips on mine, and the touch of her fingers through the suit jacket. And once again, I found myself thinking of Agent Smith, how I’d felt after one simple touch.

When I got back, Gail slipped an arm around my waist and hugged me. “You’re awesome, do you know that?” she said as she smiled and kissed my cheek. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. That asshole left her alone,” I said. “If he tries anything else, he’s going to regret it.”

Bella gave me another one of those beaming smiles. “Well, aren’t you just a perfect gentleman? Y’all would fit right in down South.”

“I woulda given you a hand with that animal, but it looked like you had things under control,” Beau said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Now, how about we all hit that fancy buffet spread up at the end of the room?”

I grinned. “Now that you mention it, I’m starving.”

I looked for Ann as we wound through the room, headed for the back, but didn’t see her anywhere. She must’ve been taking care of whatever business she had here besides playing poker. But I thought she was probably right that we’d see each other at the finals table. And I was already looking forward to that.

29

Tournament play was a simple two-round setup. Fifty players, five tables with ten players each for round one, and the winner at each table would advance to the five-player final round. I noticed Ann at the table to my right and was glad I didn’t have to play her this round. It’d be a lot more fun facing her in the finals.

Beau and I got seated at the same first-round table, and I kind of felt bad about beating him, right up until I saw him play. He was actually really bad at poker and was the second player eliminated when he went all-in on a junk bluff. But he seemed to be having fun, at least, and he left the table laughing to go sit with the girls.

I guessed a million dollars really wasn’t that big a deal for him.

Of course, I didn’t exactly need the money either, but I wanted to win. And I was finding it embarrassingly easy. With my pen-enhanced poker skills, I not only knew which cards to hold or keep and exactly how and when to bet, but also when the other players had good or bad hands. All of their tells, every twitch and grimace and slight shift in body language, stood out to me like neon signs that announced everything in my hand is garbage or hot damn, I just built a straight flush.

My only real challenge was making myself lose just enough so it didn’t look like I was completely dominating the game.

In the end, my first-round table came down to me and a skinny French guy called Pyrro. Most of the other tables still had three or four players seated, despite my attempts to lose a few hands and keep the game going longer, so I strung Pyrro out for another six hands, playing it cautious and mostly folding on the turn or the river, or when my opponent raised too high, until I decided to make the last grab.

By the time I cleaned out Pyrro with four of a kind to his full house, one other table had wrapped up and the rest were down to two players each. Ann was still playing, but with a mountain of chips against her opponent’s three small stacks, so I figured she had it in the bag. I headed for the guest seats while the attendants cleared the area and transferred my chips to the final table.

“Well, sir, you played one hell of a game,” Beau said as I approached Gail and the couple from Texas. “I guess when you said you were gonna win the whole damned thing, you meant it! So now I gotta ask.” He grinned. “Why haven’t I seen you at any of our other little shindigs?”

“Honestly, I’m more of a Vegas man myself,” I said, sharing a smile with Gail. “So what happens now?”

Before anyone could answer, the unseen overhead speakers chimed once, and a man’s voice broadcast through the room. “Round one of our tournament has now concluded,” the announcer said. “The final players are numbers three, fifteen, nineteen, twenty-seven, and forty-nine. Please enjoy the refreshments at our buffet table during the break. The final round of the tournament will begin at precisely ten o’clock. Players, please ensure that you take your seats ten minutes before the final round begins. Thank you.” There was another chime, and the announcer started repeating everything in French.

“I guess that’s what happens now,” Gail said with a laugh. “Shall we eat, then?”

“Hold up. Would you ladies mind goin’ on ahead of us?” Beau said as he gave me a serious look. “There’s somethin’ I’d like to discuss with Joe here, real quick. We’ll be just behind you.”

Gail looked worried for a second, but I smiled and kissed her cheek. “Go on. Everything’s fine,” I said, thinking I knew what he wanted to talk about. I hoped I was right.

“Fine, y’all have your little boys’ talk,” Bella said with a smirk as she grabbed Gail’s arm and steered her away. “Come on, honey, let’s go grab all the good stuff before these slowpokes get to the table.”

Once they were gone, Beau jerked his head and wandered off toward the back of the seating area, where there was no one around. When I joined him, he looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us, and then said, “I remembered where I heard the name Henry Aaron.”

I gave a silent cheer. That was exactly what I was hoping he’d say. “What do you know about him?” I asked.

“Nothin’ good, my man,” he said with a solemn shake of his head. “Tell the truth, if he really owes you money, I might be a little scared of you.”

“Don’t worry. I’m one of the good guys, I promise,” I said, trying to smile reassuringly.

Beau laughed with a nervous edge. “Okay, here’s the thing,” he said, glancing around again. “You get these underground tournaments, you also get a lot of illegal shit going around. Like drugs, but not your basic stuff. I mean, I’m not opposed to a little weed now and then, know what I mean? But around here it’s heavy, expensive, hardcore designer crap, things that’ll fuck you up for a week straight. And from what I hear, Henry Aaron is the major supplier.”

“Damn,” I said flatly. Well, at least that explained a few things, like why he had so many guys working for him, and how he could afford to get his hands on advanced equipment like those drilling machines. As a pen holder with a pen that erased things instead of creating them, there wasn’t much opportunity to make money, so he was financing his little war for Nevada with a designer drug operation. “So, he doesn’t actually come to the tournaments, he just deals drugs to the high rollers?”

“Exactly. This asshole’s got operations in Monte Carlo, Vegas, Atlantic City, hell, even London and the Bahamas,” Beau said as his expression twisted. “Whenever there’s a meet-up like this, he’ll dispatch a couple of honeys to circulate among the players, make arrangements with the regulars, and hit up the playboys to find out who’s got money and who’s looking to party. Had one of ’em approach me a few years back, but you know me. I only have eyes for my Bella.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I said, immediately thinking of Ann and the ‘business’ she had to take care of between games. “Is the girl who approached you here tonight? It’s not that woman in the red dress, is it?”

“Nah, it wasn’t her. I definitely would’ve remembered that,” Beau said with a grin. “I’m married, not dead. But I haven’t seen the girl I talked to around this time.” His expression went solemn again. “Last time I saw her a few tournaments back, she was plastering the makeup on pretty heavy, if you catch my drift,” he said darkly. “Rumor has it this Henry bastard’s got a vicious temper, and he likes to take it out on the ladies.”

I already had plenty of reasons to hate Henry Aaron, but now I knew for sure that I had to end him.

“You don’t happen to know where I could find this guy, do you?” I said as I tried to remain calm despite the anger burning through me.

“All I know is he operates somewhere near Vegas,” Beau said, giving me a strange look. “You’re really going to go after this guy, aren’t you? Because you’re crazy if you do.” He shook his head. “How much money does he owe you, anyway?”

“More than he can afford to pay,” I said through clenched teeth, and then forced myself to relax and smile. “Thank you, Beau. This really helps me out a lot,” I said. “Now, why don’t we go join our ladies, before they decide to go shopping or something?”

Beau laughed and clapped me on the back. “Good call, friend. And I’m glad I could help … but I still think you’re crazy.”

Maybe I was, but there was no way I’d let Henry Aaron get away with the ever-growing laundry list of crimes he was committing. And he was probably into even more shit I didn’t know about. It was way past time someone took him out of the equation, and if the FBI couldn’t handle it, then I would.

As we headed toward the back of the room, Beau said, “So, are you gonna let me in on your secret?”

My heart missed a beat. “What secret?” I said cautiously, wondering if he somehow knew about the pens. I’d actually be disappointed if this was all a ploy to get close to me, because I genuinely liked the guy.

“How the hell you play poker like that,” he said with a laugh. “You probably noticed I’m not exactly a master poker strategist.”

I grinned. “Yeah, I did kinda notice that. Why do you even come to these games, if you’re ... you know, not so great at this?”

“You can say it. I suck,” he said, smiling as he shook his head. “Thing is, I always wanted Manny there to sell me his baseball team, but the only way he’ll do it is if I beat him.” He spread his hands. “You see how well that’s going.”

I looked around. “Who’s Manny?”

“That rat in a suit, over in the corner sucking down all the champagne,” he said, nodding at a man with an angular face and overly large teeth. “He’s in the final round. Always makes it at least that far, and sometimes the bastard wins.”

“Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll beat him for you and make him sell you his team. Deal?”

A wide grin spread on Beau’s face. “You kidding me? Hell yeah, it’s a deal! My man,” he said, thrusting a hand at me. When I took it, he pumped it hard three times. “I’m glad we met, Joe.”

“Same here,” I said, hardly believing I was officially buddies with a billionaire.

We finally reached the ladies and grabbed a few plates of food. While we waited for the final round to start, I tried to catch Ann so I could ask her if she knew Henry Aaron. Or if she worked for him. Though I wanted to, I couldn’t quite dismiss the possibility, since the guy who’d been molesting her had mentioned a delivery and sure as hell seemed like for some reason, he thought he had the right to take liberties with her. He could just be an asshole, but I still wanted to rule Ann out as a possible connection to Presley.

Unfortunately, every time I saw her she was either talking to someone else or hurrying somewhere with a purpose. I’d try to catch her at the table in the ten minutes before the final round started, and if that didn’t work out, I’d just hang around after the game ended.

When it was time to get started, Gail kissed me for luck and I left her with Bella and Beau to make my way to the finals table. I was the first one to get there. Each of the five seats with chip trays in front of them had labels with player numbers, and my forty-nine was at the far left next to player number three. I had no idea what number Ann had, but I smiled when I saw her approach the table and take the seat next to me.

“Hey, there. Good to see you again,” I said. “You must’ve signed up for this thing pretty early to get the number three spot.”

The smile she returned to me was a little tired. “I’m always early. I like to be prepared,” she said as she smoothed her dress and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “By the way, I hear you’re going to give me quite the challenge. They’re already calling you the best poker player since Bat Carson.”

I had no idea who that was, but I played it off with a modest shrug. “I guess I’m not bad,” I said. “Hey, listen. Before we get started, can I ask you something that’s going to sound totally out of left field?”

A look of alarm flitted across her face, but she tucked it away behind a blank expression. “Sure, go ahead.”

I took a slow, deep breath. “Do you know a guy named—”

“Excuse me, madam,” an unfamiliar, accented male voice said directly behind me, cutting me off. “Apologies for the interruption, but you have an emergency phone call.”

Ann and I both glanced at the attendant, who was standing there nervously and ramrod-straight. “What kind of emergency?” she half-whispered as the color drained from her face. “Do you know who’s calling?”

“I’m afraid I do not, madam,” the attendant said. “We’ve only been informed that it’s quite urgent. You can take the call on our courtesy phone, just outside the Perrault Room.”

Ann swallowed with an audible click. One hand flew to her throat, and she stared at me with dull eyes as she pushed her chair back slowly and stood. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “J-Joe, I … it was an absolute pleasure meeting you. Please believe me.”

With that, she whirled and fled toward the exit.

Surprised murmurs and whispers erupted around the room as Ann rushed away from the table. I stared after her for a minute, thinking about the way she’d reacted and what she said when she left. It seemed like she already knew not only who was calling and why, but that whatever the call was about, she wouldn’t be coming back to the game. That much was obvious.

What I couldn’t understand was why she’d begged me to believe it was a pleasure meeting me. I hadn’t gotten the impression that our meeting bothered her. In fact, it was definitely the opposite.

I had a sinking feeling that she was somehow involved with Henry Aaron. But if that were true, she seemed less than thrilled about it. I couldn’t blame her after what I’d heard from Beau.

Five minutes later, the nervous attendant who’d told Ann about the phone call came back to the table and whispered something in the dealer’s ear. When he finished, the dealer nodded and stood.

“Regrettably, player number three is unable to participate in the final round,” he said as he nodded to someone off to the side. “Her chips will be divided among the remaining four players, and the game will continue.”

As the dealer started to repeat what he’d said in French, one of the other dealers came to the table next to me and started stacking Ann’s chips on the table. I almost wanted to leave the game myself and go after her, try to catch her and find out what was going on, but she’d be long gone by now.

Instead I decided to focus on winning this poker game.

While the attendant passed out the extra chips, I used my pen to give myself everything I needed to know about the players at the table. Manny, the guy with the sports team who was now to my right instead of Ann, had a bit of a sore spot because he’d been too cheap to give his previous pitcher, Ray Waldon, a raise. So Waldon had left the second his contract was up. His replacement, Johnny Esteban, sucked rocks … and Manny knew it, but he was still pissed that Waldon had the gall to ask for more money in exchange for playing his ass off and getting the team to the Series three times.

The next poker player at our table, Thurston, was uneasy about being in this game because his third-quarter portfolio earnings were down a few million more than he wanted, but he thought he could bluff his way to winning and recover his losses, because the few billion he was worth just wasn’t enough. Finally, at the end, Greg was a pharmaceutical executive who was by far the worst of the lot. I might have been here for other reasons, but damn if it wasn’t going to feel good taking down a man whose faked drug trials put profits over lives.

As the game started, everyone played conservatively for first several hands. I went along with it, keeping a close eye on Thurston and watching for his bluffs. I even let him take the pot with a bluff a time or two, making sure he was complacent.

Then the opportunity came along to force him out of the game, and I took it.

I had a pair of eights in the hole, and the dealer had turned up an eight on the flop and another on the turn. Everything else on the table was crap. When the second eight came up, both Greg and Manny folded, but Thurston hung in there and kept tapping a finger on his hole cards every time he checked or raised, a telltale sign he was bluffing.

When the river turned up a useless three of clubs and the bet came to me, I let out a sigh and feigned worry, peeking at my hole cards and staring from the pot to Thurston’s chips. Finally, I pushed a hundred thousand into the pot and gave Thurston dare-you look that suggested I was trying to bluff him. He responded by tapping his hole cards and adding a hundred thousand of his own, then raising another two hundred thousand. It was a classic aggressive bluff strategy, and I would’ve seen right through it even without the pen helping me.

I let out a low, mocking whistle. “That’s a pretty rich bet, Thurston,” I said. “Sure you want to risk that much? I heard your portfolio’s a little on the rocks, if you know what I mean.”

He looked at me, angry and indignant. “Just who the hell do you think you are? Who have you been talking to?”

“Oh, you know. People who matter,” I said as I fiddled with my chips, added two hundred grand to the pot and raised him another hundred grand. “People who can afford to lose a million or two.”

Thurston didn’t hesitate. “All in,” he growled, shoving his remaining chips into the middle of the table.

I held back a grin, since that was exactly what I wanted him to do, and once again feigned worry, checked my cards, and stared at the pot. I released a slow breath as I pretended to count my chips, and finally matched his bet by counting out the correct amount slowly. “I guess I’ll call,” I said.

Thurston’s mouth fell open for a few seconds. Then he recovered with a brittle smile. “You’re bluffing,” he said. “And you’re terrible at it.”

“Really? Because I thought you were bluffing, and you’re terrible at it,” I said as I fingered one of my cards, then turned it over and flicked it forward on the table. “Oh, look, three of a kind,” I said, relishing the look of horror on Thurston’s face. “But wait, there’s more!” I said as I turned over my second eight and sent it to join the first. “Gee, that’s too bad for you. Thanks for the chips, Thurst’.”

Suddenly there was a burst of laughter and applause from the audience as Thurston turned bright red and started sputtering. Without even bothering to turn his cards over, he shoved his chair back, stood and walked stiffly away from the table.

“Player 19 has been eliminated,” the dealer said in a monotone as he rounded up the cards and I collected my pot. “Game play will continue.”

Not long after that, Greg the pharmaceutical executive was forced from the game on a hand I folded from early on, when he went all-in on a straight against Manny’s full house. That left me and the cheapskate baseball team owner, and I was determined to get his team along with his money.

“Hey, Manny,” I said as he raked in his pot from defeating Greg and the dealer announced that game play would continue. “How about a little side bet?”

A faint sneer flashed across his face, but I doubted he’d even realized it. That was just his natural expression when someone who wasn’t known to be terribly important addressed him. “Why would I possibly want to make a side bet with you?”

“Because if you win, I’ll triple your jackpot,” I told him. “I’ll give you a hundred million on top of the fifty mil prize.”

One of his eyebrows went up, and he froze in the middle of stacking chips. I could practically see the gears in his head turning. He was too damned smug to believe he could lose. “And in the extremely unlikely event you win …?” he said, trailing off like my losing was a foregone conclusion.

“Then you agree to sell your baseball team to my friend Beau, over there,” I said and flashed a grin. “See, I figure he’ll make a hell of a lot better owner than you, because you should’ve kept Waldon. Esteban sucks, and you’re never gonna taste a single Series game again.”

Manny bared his teeth at me. “Fuck you, and fuck Waldon. You’re on.”

I already felt pretty damned good about being able to sell Beau the baseball team I was about to win.

Manny and I went three hands without exchanging more than a handful of chips between us, and I could tell he was trying to read me. So, I started switching things up, throwing out crazy tells that didn’t actually point to any pattern of good or bad hands. Meanwhile, my pen-enhanced skills told me exactly what kind of hand he had, every time.

By the sixth hand, Manny started to get aggressive. He tried to go all-in on a strong hand, but when I folded on him and he revealed he’d been sitting on four of a kind, he got pissed. “Are you going to sit there and jerk off all night, or are you going to play goddamned poker?”

“Oh, you want to play poker? And here I thought this was a knitting class,” I said, drawing another good laugh from the audience. “Okay, I’ll tell you what. Let’s both go all-in on this next hand, sight unseen, before we even get our hole cards. Winner take all.”

Manny’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. “Are you insane?”

“Hey, all you’ve got to lose is a million bucks and a lousy baseball team,” I said with a shit-eating grin. “Come on, Manny. I thought you were good at this game.”

I knew he couldn’t back down from such an outrageous challenge, and he didn’t. “Fine. I hope you can actually afford to pay me a hundred million, because I absolutely intend to collect,” he said as he started pushing his chips toward the center of the table.

“Don’t you worry about that,” I said as I produced my pen and wrote I get dealt the winning hand on my palm. After I finished, I added all my chips to the pot. “If you win, I’ll not only give you the money, I will literally get down on my hands and knees and kiss your feet.”

“You won’t win,” Manny said angrily. “I hope you enjoy tasting my shoes, because they cost more than your entire net worth, you little nobody.”

I laughed. “Whatever you say, Manny.”

The dealer watched our little argument impassively, and then dealt the hole cards. I ended up with the ace and jack of clubs, and from Manny’s non-expression when he looked at his, I figured he had a pocket pair, probably high. This would be even better if he ended up thinking he’d won.

On the flop, the dealer turned over the king of clubs, the king of diamonds, and the four of hearts. Manny’s face lost every trace of emotion, and it was all I could do not to laugh. I’d bet anything he had four of a kind, which meant the turn and the river were going to turn up the two cards I needed for a royal flush.

Sure enough, the turn produced the ten of clubs, and the old maid came up on the river. Of course, despite the obvious possibility, there was no way Manny would even consider I’d built the flush.

He broke into a grin when the last card was flipped. “Where do you want me to stand so you can kiss my feet?” he said.

I assumed a crestfallen expression. “Come on, man. We haven’t even shown our cards.”

“You might not want to bother,” he said as he turned over one king, and then another. The audience, which had gone silent since I suggested the crazy no-peeking bet, gasped in unison. “And let me tell you something … Joe, isn’t it? Your hundred million is nothing to me. I could wipe my ass with a hundred million and never notice the loss. But it’s going to hurt you, and that’s the only reason I took your ridiculous bet in the first place.”

I lowered my head, and my shoulders started to shake. I could feel the cold satisfaction radiating from Manny as he assumed I was crying, right up until I choked out a laugh and kept going until I was holding my sides and bellowing laughter.

“Oh, Manny. You’re so damned predictable, it hurts. Did you know that?”

As he stared at me, I reached to the table and turned over the jack of clubs. “You want to make another bet?” I said, tapping the last facedown card. “Tell me what this card is, and I’ll stop humiliating your arrogant ass.”

All the color drained from his face. “The ace of clubs,” he whispered.

“Good job, Manny. At least you won something,” I said as I flipped the card over.

The audience erupted into cheers, and Manny went from utter confusion to a genuine smile. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but … well played,” he said and extended a hand toward me.

Okay, I didn’t expect that. I flashed a grin and shook with him, because despite his arrogance, he really was a good poker player. “You too,” I told him. “No hard feelings about the baseball team?”

“Not really. I actually am a terrible owner,” he said as he grinned. “Tell you the truth, I only kept the team because it was pissing off the other owners. I fucking hate baseball.”

I laughed hard enough to hurt my sides. “In that case, I’m happy to relieve you of ownership.”

One of the attendants took my information to transfer the jackpot, and as the post-tournament crowd swirled and people shook my hand and patted my back, I mumbled thanks and pleasantries. As I made my way back to Gail and the Texans, all three of them were grinning like fools, and Gail threw her arms around me and treated me to a deep, hot kiss.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen, and I don’t even like poker,” she said.

I smirked and gave a half-shrug. “Guess I just got lucky.”

“Lucky, my ass!” Beau bellowed happily. “I only got one question for you, Joe. How much do you want for getting me my team?”

Bella flapped an impatient hand in front of him. “Y’all can talk business later,” she said, flashing a sugary smile. “Marilyn tells me that you can help out with my charity, so I wanna strike while the iron’s hot. Beau, sweetheart, why don’t we all go and talk about this on the yacht?”

“That’s my Bella. Always thinkin’ ahead,” Beau said as he threw an affectionate arm around his wife. “And she’s right, as always. You two should come out to the yacht with us. In fact, I insist.”

I blinked at him. “You mean right now?”

“Why not?” he said as he spread his hands out. “Game’s over, so there’s nothin’ more to see here. We can be on my jet in thirty minutes. What do you say, Joe?”

I glanced at Gail, who nodded so excitedly that I was worried her head might fall off. “All right, you’re on,” I said. “Let’s go hang out on your yacht.”

30

Sixteen hours later, we were on a giant fucking yacht on Galveston Bay in Texas, watching the sun rise over the water while we drank mimosas and ate caviar and cold lobster, which was apparently a normal breakfast for Beau and Bella.

As it turned out, those were actually their real names. I kind of thought that was hilarious since Beau and Bella sounded like a made-up Disney couple or something. Gail and I had come clean about our names because we were away from the tournament and didn’t have to worry about our presence there somehow getting back to Presley.

I still couldn’t stop occasionally thinking about Ann, wondering what kind of emergency had taken her from the tournament even though I had a feeling I knew. From what I could tell or guess about her situation, she needed rescuing from more than just Mister Grabby Hands.

At least I knew that would happen once I took down Henry Aaron for good.

From Beau’s private jet, I’d checked in with the base, transferred the fifty million to the main account so Amy could add it to her investment strategy, and filled in Skye with what I’d found out about the guy from Beau. She was setting up a search for any information on major drug operations in and around Vegas, complete with hacked access to surveillance and traffic cameras, police databases, and anything she could think of to add to the algorithms. But it was going to take a while for all the information to compile.

Meanwhile, I guessed Gail and I were going to hang out on this yacht for a while.

“Well, now, isn’t this just a peach of a morning?” Bella said as she leaned on the yacht railing, sunglasses in place and mimosa in hand. “I do love a good, warm breeze.”

Next to her, Gail closed her eyes and lifted her face to the gentle wind. “Me, too. This is amazing,” she said. “Thanks so much for having us, Bella.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Bella said, flapping a hand in dismissal. “I just can’t believe you’re willing to give so much to our little charity, Roger. You have no idea how much good your hundred million is going to do.” She nodded emphatically. “I’ll make sure to have our people send the paperwork to the Medallion first thing tomorrow.”

“Uh, yeah. No problem,” I said from my ultra-comfy deck chair across the way from the ladies, where Beau sat next to me. “What does your charity do again?”

“We provide clean drinking water, toiletries, manicure sets, and designer clothing to orphans in Ecuador,” she said, smiling brightly as she regarded her own manicured hands. “After all, there’s no reason those poor orphans shouldn’t feel pretty.”

Beau snorted laughter under his hand. “That’s right, darlin’, those orphan kids just love dressin’ up in Pierre Cardin and Armani. Way more important than water,” he said as Bella gave him a playfully dark look. He eased out of his chair and looked at me. “C’mon, Roger. I’ll show you how to drive this thing,” he said. “Don’t worry, the ladies won’t hardly notice we’re gone.”

I had a feeling he actually wanted to talk to me about something he didn’t want his wife to hear, so I followed him up to the bridge, or whatever the part with the controls was called.

“So yeah,” Beau said as I caught up to him standing in front of the control panel. “You’ve got your steering wheel, your throttle, your push-button start, your rudder.” He pointed to various parts. “Those things tell you crap like where you’re going and how fast, and you’ve got the GPS tracker and a bunch more bells and whistles that probably do some cool shit.” He pulled a small object with a bunch of buttons from his shorts pocket. “But this here’s how I drive my yacht,” he said, handing it to me.

“Holy fuck. Is this a remote control for a yacht?” I said, hardly able to believe it.

Beau let out one of his trademark deep laughs. “It surely is, my boy,” he said as he clapped me on the back. “Thing is, when you’re as rich as I am, money will buy you damned near anything you can think of, like a yacht remote control. Or this here.”

He produced something else from a pocket. It turned out to be a gold iPhone. “Yes, this is actually made of 24 carat gold, plus black diamond and all these precious stones, I don’t even know what they are,” he turned the phone on its side to show off the glittering gems set into the outside edge. “And it’s really an iPhone. This thing cost me sixteen million bucks. It’s actually Bella’s, but she never bothered using it.”

I shook my head slowly and grinned. “I’ve always knew rich people were crazy,” I said.

“Aha!” he shouted like I’d just admitted I was the second gunman who shot JFK. “I knew it. You’re still thinking in terms of us versus them, rich and not rich. Only you’re not counting yourself in the rich people category, are you?”

“Uh, no,” I said, wondering why that mattered. I mean, sure, I was rich, but it was because of the pen. Even with the investments we were working on to grow real money from imaginary funds, everything I had still came from a magic pen. So, I hadn’t really thought of myself as ‘a rich person.’

Beau threw his arm around me. “See, here’s why I like you, Roger. You’re clearly ballsy, and you’ve got plenty of money, but you’re not comfortable with it.” He nodded, as if convincing himself. “What I think you need is a mentor. Someone who’s used to the money and can show you how to really spend it.”

“Oh, yeah?” I said, gesturing at pocket he’d stuck his sixteen-million-dollar gadget back in. “So, you’re gonna hook me up with your gold iPhone dealer, or what?”

“Not exactly. Take this, for example.” He pointed to the remote control still in my hand and led me to the back end of the bridge, overlooking the huge rear deck. “Point that thing down there and push the blue button near the bottom.”

“Okay,” I said, furrowing my brow as I aimed the remote. When I pushed the button, there was a soft hum below us as a panel slid back, revealing a sparkling blue swimming pool built into the deck. And I couldn’t help laughing again. “You’re out in a yacht on an ocean bay, with your own private swimming pool,” I said. “That’s crazy.”

“That’s what you do with money,” Beau said with a grin. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bathing in champagne and buying random hotels so you can bring a couple of sororities up to the top floors to impress a congressman.” He winked at me. “Sure, we give back too. Bella’s got her Armani for orphans thing, and I like to throw lobster at poor people like that guy in Wolf of Wall Street…”

“Wait, you really do that?” I said in shock.”

He laughed. “Nah, I wouldn’t be quite that gauche. But the point is, I could if I wanted to,” he said. “Know what I mean?”

“I guess so,” I said. “But I’ll tell you one thing. I’m definitely getting myself a yacht with a pool and a remote control.”

“That’s the spirit! We’ll make a crazy rich person out of you yet,” Beau said as he led me back toward the control panel. “Now, let me really show you how to pilot a yacht. Sit down here.” He patted the big leather captain’s chair in front of the steering wheel.

So, I sat down and let Beau show me how to be rich.

31

After a full day on Beau and Bella’s yacht, my new friend sent us back to Vegas on his jet with instructions to keep in touch. Gail and I had an invigorating time on the flight back, and it was great to come home to the base and all my girls. But the next afternoon, I was headed for Boulder City with Skye in a rented Rolls-Royce Phantom, just because it was the most expensive car the luxury rental place had to offer, to pay a little visit to Club Ace.

Skye’s search was still chewing through mountains of data, so despite the new information, we had nothing on Presley yet. Meanwhile, I was done sitting around and waiting for him to come to me. The bar that the captured soldier mentioned was the next best lead I had, and I was determined to follow it.

It was around three when I pulled the Phantom into the sparsely filled, hard-packed dirt parking lot of Club Ace, inconveniently located in the rural outskirts of Boulder City. The place was a real dump, shabby and sagging with weathered wood siding, and most of its several gaudy neon signs dimmed or sputtering. A high wooden stockade fence ran from the back of the building on both sides, blocking the view of whatever was behind the place.

“Wow. This is about the saddest bar I’ve ever seen,” Skye said as we got out of the car and headed for the entrance. “And believe me, I’ve seen some really pathetic bars. I feel like we should wear hazmat suits in there, or at least bring a few gallons of hand sanitizer.”

“Yeah, well, this guy’s a scumbag. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that he hangs around a scummy bar,” I said as I opened the door for Skye, and then stepped through behind her. I was half hoping I’d find Ann inside waiting tables or something. Not that I wanted to discover that she worked for Presley, but if she did, I wanted to get her away from him.

But there were no waitresses, at least none I could see. Aside from a handful of miserable-looking customers seated at the scattered tables or the long, scuffed bar that ran the back of the room, there was a lone bartender behind the counter. And to the right, seated on a stool in the middle of a worn platform stage, was an Elvis impersonator.

I had to admit, I didn’t expect that. The man on the stage wore a white sequined jumpsuit, huge dark sunglasses, and wingtip shoes. There was a blue guitar slung crookedly at his side, and instead of performing, he was working hard at getting to the bottom of a bottle of cheap whiskey.

I stared at the fake Elvis as the girls and I picked the least nasty-looking table to sit at. “You don’t suppose Presley would actually be …?” I said as I pulled one of the chairs out for Skye. “I mean, his goon did say he wears white suits and sunglasses all the time.”

Skye giggled. “Probably not,” she said with a smirk. “Even if he is that stupid, we wouldn’t get that lucky.”

I agreed. At the very least, if Presley was hanging around here doing a drunken Elvis impersonation, Agent Smith would’ve been able to get her hands on him by now. But I’d still ask the bartender about him. “Okay, so what do you think? Should we risk ordering a few drinks while we’re here?”

“I’ll take a rum and Coke. Nobody could screw that up too badly,” Skye said.

“Coming right up,” I said. As I rose to go get her drink and interrogate the bartender, I decided that a cold beer wouldn’t be the worst choice for me. As I made my way toward the bar, Elvis set the bottle aside, fiddled with his guitar for a minute, and then launched into a dragging, ultra low-key version of Can’t Help Falling In Love. I almost felt bad for the guy. He was doing a pretty good impression of the King, even though it was way too slow and moody, but no one was paying much attention to him.

That was probably why he’d been so intent on the whiskey.

When I stepped up to the bar, the bartender plodded over reluctantly, like someone was holding a gun to his back. “Guess you want a drink,” he said, looking me up and down.

“Uh, yeah. This is a bar, isn’t it?” I said with a slight frown. “I’d like a rum and Coke, and a bottle of Bud. Please.”

The bartender gave a half-shrug and moved a few steps down to fish a frosted plastic tumbler from somewhere beneath the counter. “Ice?” he asked.

“Just a little,” I told him.

He flashed an exasperated look, grabbed a plastic scoop from an ice bin and deliberately picked out a single ice cube to plop into the tumbler. “That enough?”

I sighed. This was not going well. “Look, just make it however you usually do, okay?” I said. “It’s fine, really.”

The guy seemed to relax a little as he scooped ice into the cup, so I decided to risk a little conversation. “Hey, do you happen to know a guy named Henry Aaron?” I said. “I heard he comes here sometimes. His friends might call him Presley. White suit, dark glasses?”

The bartender gave a slow blink and pointed to the stage, where Elvis was droning his way toward the final chorus. “You know his name ain’t really Presley, right?” he said, and then leaned across the bar counter to add in a loud whisper, “The King is dead.”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m looking for a different Presley in a white suit and sunglasses,” I said.

“Tell you what. Drive out of town, and head north on 515 for about thirty miles. You’ll come to this big, shiny city called Vegas. Maybe you’ve heard of the place,” he said as he dumped generous splashes of rum over the ice, sprayed Coke into the glass, and produced a bottle of Bud. “You’ll find about five hundred Presleys there. Take your pick.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “All right, so you don’t know him,” I said. “Thanks anyway.”

“No problem.” The bartender actually smiled a little as he arranged the drinks on a small tray. “That’ll be eight fifty.”

I got my wallet and pulled out a twenty. As I was handing it over, preparing to tell him to keep the change, the bartender’s expression went from mild amusement to sheer anger.

“Roger,” he snarled. “What the hell are you doing in my bar?”

Shit, I recognized this. It was the same possession trick Presley had pulled at the roulette table in Vegas. “Hi there, Henry,” I said, enjoying his flinch of surprise when I spoke his real name. “Didn’t expect that, did you? I know a lot more than that, too, you nasty son of a bitch.”

Unfortunately, he recovered too fast from the shock, and let out a very unfriendly laugh. “You don’t know anything, Roger,” he said. “If the FBI can’t find me, what makes you think that you can?”

“Oh, I’m going to find you,” I said. “And when I do, I’m going to stomp your woman-beating ass into the ground, and then make sure you’re locked up for life. If I don’t kill you first.”

The possessed bartender snorted. “You have no idea what you’re stepping in. But I’ll tell you what, since I know exactly where you are and how to get to you,” - he leaned forward and folded his arms on the counter - “you have three days to get out of Nevada. I won’t even come after your pen … yet. But if you’re not gone by my deadline, I will come for you. I will fuck you up royally. But I won’t kill you right away.” A ghastly grin spread on his face. “First, I’ll make you watch every one of those sluts you keep around die. Slowly and painfully, one by one. And then you can join them.”

The rage that filled me was so intense, it took everything I had not to shatter the bartender’s teeth with a fist. I had to remember that the actual man in front of me wasn’t the target. He was just being used, apparently like everyone else Presley knew. “Listen, you—”

Before I could finish the threat, the bartender blinked and shivered, and his blank eyes filled with confusion.

“You need something else?” he said as he straightened and looked around, probably trying to figure out why he was leaning on the counter when the last thing he remembered, I’d just handed him a twenty. Presley had left the building, the goddamned coward.

“Uh, no. I’m good, thanks,” I said as I picked up the tray. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks, man,” the bartender said with another little smile. “Good luck finding that Presley guy.”

“Yeah, I think I just found him,” I said under my breath as I headed back toward the girls. I hated to drink and run, but as of now, finding Henry Aaron was my extreme top priority. There was no more time to get ready for him.

The sick bastard was absolutely going down.

32

The final lead I had was ridiculously slim, but since Skye’s search was still going to take at least half a day to finish, I decided to follow it anyway. After extending the rental on the Rolls, I dropped Skye off at the Medallion, picked up Marty, Cami, and Felicia, and headed for Duckback, Nevada, the last known address of Henry Aaron.

The tiny town was about a four-hour drive from Vegas, and halfway there we pulled off the highway into a truck stop diner to use the bathrooms and grab a quick bite. I’d brought the new-and-improved suit with me and wore the backpack, just in case anything went wrong. Until this thing with Presley was over, I’d probably keep it with me constantly.

A bell jingled over the door as we went into the place. Though the diner was about the size of a single-wide trailer, it managed to look bigger on the inside. There was a short counter near the entrance where a few truckers sat on stools, nursing coffees and cold sandwiches while an older woman behind it refilled their mugs, and a sign in front of a wooden stand next to the door that said Please wait to be seated! in old-fashioned script. Two long rows of booths ran down the place after the sign.

We hadn’t waited more than a minute when an adorable waitress in a blue and white uniform with pink-streaked black hair in a pixie cut, a name tag that said Heather, and a bubbly smile walked over. “Hey, there. Party of four?” she said, looking at me with wide-eyed and undisguised interest.

“Yep, you got it,” I said. “We’d like a booth, please.”

The waitress laughed. “Well, you’re in luck, because that’s all we’ve got. Right this way.”

She grabbed four napkin-wrapped bundles of silverware and four menus from behind the stand, and then led us to the third booth on the left. As we took seats, I grabbed the outside next to Felicia, with Marty and Cami across from us. Heather deftly passed out menus and silverware, and then stood back with a hand planted on her hip and a smile lingering on her lips.

“I’d tell you the specials, but we don’t have any,” she said. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“I’ll take coffee and an ice water,” I said, feeling a little fatigued. The rented Phantom was easily the smoothest, most comfortable car I’d ever driven, well worth the twelve hundred a day rental cost, but I’d already done a lot of driving today and still had quite a bit more to go. “What about you guys?”

“Same here,” Marty said. Cami asked for a Sprite, and Felicia just wanted water.

“All right. I’ll be back with your drinks in a few minutes,” Heather said as she gave me another thinly veiled look of interest before she walked away.

“Gee, Roger, I think she likes you,” Felicia said when the waitress was out of sight, laughing as she rubbed my thigh under the table. “Can’t blame her, really.”

“Well, I am pretty awesome,” I said with a grin as I looked at the menu. “And possibly starving.”

When Heather returned with the drinks, we all ordered burger platters, and we had food in front of us in less than fifteen minutes. It was surprisingly good, especially the fries.

“Okay, so in case I didn’t say it, thanks for coming out here with me,” I said between bites. “I honestly doubt we’re going to find anything useful, but I feel like I have to try, you know?”

“Yeah, I definitely understand why,” Cami said darkly. I’d already filled them in on what I found out about Henry Aaron, what he did to make money, and how he treated women. “We need to find this guy fast.”

Marty nodded in agreement as he popped a fry in his mouth and chased it with a sip of water. “You said no one’s lived in this place since he moved out, right?” he said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some pictures or something. I mean, we don’t even know what this asshole looks like.”

“Yeah, maybe. But according to Agent Smith, it’s been empty for something like fifteen years,” I said as I swallowed the last of my coffee and set the empty cup at the end of the table. “Whatever’s left probably isn’t going to be pretty.”

The bell over the diner door jingled in the background. I didn’t pay much attention to it, until I heard a frightened scream followed by a struggle, and a man’s voice snarled, “Hold still, sweetheart. You get to keep me company while my buddy here cleans out your register.”

“Oh my God,” Cami whispered, staring past me at the commotion. “Two guys with guns just walked in, and they have our waitress.”

I got the strangest feeling of combined anger and indignation. I was insulted that these bastards would bust in here while I was trying to eat, and furious that they were threatening Heather. No way was I going to sit here and put up with this.

“They won’t have her for long,” I said as I pushed my plate back on the table. “Suit up.”

My suit responded instantly, covering me with the black polymer undershell and then assembling the armor above it. I stood and stepped into the aisle between the booths as the electricity crackled through the suit and fused it together.

“Hey, assholes,” I called. “Didn’t your mothers ever tell you that it’s rude to interrupt people when they’re eating?”

They both looked at me. The one standing behind Heather with an arm over her shoulder and across her throat, and a gun pressed into her side, was tall and thin, with a face like a boot and an expression of sneering disbelief. The other one was shorter, stockier, and headed for the counter with a gun pointed at one of the truckers and a black bag in his other hand.

The tall one laughed. “Who the hell are you supposed to be?”

“Iron Man, RoboCop, take your pick,” I said as I started toward them slowly. “Mostly, I’m the guy who’s going to stop you. So, you can either let the girl go and wait peacefully to get arrested, or you can keep being a dickhead and get your ass kicked, and then get arrested.”

“Are you kidding me with this shit?” The tall gunman glanced at the bagman, and this time both of them laughed. “Yeah, you and your Halloween costume are here to save the day. That’s great news for you, sweetheart, right?” he said as he tightened his grip on Heather, making her gasp.

I took another few steps and held a hand out toward the bagman. “Are you going to let go of her, or not?” I said.

“Gosh, lemme think about that,” the tall hostage taker drawled. “I’m gonna go with shooting your stupid ass, and then I’ll really have some fun with her,” he said as he shoved Heather to the floor and pointed the gun at me. “Bye-bye, hero.”

“Blast,” I said, and gestured at the bagman.

The tall asshole fired at the same time, and as the bullet clanged off my armor with a small shower of sparks, the concussive blast hit the bagman and drove him into the wall behind him, cracking the plaster. The bagman’s head snapped back and smashed hard against the wall, and he groaned and slumped to the floor. White dust and a few pebbles pattered down over his unconscious form.

I pivoted and held a hand out toward the other would-be robber. “Hey, what do you know?” I said. “Best damned Halloween costume I ever bought.” As his eyes widened and he tensed to run, I pumped a concussive blast at him that knocked him out neatly against a wooden cross-beam support in the wall, with a lot less damage to the diner this time.

There was a moment of silence as the second robber slid to the floor, and then the two truckers at the bar counter let out rough cheers. “Fuck, that was awesome. Thanks, man,” one of them said.

“No problem,” I said as I approached Heather and held a hand out to help her off the ground.

She took it and stared up at me as I boosted her to her feet. “Wow, where did you come from?” she said in a shaken voice. “I mean, there’s only one door …”

“From your table back there,” I said, jerking a thumb over my shoulder. “Power down.” At my command, the suit crackled with electricity and pulled itself into a backpack again.

Heather’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Holy shit, it’s you!” she said breathlessly, and threw herself at me. She was kissing me before I could blink, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop her. She tasted just as sweet as she looked.

After a minute, Heather stepped back suddenly with a shocked gasp. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said as she blushed deeply. “You and your friend are here with your girlfriends, and I … I’m sorry. It’s just that you saved my life, and I was really grateful.”

“It’s fine. Really,” I told her with a laugh. “But listen, we’d better get these guys tied up or something, and then call the police,” I said as I moved past her and collected the guns from the unconscious robbers. “Do you have maybe some rope in the back, or anything we could use?” Hopefully they did because the last thing I wanted to do was use pen-created ones and have these guys escape because Presley was being a dick.

“We’ve got zip ties in the maintenance closet,” the older woman behind the counter said. I hadn’t seen her while all this was going down, but then she explained why. “I’ve already called 911, so the cops will be here soon. I’ll get the zip ties,” she added, giving me a nod of approval as she melted into the back of the place again.

“Okay, great. That’s my cue to go, then,” I said as I stepped back toward the booths and gestured at Marty and the girls. They were already getting up from the table. “I think you can handle it from here,” I said to Heather as I produced my wallet and handed her a trio of hundred-dollar bills. “That should cover everything, right?”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to pay a dime. All your meals are on the house,” she said, smiling at me. “It’s the least I can do after you saved me, and everyone here. But are you sure you don’t want to wait for the police? I mean you’re a hero! They’ll probably put your picture in the paper and everything, maybe even give you an award.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I have something I’m trying to take care of, and it’s time sensitive,” I said, not wanting to waste hours talking to the cops, or reporters, or anyone else who showed up. “But listen, you keep this.” I pressed the hundreds into the waitress’s hand. “Consider it a tip. You can split it with the other lady, or whatever.”

“Are you sure?” Heather said as she looked at me.

I nodded. “Positive.”

“Well, can I at least give them your name?” she said as she pocketed the bill. “They’re going to want to know who stopped these guys.”

“I’d rather not have my name mentioned. Really, I don’t want the attention,” I said as the rest of my group reached me. “But thank you anyway. We’re going to head out now.”

“All right,” Heather said with a little pout. “I’d sure like to know your name, though. Maybe I could look you up sometime and, um, we could hang out?”

“Tell you what. Give me a few days, and I’ll look you up,” I said, gesturing for Marty, Felicia and Cami to head outside. I trailed after them and waved to Heather. “Make sure you get those guys tied up tight, okay? See you around.”

I stepped outside and let the diner door close, and we headed for the Rolls just as the first faint siren sounded in the distance. “We’d better get out of here quick,” I said as I opened the driver’s side door and climbed in. “I don’t think the police are going to accept ‘I used a super hi-tech nanite weapon suit to knock them out’ when they ask what happened.”

Cami giggled as she got in the passenger side and closed the door, with Marty and Felicia jumping into the back seat at the same time. I was already starting the engine.

“I didn’t know I was making you a superhero suit,” Cami said as she buckled her seat belt. “That was really awesome, Roger. I loved it. You should totally go around fighting crime now.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said as I slipped the car into gear and pulled smoothly from the parking lot, headed for the highway. “I gotta admit, that was kind of fun stopping those assholes.”

But right now, I had a bigger asshole to stop, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Presley.

33

We almost missed the turnoff for Duckback. The wooden sign was badly weathered, the letters almost illegible, much like the rest of the town. Every house and building we passed was faded and worn, with a lot of boarded-over windows and tangled, weedy yards sprouting collections of various junk. The main drag consisted of a general store, a combination gas station and mechanic, a hardware store, and a grocery store about the size of a shoebox.

This place might’ve been one of those one-stoplight towns, except it didn’t even have a single stoplight. Probably because there was barely any traffic to direct. We saw a grand total of three other moving vehicles on the drive through town, all of them heading away from the place.

It took a while to find the address Agent Smith had given me, because it was at the end of an actual dirt road and miles away from any semblance of neighbors. The only good thing about the house where Henry Aaron used to live was that we didn’t have to fight through snarls of overgrown vegetation to get to the door, because there wasn’t any vegetation. No trees, no bushes, not even a single blade of grass. The entire yard was bare, powdery dirt, packed as hard as the road it stood on.

Actually, ‘stood’ wasn’t the right word for the place. It sagged on the patch of barren ground, the roof line bowed in at the center with a huge chunk of roof rotting away from the left side of the house and spilling debris in a landslide to the ground. Beyond a collapsed porch, the front door hung crooked on a single hinge. Every window in the place was either busted, or completely shattered and gone, leaving empty frames behind. And if the house had ever been painted, it was impossible to tell what color because it was all a uniform muddy gray now.

I parked the Rolls on the flattest part of the yard I could find, next to a pair of deep, cracked ruts that might’ve served as a driveway once. “Man, that house is going to fall apart if we sneeze on it,” I said, shaking my head as I killed the engine and popped the door open. “You guys don’t have to go in there. It looks dangerous as hell.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not staying out here and missing all the fun,” Felicia said as she opened her door and got out. “Maybe it’s haunted. I’ve always wanted to explore a haunted house.”

Marty let out a snort, exiting the car at the same time as me and Cami. “There’s no such thing as ghosts,” he said as he stared at the rambling shell of a house. “But there is such a thing as tetanus, and being buried alive under rubble, and rats.”

“Ew, gross,” Cami said, wrinkling her nose. “Do you really think there’s rats in there?”

“Actually, there wouldn’t be any rats,” I said as I took a few tentative steps toward the place, glancing at the random junk scattered around the non-yard. The rusting hulk of what used to be a classic car, an old washing machine, a pile of twisted scrap metal, a bent bedspring with a few ancient scraps of fabric clinging to it. “It’s been deserted too long, so there wouldn’t be any spoiling food left. That’s what attracts rats.” I looked at Cami and shrugged. “There might be bugs, though. And spiders.”

She shivered and made a face. “Yuck. But whatever, I still want to check this place out.”

“Yeah, all right. Let’s just be careful in there, okay?” I said as I started across the dusty ground. “I can’t use my pen to help you if anyone gets hurt.” I rubbed my chin. “But now that I’m thinking about it, maybe we could come up with an application of nanites coded to mend torn flesh, broken bones, and damaged organs.”

“You make an excellent point.” Cami nodded to me, suddenly lost in thought. “I’ll have to get with Maggie about it, but I think something like that might work.”

“Well, definitely move that up the list,” I said as we picked our way carefully across the rotted, jumbled pile of broken boards that used to be a porch. “Because that’s tech we absolutely need to develop.”

“Will do,” Cami replied as I grabbed the rusted door handle and tried to gently move it open. The remaining hinge snapped and the whole door thudded to the ground, crashing through boards with an explosion of splinters.

“Okay, then,” I said, gripping the door with both hands to set it aside. “I guess we won’t close up here when we’re done.”

I grabbed the frame and boosted myself up to the entrance, which was a good three feet off the ground without the porch to walk across, then held a hand out for the rest of them to wait while I tested the floor. When I was able to walk several feet without the whole thing giving way beneath me, I went back and helped Felicia and Cami up the rise. Marty pulled himself in behind them.

Not much sunlight filtered through the glassless windows, but it was enough to see that the house was mostly bare. No old furniture or discarded possessions littered the place, and most of the interior walls looked intact. But there were plenty of crushed beer cans and cigarette butts, and nearly every wall was scrawled solid with graffiti. Typical kid stuff like Tom Wuz Here and Jessie ’n Kevin 4 Eva and random profanity like fuck yo mama, interspersed with crude drawings and the occasional ultra-colorful spray-painted masterpiece.

Well, shit. I wasn’t that surprised by the vandalism, since the kids around here didn’t have anything else to do. Unfortunately, that probably meant they’d ransacked the place over the years and we’d find absolutely nothing here.

“Okay, so whether or not ghosts are real, this place is still kinda creepy,” Felicia said as she wandered a few steps into the room, turning slowly to look at the cluttered walls. “Damn. These are some seriously dedicated vandals.”

“They’ve had fifteen years to do all this,” I said, moving cautiously toward the far side of the room and the kitchen beyond. Despite temperatures in the seventies outside, it was chilly in here, like the emptiness of the place had sucked out all the warmth. “Not sure we should even try to go up those stairs,” I said as I passed the stairway leading to the second floor. “It looks like a bunch of them are broken.”

Marty moved to the other side of the room and rattled the knob of a closed door. He got it to turn, and the door opened with a squeal like rusty nails. A big swirl of dust billowed out from whatever was behind the door, and he coughed and staggered back, waving a hand in front of his face. “Just a linen closet,” he rasped, half-choking on the words as he reached out and slammed the door shut. “With, like, square piles of dust on the shelves. I think they used to be towels or something.”

“We probably should’ve brought dust masks, at least. But we’ll just make this quick,” I said as I took a closer look at the kitchen. “Don’t go too far, okay? I’m going to try the cabinets and drawers in there.”

“I’ll help you,” Felicia said as she came toward me. “This living room is creeping me out.”

“The kitchen’s not much better,” I said with a smirk.

There wasn’t much wall space in the kitchen, but that hadn’t stopped the local kids from marking the room with their version of home decorating. There were murals where the appliances had been torn out, names and slurs all over the narrow sections of wall between the upper and lower cabinets on both sides of the room, and the cabinets themselves had been tagged with most of the same stuff as the living room walls.

Someone had left a huge, thick glass ashtray on the left-hand counter, pushed back against the wall and completely overflowing with both cigarette butts and the nubby ends of hand-rolled joints. They were also building a multi-layered tower of empty beer cans, mostly Milwaukee and PBR, in the far corner where the fridge used to be.

I started opening drawers and cabinets, looking for anything that belonged to Presley or whatever family he might’ve had, and Felicia did the same on the other side of the room. I found some old, brittle newspapers lining a few of the drawers, a single plastic cup in one of the cabinets, and a matchbox car with a penny crammed through the tiny side windows in another, but nothing that could’ve helped me find Presley.

“Hey, I think I see something,” Cami called from the living room as I opened the last cabinet on my side and found it empty. “That ledge over there, it looks like a window seat.”

“Okay, yeah, that might be something,” I said, closing the cabinet to start back across the kitchen. “Hold on a second and I’ll—”

I heard a few footsteps, and then a loud, splintering crack and a thud as Cami let out a breathless shout. “Goddamn it!” she cried out. “My stupid leg just went through the stupid floor!”

I was already running.

Marty and I reached Cami at the same time, with Felicia close behind. Cami’s leg had gone completely through the living room floor to the top of her thigh, and her other leg was stuck out to the side at a painful-looking angle. Her teeth clenched tight as she tried to push herself out with her palms flat on the warped floorboards.

“Just don’t move, okay?” I said as I walked carefully beside her, feeling for more weak spots in the floor. “We’ll get you out. Maybe Felicia can check the—”

“Window seat. Over there,” Cami gasped as she waved a hand toward the far window, where the wall kind of boxed out beneath it. “It’s probably on a hinge at the back, and people usually keep sentimental stuff in those things. God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I’m stuck in this stupid floor.”

As Felicia stepped carefully toward the window, I knelt by Cami’s outstretched leg. “You’re not stupid,” I said. “Listen, I’m going to try adjusting you a little first, so you don’t crack your pelvis or something.”

“Good idea, because this really hurts,” she said through clenched teeth as her hands formed tight fists. “If I wasn’t so flexible, I probably would’ve broken something important.”

“Yeah, good thing you’re practically an acrobat,” I said, flashing a smile as I gently gripped her ankle. Cami could do things with her legs that I never knew were possible.

I started sliding her leg slowly across the floor, bringing it around in front of her until she gasped and shuddered with relief. “That’s way better,” she nearly groaned. “So, how do we get my other leg out?”

“Very carefully,” I said as I grabbed my phone from my pocket, turned the flashlight on, and directed the light at the floor where she’d gone through. I winced when I saw the blood staining the splintered wood around the hole. “How bad are you hurt?” I said softly.

“Not too bad, I think,” she said, drawing a sharp breath as she jerked instinctively, trying to pull her leg free. “I mean, I can still feel my toes and bend my knee. So that’s good, right?”

“That’s definitely a good sign.” I knelt in front of her and felt the floor around her thigh. The wood was spongy and bent when I pressed down, so I could probably break enough of it off to get her out. “Hey, Marty. Go around behind her and hold her, so she doesn’t fall further through while I loosen this crap.”

He nodded and circled around Cami to kneel behind her, and then wrapped his arms around her waist. “Sorry, Cami. I promise I’m not getting frisky or anything,” he said.

She laughed. “Just don’t let go, okay?”

“I won’t,” he told her.

“All right, I’m going to open this up,” I said as I ran a hand along the wood, looking for a place to slip through. I found a gap about an inch wide near the inside of Cami’s thigh and worked my fingers down. Splinters of wood scratched at me as I inserted my hand far enough to grip the edge of the wood. I pulled up, applying steady pressure until a handful of boards broke with a damp snap. Then I worked my way forward, breaking off small pieces of wood until the hole was big enough to pull her free.

“Think I got it. We’ll do this together,” I said, giving Cami an encouraging look before I met Marty’s eyes over her shoulder. “I’ll hold her leg steady, and you pull her out. Ready?”

“Just tell me when,” he said.

I braced her thigh with both hands and nodded to Marty. “Go.”

He started to stand slowly, drawing her up with him as I maneuvered her leg away from the jagged edges of the hole. It took less than a minute to free her, and she sagged back against Marty as her foot cleared the floorboards.

“Think I’d better sit down,” she said weakly as Marty maneuvered her away and lowered her to solid ground. “Damn, that hurt. I can’t believe I did that!”

I walked over and settled carefully next to her, looking at the blood that stained her leg. There was a long tear in her pants down the front of her thigh, and a deep, bloody gash beneath. “Well, at least I don’t see any splinters in there,” I said, putting an arm around her shivering form as she leaned into me. “But we need to get that cleaned and disinfected right away, so we should get out of here. Felicia, did you find anything?”

Felicia straightened away from the open window seat with a small, flat rectangle in her hand. “Actually, I think I did,” she said as she started toward us, testing the floor with each step. “There’s a bunch of papers in there, looks like old bills and school papers, stuff like that. And this.” She handed me the rectangle.

“You’re awesome. Thank you,” I said as I took a look.

It was a photo. Two kids sitting on the steps of what used to be the porch on this house, a boy and a girl who were probably somewhere between ten and thirteen. I wasn’t sure, because I sucked at guessing how old kids were. The boy was dark-haired and kind of angry looking, wearing ripped jeans and a black Megadeth t-shirt with his feet shoved into battered sneakers. He had an arm slung casually around the girl, a little blonde thing in a yellow sundress with bare feet and a trapped smile, the kind that said eww, my brother is touching me.

I flipped the photo over. Written on the back in spidery cursive was Henry and Gladys at home, summer, age 12 and 11.

“Is that him?” Cami said, looking at the photo as I turned it back over. “The pissed-off kid?”

“Seems like it is,” I said, grinning as I tucked the photo into my pocket. “He won’t look like this now, but I bet Skye can age-advance the photo so we can get an idea of what he looks like now. Maybe then she can use facial recognition to find him or something. See, you didn’t fall through the floor for nothing,” I said as I squeezed her shoulders. “I wouldn’t have known that was a window seat.”

“Right, I’m a genius,” Cami said, giving a weak laugh. “Can we get out of here now?”

“Sounds good to me,” I said as I helped her up. At least we had something else to go on now. I’d just have to hope it would be enough.

34

“I’m fine. Really,” Cami said as she sat up in the bed and swung her legs over the side. “It’s just an ugly scratch, and I didn’t even need stitches. Maggie and Vanessa already cleared me. Come on, I’m dying to test the second suit and the mods I just made on yours.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” I said, smiling as I shook my head. We’d only been back at the base for a few hours, and after making sure Cami was in good hands with our doctors, I’d given Skye the photo we found at the house and asked her to work some magic. She’d said that the age advancement wouldn’t be a problem, but it would take a while.

In the meantime, we had a new suit to try out. And Cami had done something to mine since we got back that she wanted to show me.

Cami, Marty and I headed down to the still-unfinished amphitheater with my suit and the new one. Marty was just as excited to test the second suit as Cami. “Does it have all the same stuff?” he said as Cami handed him a dark blue backpack. “I mean, like it’s voice activated with all those weapons and cool shit Roger has?”

“Yes, they do the same things,” Cami said with a giggle. “Plus, I made slight modifications to both of them, so now they’re coded to each of your voice patterns. Even if someone else gets their hands on them, they won’t be able to use them.”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” I said, and then handed my black backpack to Cami as an idea occurred. “Let’s test the voice security. You can try to use this one.”

Cami nodded. “Okay, sure,” she said as she slipped her arms through the straps. Then she walked a few paces away and said, “Suit up.”

Nothing happened, just like it was supposed to.

“Dude, I can’t wait any more. I’m trying this,” Marty said as he finished putting the dark blue pack on. “Suit up!”

The suit responded, building itself into an undershell and an outer layer of armor the same way mine did, only Marty’s was blue with silver accents while mine was black with gold. “This is so wicked!” Marty said, his voice clear through the suit’s speakers. He held out an arm and said, “Gun.”

Lightning crackled over his hand, and the glove formed a gun. Marty waved the weapon around, laughing. “This actually fires bullets instead of black goo, right?”

“Yes, it fires bullets, smartass,” Cami said with a grin as she handed me the black suit and I activated it. “Go on, try it.”

Marty whirled and fired at the drilling machine I’d smashed up earlier. The sound of the shot echoed in the open space of the huge room, and there was a metallic thunk as the bullet buried itself in the debris of the machine’s ruined cockpit. “Yes!” Marty said, pumping a fist in the air. “Gun off.”

The gun disassembled itself into an armored glove again, and Marty turned back toward me. “Hey, Roger. Blast me.”

“Um, what?” I said.

“Hit me with the concussive blast thing,” he said, taking a defensive stance. “I want to see how much protection this thing has.”

“Dude, are you sure? This thing packs a hell of a punch,” I said as I checked the holographic visor display and watched the readouts come online.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, worst that could happen is I get knocked out for a few minutes, right?” he said, and I could practically hear his grin beneath the full-face helmet. “That’s why I said concussive blast instead of gun. Just in case. I’m not quite ready to get shot at yet.”

“All right, if you say so,” I laughed and held an arm out. “Blast.”

My suit configured itself for blasting, and I gestured at Marty. The air rippled between us and the blast lifted him off his feet, sending him a few feet in the air to crash down on his ass. He landed with a harsh grunt.

“Holy shit. You all right, Marty?” I called out.

He started laughing. “Actually, I’m perfectly fine!” he said, waving an arm in the air as he pushed off the ground with his other hand. “All that did was kind of knock the wind out of me. The suit took most of the blow.” He started toward me. “Okay, your turn. Let me blast you.”

“Why don’t you try the laser on me instead?” I said as I planted my feet. “I already know it’s bulletproof thanks to that asshole at the diner, and you just proved the suits can take the concussive blasts. So, the laser’s the only thing left to test.”

“You two are both crazy,” Cami pronounced, laughing a little as she moved back further than she’d already been standing. “Just keep me out of the firing zone, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I promise not to shoot you. Just Roger,” Marty said as he raised an arm. “Laser.” As he spoke the command, the suit responded with the right configuration and he pumped his hand toward me.

A blue energy beam exploded from his palm and hit me square in the chest. Though I should have had a hole burned through me, or at least seen the outer layers of armor start to melt, I remained cool as a cucumber. In fact, other than the outer shell starting to glow from building heat, it barely scratched the paint.

“Wow. I barely felt that,” I said with a grin. “It’d probably take a tank or something to get through these suits. You did an awesome job on these, Cami.”

“Thanks,” she said, flashing a pleased smile. “These are definitely the coolest things I’ve built so far.”

I was about to suggest that Marty try out his rocket booster when Skye rushed into the amphitheater. “Roger, I’ve got it,” she said as she strode toward Marty, and then her steps slowed as she looked from him to me. “Uh, which one of you is Roger?”

I laughed and raised a hand. “Right here. Power down,” I said, and the suit crackled with energy and started to retract into a backpack. “What have you got?”

“A lot, I think,” she said a little breathlessly. “After I age advanced the photo you gave me, I ran facial recognition against the possible sites for Henry Aaron’s operation that my program identified, and I got a really strong match. I think I found him,” she said. “Can you come check it out?”

“Absolutely. The sooner we take this guy down, the better,” I said as I heard Marty powering down his suit. “Let’s see what you have.”

The three of us followed Skye back through the base to the main entertainment center room, where her laptop was set up on a folding table. Just about everyone else was hanging out in here too, though I didn’t see Ronnie right away.

“Right here,” she said as she punched a key on her laptop and brought up a map showing Las Vegas, with a red pushpin icon just outside the city to the northwest. “I’ve got a few photos from satellite surveillance and security cameras that I hacked into. The place is big, and it looks like it’s heavily guarded too.” She tapped a few keys, and there was a photo of a huge compound surrounded by chain link fence, featuring one massive warehouse-type building, at least four smaller buildings, and what looked like a private truck yard.

A frown surfaced on my face. Even with the satellite photos, I could see a handful of armed guards patrolling the place. The fence was topped with barbed wire and floodlights at regular intervals, so it looked like there was no way to sneak up on the compound.

“Well, that’s awesome. But not impossible to break into,” I said as Skye started clicking through more photos from different angles. “I don’t know what a drug manufacturing operation is supposed to look like, but I’d bet it looks a lot like this. And you said facial recognition picked up Henry Aaron here?”

“Yeah, it did. The match was only around 90 percent, but it was from an age-advanced photo so it wouldn’t be perfect.” Skye hit a few keys, and a cropped image of a scowling, dark-haired man who looked in his late twenties appeared on the laptop screen. “That’s him, more or less,” she said.

I stared at the image and memorized the face as I imagined myself punching it repeatedly, for everything the self-named Presley had done to me and my team, and apparently a bunch of other women too.

“Now check this out.” Sky changed the image again. “This is what facial recognition picked up.” In the new surveillance photo, the man was standing inside the compound fence by the front gates with an assault rifle slung across his back, talking to a man in a uniform just like the ones the soldiers who’d destroyed the base.

“That has to be him,” I said as I studied the entrance to the place. There was a guard booth set into the fence beside a rollback gate, and at least two guards inside the booth. Besides the man Presley was talking to in the image, there were two more armed men in uniform standing outside the gate. He definitely had a lot of security, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from taking him down.

“Okay, let’s get everyone together and figure out what we’re doing,” I said, stepping back from the table to scan the room. “Anyone seen Ronnie around?”

“And Lisa?” Marty added as he came up next to me. “I just tried to call her, but she didn’t answer.”

Amy looked over from one of the couches where she was sitting with Felicia, watching some movie. “Ronnie and Lisa aren’t here,” she said.

For some reason I was instantly worried. “Where are they?”

“With Ronnie’s sister, I think,” Felicia replied. “I guess Ronnie was supposed to meet up with her a few days ago, when she came back with you? Anyway, she said her sister called and was all worried, so she went to have lunch with her. And Lisa went with her because she was bored and hasn’t been out of the hotel in a while.”

I tried to remember if I even had Ronnie’s cell number, as Marty got his phone out and called Lisa again. “Anyone know where they went for lunch?” I said.

Amy shrugged. “They didn’t say.”

Just as I pulled out my phone to see if I’d put Ronnie’s number in, it rang. The number was from inside the Medallion somewhere. Once again feeling that tug of worry, I hit the answer button. “Hello?”

“Mr. Stevens?” an unfamiliar female voice said. When I confirmed it was me, she went on. “This is Jenny, I’m calling from the front desk. You have a courier delivery here that you need to sign for.”

I blinked. “Delivery? I wasn’t expecting anything,” I said. “Can you find out where it’s from?”

“One minute, please,” she said, and I heard a muffled voice as she covered the phone with a hand and spoke to someone. “The package is from Loman Withholdings and Development,” Jenny said when she came back on the line. “The courier doesn’t know what’s in it, but it looks like paperwork.”

“Oh. Right,” I said as I rubbed my temple. It was probably the transfer of ownership stuff I was supposed to sign so I’d officially own the casino. “Thanks, Jenny. I’ll be right up,” I said, and then ended the call. “Hey guys, I have to go up to the lobby and sign for a delivery,” I said to everyone in the room as I replaced the phone in my pocket. “Keep trying to get hold of Lisa or Ronnie, if anyone has her number, okay? I just want to make sure they’re all right.”

“Do you think they wouldn’t be?” Marty said with alarm in his voice.

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling,” I said, shaking my head a little. “Listen, I’ll be right back and then we’ll figure it out.”

I headed out of the base and took the elevator to the main floor of the hotel, then walked out to the lobby. A young guy in a brown uniform and cap stood off to the side of the line at the reception desk, a clipboard in one hand and a large, thick envelope with a mailing label in the other, watching me as I approached and waved at him.

“You have a delivery for Roger Stevens?” I said.

“Yeah, right here,” the delivery guy said as he met me by one of the huge columns that adorned the lobby. “If you can just sign here?” He handed me the clipboard.

“Sure thing.” I took the pen from the holder above the form and scrawled my name on the line at the bottom of the delivery form. As I handed it back, the courier held out the package.

But he didn’t let go of the package when I grabbed it. Instead, the courier gave a startled blink and stared at nothing for a few seconds, and then smiled an unpleasant smile.

“Hello, Roger,” he said. “Are you missing a couple of your whores? Or maybe you have so many now that you can’t keep track of them all.”

“Presley,” I said in a low, angry voice. “You don’t have anything. You’re lying.”

“Am I? Maybe you should check your phone,” the courier who wasn’t himself said, just as my pocket buzzed with a text notification. “I think you just got an important message.”

Dread pooled in my gut as I pulled my phone out and checked. The text was from Lisa’s number and contained a photo of Ronnie and Lisa, bound and gagged in back-to-back chairs. Wherever they were, there was nothing in the background to help me figure it out. Just a plain concrete wall.

I replaced the phone slowly and glared at the possessed delivery guy. “I’m going to kill you,” I said deliberately. “And if you hurt them, I’m going to hurt you first, and then I’ll kill you. Got it, jackass?”

He laughed. “I love the way you think you’ve got the upper hand,” he said. “No, Roger, you’re not going to kill me. What you’re going to do is come to Club Ace tomorrow morning at ten, alone. You’re going to trade yourself for these whores, and you’ll be brought to me to give me your pen. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to let you live, but I might not kill your friends if you cooperate. If you don’t …” He grinned and made an obscene gesture. “Well, I’ll just let you imagine what I’m going to do with these two. And I promise that whatever you imagine, what I actually do will be far worse.”

My jaw clenched hard enough to hurt my teeth. “Fine. I’ll be there,” I ground out. “But things aren’t going to shake out the way you think they are, Henry. That’s my promise to you.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said, laughing again. “Tomorrow morning at ten. Don’t be late, or you won’t like what’s left of your friends when you get there.”

As I tried to draw a calming breath, the courier shuddered and blinked, then abruptly let go of the package he still held. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he said with a confused look on his face. “Um … You’re all set, Mr. Stevens. Have a good day.”

“You too,” I managed to say as the courier turned and wandered across the lobby, still looking a bit lost. It wasn’t his fault he’d been possessed by a lunatic.

But since I knew exactly where the lunatic was, there was no way I’d wait until tomorrow morning. I was going after him, right now. I’d get Ronnie and Lisa back, and make this bastard pay dearly for everything before it was over.

Even if he stopped me from using my pen, I wouldn’t need it to beat him.

35

I pulled off to the shoulder of the access road about a quarter mile from our destination and turned off the engine. I’d traded the flashy Rolls Phantom for a plain, dark sedan that wouldn’t be looked at twice, and Marty and I had headed out to the facility Skye had identified as Henry Aaron’s.

When I’d told everyone what happened to Ronnie and Lisa, they all wanted to come with us. But I didn’t want to risk any more lives, especially since I wouldn’t be able to use my pen here. Once Presley figured out he was being attacked, he’d know it was me and start erasing anything I wrote. But Marty had insisted he was coming along, and I hadn’t refused. At least he had a bulletproof suit.

Besides, the bastard had taken Lisa too. There was no way Marty would’ve stayed behind.

We got out of the car and suited up, and I tested the comms. “Skye, you there?” I said into the earpiece I’d worn beneath the suit.

“I’m here,” her voice said in my ear. “I hacked the surveillance system, and I’ve got eyes inside. Presley’s in the small building behind the warehouse, or whatever that huge one is.”

“Got it. We’re heading for the main entrance now,” I said, looking over the car to nod at Marty before I started walking.

“Be careful, guys,” Skye said. “I know you’re bulletproof and everything, but there’s a lot of them and it’s still broad daylight.”

“Exactly. They won’t expect to be attacked right now,” I said with a fierce grin.

Marty caught up with me, and we walked in silence for a minute until Marty growled, “If he’s even touched her, I swear to God I’ll rip all his limbs off.”

“I think he got that impression when I talked to him,” I said, trying to sound confident that the girls were okay. Unfortunately, after everything I’d heard about the guy, I highly doubted Presley had left them untouched. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get them both back.”

“I know,” Marty said with flat determination. I hadn’t seen him so furious since he went after Lisa’s abusive ex, and I had a feeling there wouldn’t be much left of Presley once we were done here.

It wasn’t long before the main entrance to the compound came into view. Just like in the photos, there were two guards outside the gate, and they’d already seen us coming. They were reaching for their guns, turning toward what must’ve looked to them like a couple of guys out of a sci-fi book who’d just appeared on the road.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going for maximum reach, minimum casualties,” I said as the guards started shouting something I couldn’t quite hear yet. “Presley’s the one who needs to die. The rest of these guys are just the poor dumbasses working for him.” I held an arm up and said, “Blast.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Marty said, and spoke the command to enable his concussive blast. “I only want to kill that son of a bitch, and the blast will hit more of his goons at a time.”

“Hey, you!” one of the guards called as both of them started heading toward us, their guns out. “This is private property. You need to turn around and go back where you came from.”

I lifted a hand, feigning a greeting. “It’s okay. I’m just looking for a little help,” I said as I kept walking forward. “See, our spaceship broke down back there. We were just wondering if you guys had a few gallons of interstellar fuel we could borrow.”

Both guards stopped with utterly confused expressions. “What the hell are you talking about?” the one who’d spoken before said.

“Never mind. We’ll just take a look around ourselves,” I said, and thrust my hand forward.

The blast wave knocked the guards back in opposite directions, and they hit the ground hard. They didn’t get back up.

“We should probably start running now,” I said to Marty, who nodded in agreement. We sprinted toward the gate, which was now opening as the guards in the booth came out shooting.

Both guards managed a single shot before Marty and I each took one down, and then ran past the downed men for the open gate.

“Hot damn, he shot me,” Marty called, “and the bullet just bounced right off. Man, I love these suits!”

“I know, right?” I sent a blast wave at a group of three soldiers who were running at us from my left. They scattered like bowling pins. By now, shouts and gunfire were erupting all over the compound, but Marty and I were able to take them down a bunch at a time. “Head for the truck yard,” I said as we kept running. “We’ll cut through and circle the warehouse. Skye said that Presley’s in the back building.”

“Got it,” Marty said as he unleashed a concussive blast at a pair of guards coming out of one of the front buildings. “You know, I kind of feel like switching to lasers and destroying some of this shit. This is some kind of huge, nasty drug operation, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said as I took down another four guards. “Go for it. Maybe target the trucks?”

“Definitely,” Marty said as he held a hand out. “Lasers!”

A minute later, we were moving through the crowded truck yard with Marty blasting the rigs and shredding trailers full of packages that definitely looked like drugs, while I smashed soldiers to the ground. Between taking down bad guys, I switched my weapon systems to the pulse laser and blasted the hell out of the warehouse, melting holes and huge tears in the aluminum siding and exploding whatever was inside. The place was full of sparks and smoking wreckage by the time we reached the back and spotted the small building where Presley was hiding.

“You’ve still got eyes on the target, right?” I said into my headset as we closed the distance to the building entrance.

“Yeah, he’s in there,” Skye’s voice announced. “But I’m not seeing Ronnie or Lisa anywhere, and I’ve checked every camera and angle in the system. He must be keeping them somewhere without surveillance.”

“Guess so,” I said as the uneasy feeling I had when I realized Ronnie wasn’t at the base returned. It didn’t make sense for Presley to have hostages and not keep a constant eye on them. But I couldn’t think about what that might mean right now. First, I had to get to the kidnapping son of a bitch.

“Okay, we’re at the entrance, and there’s an electronic keypad lock,” I said to Skye. “Can you crack it or should I try blowing it?”

“Um… if you blow it, who knows what will happen to the structural integrity of the building,” she said, clearly thinking, and I wondered if she had the blueprints for the place pulled up on her screen. “Give me a second, I think I can override it and open it for you, and hey, if that doesn’t work, then try blasting it.”

“Okay. Try to hurry, though,” I said as a fresh wave of soldiers rounded the warehouse from the opposite side of the truck yard. I started blasting them, and Marty joined me. “Skye can’t find Ronnie and Lisa on the security cameras,” I told him as we took down the black-clad, gun-toting men. “Listen, don’t kill Presley until we actually have the girls. We might need him to tell us where they are.”

“Yeah, all right,” Marty said, not sounding at all happy about that.

A few minutes later, Skye made a frustrated sound over the headset. “I can’t get through that door,” she said angrily. “He’s got some really heavy encryption on the systems for this building. It’d take me hours to crack it.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got this one,” I said as I turned toward the door, and as I readied my suit to blow the door inward, I realized I didn’t have to do that. Sure, Presley could erase my pen commands now, but I still had the few seconds of delay when I wrote something down instead of speaking it. I could get the door open before he could reverse the command. “Cover me for a minute, Marty.”

“I’m on it,” he said as he whirled to blast another small group coming through the ruined truck yard.

I produced my pen and decided what the hell, I’d just write directly on the damned door. I grabbed the door handle in preparation and wrote This door is unlocked. The second I heard something beep, I yanked on it, and it opened right up.

Maybe I was crazy, but it seemed like Presley hadn’t even tried to stop me from using the pen.

“Come on, we’re in,” I said, reaching back to tug Marty’s arm. I couldn’t worry about why Presley didn’t seem to catch what I’d written when we were so close to him now.

Inside the building, there was a long hallway leading left and right.

“Hey, Skye,” I said into the earpiece. “Can you walk me through the building to wherever Presley is?”

“You got it. Take a right at the entrance,” she said.

I headed down the right corridor with Marty beside me, both of us looking everywhere for more soldiers. So far, it was quiet in here. We reached the end, and the only way to go was left. “I turned left at the end,” I told Skye. “There’s a bunch of doors down here. Where to now?”

“All the way back,” she said. “When the hallway ends, you’ll have to turn again, and he’s in the first room on the left.”

“Got it,” I said as we kept going.

The building remained silent except for our footsteps as we walked down the hall, turned and stopped in front of the first door on the left. At least this one didn’t have a keypad.

“Skye says he’s in there,” I said and activated the suit’s gun.

Marty did the same. “It’s probably locked,” he said.

“Let’s find out,” I said as I reached for the handle, surprised as hell when it turned easily in my hand. I pulled the door open and swung into the entrance gun first.

The room was an office with a desk and a bunch of monitors on the left-hand wall. Henry Aaron, also known as Presley, sat behind the desk with his hands folded on the surface. And he was grinning.

“Hello, Roger,” he said as I strode in. “And … Roger’s friend. I’d call you by name, but I forgot who you are because I don’t care. I only want the pen holder.”

I raised the gun at him. “Where are they, Henry?”

“Not here, obviously,” he said, spreading his empty hands and flashing a terrible smile. “I told you, if you want them back, you’ll have to go to Club Ace tomorrow morning.”

“We’re not waiting until tomorrow, you sick asshole!” Marty shouted. Before I could stop him, he ran past me and grabbed Henry by the shirt, dragging him across the surface of the desk with one hand. Henry gasped as Marty let his feet hit the floor, and then slammed him hard on the desk to drive the gun into his throat. “Where the hell is my girlfriend?”

Henry let out a wheezing chuckle. “You’re not getting a damned thing out of me,” he said. “Kill me if you want to, but then you’ll never find them in time. And you’ll never find Presley, either.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What are you talking about?” I rasped. “You’re Presley, you asshole.”

“I’m not, actually,” Henry coughed out with Marty’s gun still pressed to his throat. “I’m not the pen holder, jackass.”

“Marty. Ease up for a minute,” I said as my head started pounding. Much as I didn’t want to believe this, it actually made a lot of sense. If Henry wasn’t the pen holder, it would explain why Agent Smith knew so little about him and was never able to track him down. “We still need him to talk.”

With a frustrated snarl, Marty pulled his gun back and slammed Henry against the desk again. “You’d better start making sense, real fast,” he spat.

“I’m not Presley. We’re partners, you see,” Henry said with another chilling smile. “How do you think we’ve stayed in business for so long, with the goddamned FBI breathing down our necks?”

“Goddamn it! Well, where the fuck is Presley?” Marty shouted.

“He’s not going to tell us. Not here, at least.” I shook my head. “I keep trying to stop acting like a Bond villain, but assholes like you don’t give me much choice,” I said to Henry. “Looks like you’re coming back to the base with us. Marty, why don’t you make sure he’s comfortable for the trip?”

“With pleasure,” Marty said, and drew back a fist to knock him unconscious with one blow.

36

“They look hungry, don’t they?” I said to the chained figure dangling over the crocodile pool. “Especially that one. Her name’s Mandy, and she’d like to have you for dinner. Literally. So, how about you tell us something, unless you want to spend the rest of your very short life as an oversized chew toy?”

Henry cackled in his increasingly hoarse voice and bucked against the chains that bound him. “How about you let me teach those whores of yours a few manners? They could stand to learn a little respect, obviously.”

Felicia, Gail, and Skye all bristled at the comment. “Give him back to me, Roger,” Felicia said. “He’s not broken enough yet.”

I sighed and pushed the control button to swing the rig away from the crocodile pool and start lowering Henry to ground level. “Just take him back to the interrogation room and lock him up, for now,” I said. “Maybe if we let him cool off for a while, he’ll have a change of heart.”

“You’re right. I did have a change of heart,” Henry croaked, narrowing his eyes as Felicia and Gail approached him. “I’ve decided to kill all of you, not just Roger.”

“You really don’t know when to talk and when to shut up, do you?” Felicia said as she and Gail lowered Henry’s bound form from the hook that had been hoisting the chains and started dragging him away. “Somebody definitely needs to learn some manners, but it’s not us.”

“Hey, Skye. Hold up a minute,” I said as she moved to follow them out of the room.

She stopped and turned toward me with a quizzical expression. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking about something,” I said. Actually, I’d been thinking about a lot of things, none of them pleasant and most of them centered around my frustration at still not having Presley. “If Henry is the pen holder’s partner, then the pen holder must be someone close to him. And it probably wouldn’t be a friend. Anyone who’d be friends with this guy would’ve turned on his sorry ass by now,” I said. “So, I’m thinking it must be family.”

“The sister,” Skye said, catching on right away. “You know, that’s worth a shot. I’ll go see if I can dig up anything on Gladys Aaron.”

I nodded and smiled at her. “I know you’ll find something. Did you age-advance her when you worked on the photo before?”

“No. The software only works on one face at a time, and I wasn’t thinking about the sister when I did it. I’ll get that going while I look for intel on her,” she said, then frowned slightly and rested a hand on my arm. “Do you think they’re okay? Lisa and Ronnie, I mean.”

“They’d better be,” I said, unable to keep the anger from my voice. “Can you get started on that? I have to make a phone call.”

“Right away,” Skye said, leaning in to kiss my cheek before she headed out of the room.

I wandered toward the exit as I got my phone out. Even if Skye was able to find anything on Gladys Aaron, we still couldn’t be a hundred percent sure she was Presley and there wasn’t much chance of gathering enough info to find her before tomorrow morning. I’d have to go to Club Ace after all. But I wasn’t leaving that bar until I had Ronnie and Lisa safely with me, and Presley out of commission.

I’d need a little help, and I knew just who to get it from.

I dialed Agent Smith as I closed the door to the tank room behind me and headed toward the main rooms. She answered on the second ring, sounding a little irritated. “Roger, someone busted through a huge drug manufacturing operation north of Vegas a few hours ago. I’m just finding out about it now. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was. I have Henry Aaron with me,” I said, folding an arm across my waist as I stopped to lean against the wall. “But there’s a problem. He’s not Presley.”

“What?” the agent gasped. “Who is, then? And why does his name keep coming up whenever Presley does?”

“Because they’re partners. Or were, anyway, until I shut Henry down,” I told her. “I’m not totally sure who Presley is, but I can make an educated guess. I think it’s Gladys Aaron. Henry’s sister.”

Agent Smith let out a sharp breath. “Okay, so you have Henry. I’ll take him into custody, and then we can work on finding the sister to question her.”

“We don’t have time for that,” I said. “Believe me, I’ve been trying to get information from Henry for hours, and he’s not going to crack. But I’m going to be meeting with Presley tomorrow morning.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” Agent Smith said.

I closed my eyes. “It’s supposed to be a hostage exchange. Me for two of my team members. Presley captured them earlier today,” I said. “But I have no intention of being a hostage, so I’m going to need your help. How fast can you get here? To my base, I mean.”

“I know where you are, Roger,” she said, and I could hear both the smile and the sympathy in her voice. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be there.”

“Great. Just don’t do that time-stopping thing, okay? It’s weird and it freaks me out a little,” I said.

“All right, I won’t. See you soon,” she said, and hung up.

I pocketed my phone and walked the rest of the way to the main entertainment room, where Skye was hacking away on her laptop and Marty was pacing holes in the floor.

“Skye said he still hasn’t told us anything,” Marty said when I entered the room. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to get Lisa and Ronnie back,” I said. “Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

Just then, a shimmer of light appeared in the center of the room. Skye let out a little gasp and Marty stared with his mouth hanging open as Agent Smith stepped through the light.

“Hello, Roger,” she said, giving me a smoldering look that made my insides shiver. “And friends,” she added, looking at the other two. “You must be Marty, and you are Skye?”

Marty blinked twice. “And who the hell are you?”

“Guys, this is Agent Smith with the FBI,” I said as I approached her and stopped short before she could touch me like she did the last time. Now wasn’t the time for unfulfilled sexual cravings. “Hey there. Thanks for coming.”

She nodded and glanced at the clipboard she held, where her pen was chained to the top. “You said you have Henry Aaron here, correct?”

“Yeah, we do, and you can have the piece of shit,” I told her. “But first I want to talk. I’m going to need your help tomorrow.”

She flashed another shivery smile. “So, you do want to work together after all?”

“Not exactly. I mean, I don’t want to sign on to the FBI, if that’s what you mean,” I said.

“That’s a pity. I think you’d make a fantastic agent,” Smith said with a faint frown. “All right, what do you need? I’ll try to accommodate you.”

Before I could explain, Skye’s laptop let out a long beep. She jumped a little, looked at the screen, and then motioned me over. “I’m still searching for anything on Gladys Aaron, but the age-advanced photo is done,” she said. “It was faster this time because I’ve got the hang of the software.”

I walked toward her, and Agent Smith trailed behind me. “At least I’ll know what she looks like, in case she shows up at the bar herself,” I said. But as I looked at the screen, instant recognition slammed into me like a ton of bricks.

The age advancing program hadn’t changed the blonde hair of her childhood, but it was easy for me to picture her with darker hair and wearing a siren-red cocktail dress.

“Goddamn it, that’s Ann,” I said, feeling like someone had reached down my throat and squeezed my guts. “The woman from the poker game. The one I thought was in trouble.” I was sick with rage at her betrayal, the way she’d flirted with me and played the damsel in distress. She must have known who I really was. After all, she’d talked to me at least twice before Monte Carlo.

Skye drew in a surprised breath. “So, you really think she’s Presley?”

“She has to be. I mean, while I was there …” I trailed off and remembered her talking to the blowhard drunk who’d been harassing her. Something about arranging a delivery. “She was selling Henry’s drugs. That was the ‘business’ she had to take care of. It’s definitely her.”

Agent Smith leaned closer and looked at the image on the screen. “Amazing,” she said. “We’ve been after Presley for years, and you find him … I mean, her, in less than a week. You’re saying she’s the one who’s holding your team members hostage?”

“Yeah, she is,” I said through clenched teeth. “And we’re going to bring her down, tomorrow morning. Walk with me,” I said to the agent as I started for the interrogation room. “You can take her stupid trash brother with you, and I’ll fill you in on the plan for tomorrow.”

We headed out, and I made myself calm down so I could think clearly. Part of me refused to believe that it had all been an act. Ann had seemed genuinely distressed at the poker game, and there was nothing hateful in that kiss. At all. But I couldn’t let my guard down by thinking she might be innocent. Not when she had Ronnie and Lisa.

One way or another, I’d know everything tomorrow.

37

I kept the rented sedan and drove to Boulder City the next morning, arriving at Club Ace about ten minutes early. There was only one vehicle in the parking lot, a battered old Chevy Bel Air, and all the neon signs were turned off, although there was a light on inside the place.

When I got out of the car, the first thing I did was activate my suit. I had no idea what to expect here, but if Team Aaron’s tactics so far were any indication, the bar was probably full of soldiers. I headed for the entrance, activating the blast weapon on the suit, and then I opened the door.

That was when some kind of invisible force hit me from inside the place and knocked me back to land on the ground. As I lay there, momentarily stunned, the suit crackled and buzzed a few times before it broke apart and melted off me. It didn’t even pull into the backpack, just formed a puddle of black goo on the pavement.

“What the hell?” I snarled, scrambling to my feet. As I started to go for my pen, a figure stepped through the open doorway.

It was the Elvis impersonator, and he had a gun pointed at me.

“Hello, Roger,” Presley said through the fake Elvis. The voice was strained and uncertain, but the gun was steady. “Keep your hands up where I can see them. I will shoot if I have to.”

Unfortunately, I believed him. Well, he was technically a her right now. I raised my hands and glared at Presley, wishing this was actually her so I could confront the bitch. “What did you blast me with?”

Not Really Elvis shrugged. “Just a small EMP. You know what that is, don’t you?” Presley said. “Electromagnetic pulses can fry any non-hardened tech, including your fancy suit. And your phone, so you can’t call for backup.”

Great. Part of my plan involved contacting Agent Smith when I needed her. At least I knew she’d show up here if I didn’t call when I was supposed to, but now I’d have to hope that wouldn’t be too late. “Fine, you got me,” I said. “Where are Ronnie and Lisa?”

“They’re out back. As soon as you come with me, they’ll be released,” Presley said. “So, you just head over to that car, and—”

“Hell, no. I don’t trust you,” I said, keeping my hands up as I tried to think of as many ways to stall as possible. “I’m not going anywhere until you show me they’re safe. And I mean in person, not on some video feed.”

The Elvis impersonator shook his head, and then gestured with his free hand. “All right, I’ll show you. Come inside.”

I hesitated for a few seconds before I started toward the entrance. Presley kept the gun on me the whole time, moving back only slightly to let me pass, and then said, “Past the bathrooms and out the back door. If your hands go down, I’ll shoot.”

Gritting my teeth, I started across the bar for the hallway leading to the bathrooms. I pushed open the exterior door with my hip, and Presley reached out behind me to hold it open as I stepped through, and then moved outside with me.

Behind the bar was a large area surrounded by the stockade fence I’d noticed the first time I came to this place, which looked like a scrap yard. The ground was bare, hard-packed dirt, and the space was littered with the rusting hulks of appliances, furniture, and vehicles. “Yeah, I love what you’ve done with the place,” I said as I scanned the junk and came around to face Presley. “So, where are they?”

Fake Elvis nodded to the right, at a derelict car that looked like it’d been sitting there since the sixties. “Over there, tied up in the back seat. You can look, but don’t touch,” Presley said, pulling a small device with a blinking light from a pocket. “I push this button, and they go boom.”

Cold chills shot down my spine as I approached the car slowly and peered through one of the filthy back windows. I could just make out two figures inside, one lying across the back seat and the other curled on the floor. As I watched, the figure on the seat stirred and struggled weakly, but didn’t get very far.

“Goddamn it,” I spat as I whirled to face Presley. “Get them out of there, right now.”

“Like I said. They’ll be released when you come with me.” Presley made an emphatic gesture with the gun … and that was when I noticed that the hand holding the detonator was shaking slightly. “Now, get your ass back out front and—”

“Hold on a minute,” I said, still stalling until the time Agent Smith was supposed to show up. Plus, the small part of me that still wanted to believe that the woman I met in Monte Carlo wasn’t really a supervillain had piped back up, whispering that maybe there was a chance I could talk her down. “You don’t really want to do this, do you? I mean, you really seemed to like me when we met at the poker game.”

Presley recoiled like I’d smacked her Elvis puppet in the face. “You know who I am,” the man she was possessing whispered. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Monte Carlo doesn’t matter, either. Nothing does.” Now both hands were shaking, and the gun drifted down slightly before Fake Elvis lifted it again with renewed resolve. “You’re coming with me, right now.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” I said, taking a cautious step toward Presley. “How about instead of trading my pen for the girls, I trade your brother?”

“You have him?” Presley said hoarsely. “You … you actually took Henry down?”

I gave a deliberate nod. “He’s in the custody of the FBI right now,” I said. “So, if you want him back—”

“No, I don’t want him,” Presley said, this time lowering the gun on purpose as a haunted expression spread across the Elvis impersonator’s face. “You have to kill him. I mean it.”

I frowned. “Does this mean you aren’t working with your brother?”

“No! I mean, yes, but …” Presley shuddered out a breath. “He’s a monster. I had to do what he said, I had no choice. He only lets me live because I own the pen, but if I ever gave it to him …”

“He’d kill you. Right?” I said as I took a chance and lowered my arms slowly.

“Yes, but that’s not the only reason I haven’t given it to him.” Presley’s features crumpled, and I thought Fake Elvis might start crying. That would be pretty bizarre. “He can’t have this kind of power. I’ll never let him. And if the FBI really has him, they need to just kill him. Before he gets away.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” I said, moving another step forward. “I want to believe you, I really do. But—”

“I don’t want your pen!” Presley cried. “I didn’t want to kidnap those women, I don’t want to blow them up, I don’t want any of this! Here, I’ll let them go right now. You can have the gun, the detonator, everything. Just kill my brother. Please.”

Just as the possessed Elvis started for the car that held Ronnie and Lisa, there was a shimmer of light to my left and Elvis froze in place. Agent Smith stepped through the portal and looked from the unmoving figure to me. “Um, Roger?” she said. “That doesn’t look like Gladys Aaron.”

“It’s not. She’s possessing him with her pen,” I told her as I turned on a heel and headed for the car. “Listen, Ronnie and Lisa are in there, and apparently it’s wired with a bomb somehow. Can you deactivate it or something, so I can get them out? And I need to explain a few things.”

“Yes, you do,” Agent Smith said, looking at me critically. “Like, for example, why don’t you just use your pen to deactivate the bomb?”

“Oh my God, you’re right,” I groaned as I got my pen out. “Honestly, I hadn’t even thought of using it because I had the suit, and Presley would’ve just erased anything I did. Except now I know she won’t. Got any paper on that clipboard of yours?”

She raised an eyebrow and handed me a piece of paper. “What do you mean, she won’t? I thought Presley was trying to capture you and get your pen.”

“No, she wasn’t. That was all Henry,” I said as I wrote The car bomb is deactivated and then added Ronnie and Lisa are freed from their bonds. “He’s been forcing her to work with him, and all she’s been trying to do is make sure he doesn’t own the pen.”

“I see,” Agent Smith said carefully. “You’re sure of this?”

“Positive. She was about to hand over the gun and detonator and let the girls go when you got here,” I told her. “But she says we have to kill Henry, because he’s a monster and he won’t stop.”

The agent raised one perfect eyebrow. “That’s not how the FBI does things.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should make an exception,” I said, thinking of everything I’d learned about Henry Aaron, woman-beating drug lord.

Agent Smith sighed and approached the time-stopped Elvis impersonator. “Better safe than sorry,” she said as she plucked the detonator from his hand, tucked it into a pocket, and then took the gun. “Maybe you should take this,” she said, holding the gun out to me. “I already have one.”

“Yeah, I’ll hold onto it,” I said as I took the weapon and shoved it in my waistband. “So, I don’t know where the real Presley is, but I’m sure she’ll tell me now. I think we can get all this sorted out.”

“Maybe we can. But whatever happens, we need to get that pen,” Agent Smith said as she positioned her clipboard and grabbed her own pen. “Remember, she can’t give it to you, or anyone else. It has to be taken away. That way, Presley remains the owner, but the pen is inactive.”

“Got it,” I said, nodding at the clipboard. “What are you doing?”

“Unstopping time,” she said as she wrote something down.

When Agent Smith finished writing, the Elvis impersonator stumbled and almost fell, then stood there blinking. “What happened? Who are you?” Presley said in tones approaching panic. “Where …?”

Just then, there was a scrambling sound from the car and a loud bang as one of the girls kicked the door open from the inside. Ronnie climbed out, and then helped Lisa off the floor. They both looked furious as they took stock of things, and then relaxed when they saw me. “Roger!” Ronnie called as she started toward us with Lisa beside her. “Um … why is Elvis here? And who’s that?” she said, looking at the bemused FBI agent.

“It’s a really long story,” I said as I hugged her, and then Lisa. “Are you two okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Mostly pissed off,” Ronnie said as she brushed at her rumpled clothing.

A ringing phone interrupted the conversation. I knew it wasn’t mine, since the EMP had fried it. Agent Smith held a finger up, pulled out her phone and turned away to answer it.

Presley watched me warily, probably wondering how I was going to explain the Elvis impersonator and everything else. But before I could start, Agent Smith said loudly, “He did what? When?” There was a short pause, and she said, “Goddamn it, find him!”

Fake Elvis blanched as Presley went into horrified shock. “Find who?”

I had a sinking feeling I knew. But Agent Smith answered before I could guess. “Henry Aaron escaped custody an hour ago,” she said, turning back toward us with a furious expression stamped on her face. “And no one bothered to tell me until now. Someone is getting fired by the end of the day, I promise you that.”

“Oh my God,” Presley said, taking a stumbling step back and looking around as if Henry was about to show up here. “He’s going to … I have to go. Right now.”

“Wait, where are you?” I blurted. “I’ll come get you, and we’ll make sure he can’t find you.”

“Eighty-six thirty Harrison Place. It’s a private office building. Come to the top floor,” Presley said. “Please hurry.”

“What is he talking about?” Lisa said as Presley finished speaking, looking hard at the Elvis impersonator. “Is this guy insane, or what?”

Just then, Elvis shuddered all over and stared blankly into space for a few seconds, and then bolted stiff as his eyes bugged out. “Um, where the hell am I?” he said, backing away from all of us rapidly. “Who are you people? A second ago I was just sitting at home and watching Ellen. What the fuck happened?”

“Sorry, man. There’s absolutely no way to explain,” I told him. “All I can tell you is we didn’t have anything to do with it. But if it helps, you’re behind Club Ace and your car might be out front. Do you drive a Chevy Bel Air?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m going now,” he blurted, turning on a heel to head for the building at a shambling run.

“Wow. Someone’s really going to have to explain what all that was about,” Ronnie said as both she and Lisa stared after him.

“I will soon, I promise. But right now, you two need to get back to the base and let everyone know you’re okay, and I’m okay. I have to go get Ann. Presley. Or Gladys, whatever her name is,” I said, realizing I sounded just as crazy as the fake Elvis. “Um, maybe I’ll call an Uber, or—”

“You drove here, correct?” Agent Smith said smoothly. “Why don’t you have these ladies take your car home, and I’ll deliver you to Presley’s address?”

“You will?” I said, thinking that she probably meant deliver via portal. “Um. Is it safe?”

“Perfectly,” she said with a smile.

“Okay, then.” I dug the keys to the rental from my pocket and handed them to Ronnie. “You’re okay to drive, I hope?” I said. “We’re in Boulder City right now, but there’s a GPS in the car that’ll get you back to Vegas.”

Ronnie nodded slowly, took the keys and shared a glance with Lisa. “How the hell did we get to Boulder City?” she murmured, and then shrugged it off to come forward and kiss me. “Whatever happened, thank you for saving us,” she said.

“Yes. Thank you, Roger,” Lisa said. “Marty’s probably worried sick right now. Let’s drive fast, okay?” she said, taking Ronnie’s hand and practically dragging her toward the back door of the bar.

When they went in, I turned to Agent Smith. “Am I right that you’re going to make a portal for me?”

“You are correct,” she said as she picked up her pen. “Remember, don’t let Presley give you her pen. You have to take it from her, or this won’t work. Contact me when you’re both safe, and I’ll keep you updated on Henry Aaron. We will find him.” She wrote something on her clipboard, and a glowing shimmer appeared in the air in front of me.

“So, I just walk through, right?” I said.

Agent Smith nodded. “Good luck, Roger.”

“Thanks,” I said, and stepped into the magic portal.

38

Going through the portal was like taking a big breath and being unable to let it out. I was completely disoriented for a good thirty seconds, which felt like a long time as my mind panicked and tried to rationalize that I’d taken a single step in the backlot of a bar that carried me to a sidewalk in front of an office building.

When I finally managed to focus, I noticed the doors of the glass and chrome office building opening to let out a bunch of armed guards. Fantastic. Maybe Presley hadn’t gotten the chance to tell them I was coming.

But now that I could actually use my pen, there was no problem.

I grabbed my pen and the paper Agent Smith had given me and wrote All the guards in this building have decided to go to a strip club. Then I laughed out loud as the four armed men heading toward me suddenly changed direction and headed for a nearby parking lot, laughing and talking amongst themselves.

“Have fun, guys,” I said under my breath as I headed for the entrance. “You’re welcome.”

I walked inside, dodging another group of four guards headed out on my way. At least they looked happy. Even the security man behind the front desk was getting his coat, whistling as he shut things down like it was perfectly normal to leave in the middle of work and hit a strip club. I found the elevators, hit the up button, and waited a few minutes until the middle car opened with a soft chime.

As I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, an uneasy thought struck me. If no one knew that Presley was the pen holder, why would she need all these armed guards around?

The only answer I could think of was that she didn’t. Which probably meant these guys worked for Henry.

It didn’t take long for the elevator to reach the top floor. The doors opened onto a balcony overlooking a penthouse suite, with a large octagonal living room. There was a sunken seating area with a huge sectional sofa where Presley sat rigid in the center, head bowed and hair hanging over her face, next to a regrettably familiar figure.

Henry must have gotten here just when Presley stopped talking to me.

“Hello again, Roger,” Henry said, making sure I could see the gun he had pressed into his sister’s side. “I’ve just learned that my dear sister here neglected to tell me how she met you in Monte Carlo. You must’ve made quite an impression on her.” He gave me a sickening smile. “So, I did, too.”

He pushed hard with the gun, making her cry out. She shuddered all over and lifted her head slowly. As her hair fell back from her face, horrified anger surged through me when I saw the bruises and swollen eye, the scraped temple, the split lip.

“You son of a bitch,” I managed. “Let me ask you something, Henry. Is beating on women the only way you get to feel like a man?”

“You want to watch your tone, or she’s going to pay for it,” Henry said flatly. “Now, I want you to come down here and give me your pen.”

No way that was going to happen. I moved slowly across the balcony, trying to decide the best way to handle this. “How did you see this ending, Henry?” I said, working to get him as off balance as possible while I figured things out. “You get my pen and Presley’s and then what? Rule the world?”

“Not exactly. Once I have your pen, I don’t need hers,” he said with a cold sneer. “In fact, I’m going to make sure no one owns that pen. Then there’ll be no way to erase anything I do.”

I flicked my arm to send my pen into my hand, thankful that Cami had thought ahead to install a purely mechanical back-up switch to release the pen, watching him to make sure his eyes stayed on me, not my hands. “So, you’re just going to kill her,” I said as I kept moving slowly. “In that case, what’s my incentive for doing what you say?”

“You’ll do it, if you want the rest of your friends to live,” he said, shoving Presley with the gun again. “Better move a little faster, Roger. I’ve got an itchy trigger finger.”

I brought my hands together and stopped at the edge of the shallow steps leading down to the living room. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I said, bringing the tip of my pen to my palm and writing as quickly as possible. Henry has no gun. “You’re not the pen holder, she is,” I said. “And she’s not cooperating with you anymore.”

“The hell she’s not! I—” Henry broke off suddenly and pulled his arm back to stare at his empty hand. “Son of a bitch!” he roared, raising his arm high as Presley cringed and tried to scramble back from him.

I wrote on the back of my hand, Henry is tied up on the floor.

Abruptly, Henry fell off the couch as ropes wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles.

Presley scrambled up and ran toward the balcony, taking in hitching breaths. “Roger! I can’t believe you came,” she gasped, half-stumbling as her shin hit an end table. “I’m so sorry, for everything. I never wanted to do any of those things—”

“Stop right there, you little bitch!” Henry bellowed as he thrashed wildly, banging against the couch. “You do what I tell you, or …” He stopped, grunted, and there was a ripping sound as the ropes around his wrists gave way. Shit, this asshole was way stronger than he needed to be. “Or I’ll make you wish you were dead,” he said as he slapped an arm on the coffee table in front of the couch and pulled himself up with a manic gleam in his eyes. “You’ll be wishing that for weeks before I finally kill you.”

I’d had more than enough of Henry Aaron. “You know what, Presley? You’re right,” I said, reaching back to pull the gun Agent Smith had given me from my waistband. “I do have to kill him.”

Nothing in me hesitated as I pulled the trigger and put a bullet through his forehead.

Presley released a breathless cry of shock as the gun thundered through the room, and then shivered and stumbled toward me. “Is he dead?” she said hoarsely as tears started streaming from her eyes. “Oh my God, is he really dead?”

I raced the rest of the way down the steps and caught her just as she wavered and started to collapse. “Yes, he’s dead. He’s gone,” I said, holding her as tight as I dared while she shuddered against me, sobbing. I didn’t know exactly how bad he’d hurt her, and I was trying not to make it worse. “It’s going to be okay now. I promise.”

I led her gently to the nearest overstuffed chair and settled her in it, then perched on the arm next to her. “Let’s just catch a breath for a minute, and then I’ll get the FBI here to clean this up,” I said. “Don’t worry. They already know you aren’t the bad guy here.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” she whispered. “I just can’t believe …” She trailed off, and her battered face went stiff with determination as she produced a pen like mine from her pocket. “I never want to see this thing again,” she said in shaking tones. “Here, I want you to—”

“No. You can’t give it to me,” I said gently. “If you’re really not going to keep it, we have to make sure that the pen stays inactive.”

She flashed a look of distress. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Well, basically you just don’t give it to me or anyone,” I said. “I think you have to be sure that you’re not giving it away.”

“Okay, fine,” she said uncertainly. “You can’t have the pen. I’m keeping it.”

As she started to put it back in her pocket, I snatched it from her hand. And just like Wayne’s pen had when I took it from him, the color faded away until the pen looked like an ordinary ballpoint.

“There, you see?” I said, showing her the pen. “That’s what they look like when they’re inactive.”

She gave a slow blink. “You mean it won’t work anymore?”

“I don’t think so,” I said as I put the dead pen in my own pocket. “I mean, maybe it would if you took it back or I gave it to you. But then again, maybe it wouldn’t.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, because I don’t want that thing,” she said with a shiver. “I just want …” She looked at me, her green eyes filled with pain. “I don’t know what I want. It’s been so long since I had control of my life, I have no idea what to do now.”

I smiled and carefully took her hand. “Why don’t you come back to my base with me?” I said. “At least for now, until you make up your mind about things.”

“Really? You’d let me do that?” she said with a tentative smile.

“Of course. Believe me, I know none of this was your fault,” I told her.

She sank back into the chair with relief. “Thank you, again,” she said, and tilted her head up at me. “What if I decide … that I want to stay with you? I mean, I wasn’t lying when I said that I really like you. A lot.”

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” I said as I held her hand. “I really like you, too.”

She started to smile again, but her face fell. “Roger, I do want to stay with you. But I don’t have anything,” she said. “My brother controlled everything. This place isn’t even mine, it’s his. He’s been keeping me prisoner with his guards around all the time, making sure I didn’t run, and I …” She shivered, got up from the chair and walked a few paces away. “I don’t have any money or a job or anything to offer. I’d just be a burden.”

I went to her and touched her shoulder. When she turned around, I said, “I hear you’re a damned good poker player. Is that something you like doing?”

“I love it,” she said, her brow furrowing slightly. “But how’s that going to help?”

“Well, you could do that,” I told her with a smile. “Play poker, host tournaments, even become a dealer if you want to. Did I happen to mention that I own a casino?”

Her face lit up. “You do?”

“Yep. And I’m rich,” I said. “So, you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff. If you stay with me, you can do anything.” I took her hand again. “I want to take care of you, that’s all. You’ve been through enough.”

She gave a little cry and threw her arms around me. “I can’t believe it. This is amazing,” she said. “All this time I thought I’d never get away from Henry, and now …” She looked up at me and smiled. “Yes. I’d love to come with you.”

“Let’s go, then,” I said, leading her out of the room so I could make arrangements to wrap things up and bring her to the base. “I think you’re really going to love my place.”

Thank You for reading!

Curious about what happens to Roger next?

Find out in To Vegas with Love!

Author’s Note

Dear reader, if you REALLY want to read my next Pen novel- I’ve got a bit of bad news for you.

Unfortunately, NO ONE will tell you when the next comes out.

You’ll probably never know about my next books, and you’ll be left wondering what happened to Roger, Skye, and the gang. That’s rather terrible.

There is good news though! There are two ways you can find out when the next book is published:

1) You join my mailing list by clicking here.

2) You follow me on my Facebook page or join my Facebook Group. I always announce my new books in both those places as well as interact with fans.

Doing either of these, or both for best results, will ensure you find out about my next book when it is published.

If you don’t, NO ONE will ever tell you about my next release. Please take a few seconds to do either of these so you’ll be able to join Roger, Skye, and the gang on their next adventure.