Wilde Card: Immortal Vegas, Book 2 by Jenn Stark Page A

end.”
    “What made him stop in the first place?”
    “Let’s just say that the experimentation of the sixties had a stronger impact on the Council than it should have. We’d been based in Las Vegas for about thirty years by then, and the city was a whirl of graft and booze and money and drugs. Some of that was bound to find its way to the Council, as there are always seats to fill. But twisted up with psychic abilities of an altered level…”
    This history lesson on the Arcana Council was already way more interesting than the high school Western Civ class I’d never finished. “What kind of drugs, and what kind of impact?” I tried to imagine Armaeus hopped up on coke or LSD. Failed. “You guys all seem pretty capable of holding your liquor.”
    “Some of us better than others. But that wasn’t precisely the experiment that turned the Council inward. Armaeus is a bit of a slave to his concept of balance, and he allowed himself to be swayed by the dark side. Quite literally.”
    “What do you mean, dark?” I frowned. “I didn’t think you guys worked with the dark practitioners, not directly. Same way you don’t work with the light.”
    Kreios shrugged. “Any may ascend to the Council if the conditions are right. Light, dark, neutral. One must simply be selected by an existing Council member in full standing.” His lips twisted. “And there must be an empty position. It was Armaeus’s error that he didn’t recognize the danger of both conditions being present in a world where the line between real and apparent abilities had effectively blurred.”
    I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea of dark practitioners on the Council. “But I’ve met—Sweet Christmas, you mean Eshe?”
    Kreios laughed. “Despite her challenging nature, Eshe is neutral. Her abilities to interpret the future would be compromised otherwise. But the Council is now comprised of nine seated positions. How many have you met? Not even half.”
    The bells of the front door pealed again, and Kreios glanced up, his smile wide and welcoming toward the young man who pushed into the store. “Simon, well-timed as always.”
    “It’s what I do.” The Fool grinned at me, appearing to be every inch the twenty-four-year-old hacker he presented himself as, and I tried not to stare. No way could he be on the dark side. No matter how many times he hacked the Pentagon.
    “Hey.” He nodded to me. “Found a new Reposado we need to try once we knock over the Rarity. Seriously smooth.” He waggled his brows. “I promise not to leave you hanging this time.”
    “Not going to happen, Simon.” That was the name I knew him by, anyway, but in the short time I’d known him, I’d also heard the Fool referred to as Raven, Gwydion, Kutkh, Hermes, and every other trickster god from the mythologies of the world that happened to catch his attention. He refused Loki, of course, since that was overdone, but there was no denying he could pass as a younger, distinctly crazier version of Tom Hiddleston. Which was a good look on him, if slightly unsettling. Especially combined with the double T-shirt, worn jeans, and camo Chucks he was sporting, his wavy hair constrained under a Deadpool skullcap.
    How old Simon actually was, I wasn’t quite sure. He’d never told me when he’d been incarnated onto the Council, but I got the impression he was new enough to at least understand the tech revolution, even if he’d been kicking around before the birth of it. Then again, he did tend to favor steampunk anime, so there really was no telling.
    Now he fairly bounced on his toes. “So, the airport? Really? Kind of slumming it a bit.” He lifted the leather case I never saw him without, a beat-up messenger bag bristling with electronics. “I bet we can go straight into the show and get what we want.”
    “Not worth the risk.” Kreios shook his head. “The Rarity has exceptional security.”
    “Yeah, yeah, Techy-zee.” Simon shoved his hands in his