You Can't Keep a Good Bitch Down

You Can’t Keep a Good Bitch Down

Part I

Bacchae had a problem. Okay, Bacchae had a lot of problems all the time always, but today he was dealing with a very specific problem. An economic problem. This was his least favorite kind.

It had all started a week ago, when he’d gotten the news that a strange sort of… ship had pulled right up to Discord and parked. Normally, he wouldn’t have batted an eye about it, but this ship was at least as large as a fucking aircraft carrier, probably bigger, and glowed as bright as a spotlight on a hangover. So he’d sent some people over to check it out.

The ship was named “Bourbon Street,” and it was more like the Vegas strip than any boat. It had restaurants, theaters, and casinos, the gem of which was called the Tombstone. That popular establishment, and the whole of Bourbon Street was apparently owned by a daemon named Holliday.

This was when Bacchae knew he had a problem. That name. He never could have forgotten it. Back before he’d been gone, Holliday had been some stupid twerp who happened to get lucky and beat him at cards once. Who’da thunk he would’ve become such a big shot in his absence? What a pain in the ass.

So now he had another problem on top of everything else. That smug fucking bastard was sapping Discord’s nightlife. What with Sixth Avenue largely vacant at the moment, this was an issue. Discord lived and died on its nightlife. Again, economic problem. The most fiddly and annoying of quandaries.

“Wan’ me to go over there and bash some skulls in?” Jack asked, licking his lips.

He’d noticed Bacchae pondering the situation on his throne. Pondering here meaning chain-smoking and being upset about the whole thing.

But he sighed. “No,” he said, flicking a cigarette butt halfway across the room, “as fucking hilarious as that would be, that sends the wrong message.”

“You’re probably right,” Jack’s head dropped an inch. “This isn’t a fascist regime, I s’pose.”

“What? No, it tells that dickhead that I had to resort of violence!”

“I don’t get it.”

“That means he’s won!”

Ugh. This was such a headache. Bacchae very well couldn’t just waltz over there in the flesh. That was beneath him. And no, it wasn’t just because he was afraid Holliday would take him for all he was worth shut up.

What he needed was for someone to go down there and wipe that smug grin off that dickcheese’s mug. Someone clever, someone with a fantastic poker face and nerves of steel.

Too bad he couldn’t think of anyone like that. Well, anyone who was still in Discord, at least.

Maybe if he just kept sulking, the problem would go away all on its own. Just maybe… this would all work out exactly how he was hoping it would.

~~ o ~~

If there was one thing that Reina Cullen was the most proud of, it was her office. Not the one at the hospital, that one was plain by necessity. But the room she’d set aside in her brownstone flat on Beacon Hill, that was her baby, right there.

Reina was of the belief that you could tell a lot about a person by how they kept their office, and she’d engineered hers accordingly. The walls were painted a dark shade of maroon to match the antique wood of the floor. On the left side was a brick fireplace, its mantle adorned with nicely framed photos of herself, her mom, and her cat. The right wall was where she displayed her doctorate and her several awards. Towards the back was a small bar, stocked mostly with bourbon and tequila, while her desk was situated in the very middle of the room. It was an old, antique oak that she’d picked up from an architectural salvage place down by Cambridge, and it had cost her a pretty penny to get it restored. But it had all been worth it, as it held such a certain wisdom and charm to it that you just couldn’t get with modern pieces.

There wasn’t much on it, of course, Reina didn’t actually do much work here. Primarily she used it for consultations with clients, those that had more specific problems that required more care and comfort than the hospital could give, though she often used it to entertain friends or business associates as well.

Sometimes, she also chose this room to drink in when it was late at night and she was alone. She liked to think it was because it reminded her of everything she’d gained in her short time as a professional, but really it was simply because it was the room with the least amount of windows. She’d been doing that much more often the last two years.

Reina was trying to break the habit. It had been two years, after all. Two years past the time she’d been allotted.

But still, sometimes on particularly cloudy nights when the lights of the city glowed eerily and the fog rolled in thick and heavy, she’d find herself hunkered down in the office, a glass of bourbon clutched in her hand. Waiting. Waiting for something she hoped would never come.

It was the night she promised herself she’d never do this again that that something did.

Reina’s eyes were closing, and she was finally losing the battle against sleep, huddled deep in her leather office chair, when her eyes briefly fluttered open again. She could have sworn that there had been something, wind maybe, just at the edge of hearing. Still, that wasn’t enough to keep her from closing them again, when someone laughed. She shot up in her chair, suddenly wide awake. But the office was exactly as it should be: quiet and still. Maybe she hadn’t really heard anything, and the noises were just something that her exhausted brain had made up to scare her. So she took another sip of her drink and tried to relax.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ignore me,” said a voice, and Reina jumped to her feet. She knew that voice. Of course she did. It was a little impossible to forget when it constantly haunted her every waking moment. It was the voice of the daemon.

It sighed as she turned around wildly. “You won’t be able to see me, so don’t bother trying.”

“Then… then how do I know that you’re real?” she asked. “If you’re not here, I could have just made you up entirely. It’s the stress. It’s making me hallucinate.”

“I find it hard to believe that you’d make up your entire life up until now.”

“What are you talking about…?”

As the voice chuckled, Reina felt shivers run down her spine.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our deal.”

Reina was shaking now. This couldn’t be happening. Not when she’d finally achieved the life she’d spent years dreaming of, when everything she ever wanted was firmly in her grasp. Not when she’d finally convinced herself that that thing that had caused her every dream to come true had just been a nightmare she’d had all those years ago. Desperately, she decided her only option was to play dumb.

“I don’t remember, it was such a long time ago. What do you mean?”

“Just what I said: your entire life. Reina Cullen: miracle brain surgeon at the tender age of twenty-seven. They say she can perform surgeries previously thought impossible. But just where did he get such steady hands?”

Right now, her hands were not steady. They were clenched into fists and shaking. She was slightly surprised to find herself, of all things, angry. “This… this isn’t fair,” she said. “I have so much more to accomplish.”

“Hey,” the daemon growled. “I gave you an extra two years. I’d say that’s pretty generous, all things considered.”

“Five wasn’t enough in the first place!”

“The only person you have to blame is yourself. Or… oh, I see why you’re so upset. Did you really think I wouldn’t come to collect? That’d I’d just forget about you and you’d get out of this deal scott free? Well, tough shit. You might have even gotten away with it, if things had shaken out a little differently. Some people just have the worst luck.”

“Please,” Reina gasped as she scooted backwards towards the wall, though she couldn’t really be sure where the voice was coming from. “I’ll do anything! I just need more time!”

A large sigh reverberated around the usually dense room. “Every time with the begging. Sorry, Dr. Cullen, but a deal is a deal. The saddest part is that you probably didn’t even need my help at all. It might have taken a few more years, but if you had just worked hard at your studies you very well might have become that miracle brain surgeon you always dreamed of. Except that you were just so impatient that you needed a shortcut. I feel no sympathy for people like you.”

“No, no, no, please, wa—!”

But Reina was cut off as, quite of its own accord, her head suddenly jerked skyward. Her mouth stretched open in a silent scream as something used that orifice as an entrance. For a moment, both she and the daemon experienced an incredible amount of pain as the flesh struggled to maintain its coherency with two souls inside of it.

Then, with an unnerving crack, her body nearly doubled over. It was only after complete stillness for far too long that she spasmed once, twice, and something emerged from her forehead. Neither liquid nor gas, but something in the middle, it glowed a sterile white. It was the soul of Reina Cullen.

The daemon who had stolen her face glanced up at it, and then straightened, blinking a few times. She plucked the soul from her forehead and held it up to examine it, bemused. After a small chuckle, she popped it into her mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully. “Ugh, disinfectant. I should have known,” she sighed. “But there is such an intriguing ego finish. Hmm, all in all, not bad.”

Stretching, she wiggled her extremities around for a minute, getting used to the shape. She took one deep breath, then another. That was when she spotted the half-finished glass of bourbon Reina had left on the desk. Excellent choice for washing down a good soul, she must say. The daemon downed it in one swig, then shook herself.

“Alright, don’t freak out yet,” she muttered under her breath, the expression on her face hardening. “You’ve still got some shit to do.”

Taking stock of Reina’s memories, her life, the daemon determined that she could wrap up any necessary loose ends in about forty-eight hours. Once that was done, it was time to head home.

Because if anyone thought they could keep Kei from Discord for long, then they had a big storm coming.

~~ o ~~

Alright, so Kei had lied. She tended to do that. It actually only took her thirty-six hours. She’d figured it would be a much more trying process to find someone to take the cat. But here she was with a suitcase full of dollar bills that she could exchange for bones once she arrived at her destination, and a brand new body with which to fuck shit up.

Reina had been a stellar investment. She’d had about fifty K in liquid assets for Kei to withdraw, and she was smoking hot on top of that. Her body also… felt good to reside in, natural. It was a body she’d like to stick with for a while, if possible.

But, first things first: get back to Discord, get home, then figure out a plan which would enable her to go about her business in the city without being hunted down like a dog. Like she said, she wanted to keep this body. It was a tall order. Though that was the thing about big schemes, it was often very easy to break them down into smaller pieces.

Like what she could do right this second, which was to create a door. Kei supposed she could have gone through the Other, and if she was going to any other place she might have had to. But she was so familiar with Discord and where it was in the grand scheme of the cosmos that she could just make a door right there.

Any door would do, really. So it was with the suitcase in one hand, and a backpack slung over her shoulder stuffed full with some of the cooler pieces she’d snatched from Reina’s closet, that she stood in front of the door leading out of the office.

Those less experienced in traversal might need some chalk or something to help them visualize the shapes. But the important part was the shapes themselves. Kei pointed a finger towards the door and drew a series of circular symbols in the air. After which she held her breath, gripped the handle firmly, and pushed it open.

Beyond the threshold was not Reina’s hallway, but a somewhat dirty alley. The air that blew into the room smelled like cigarette smoke and mold. Ahh, smelled like home. Without hesitation, Kei stepped through the door and onto the street beyond.

Any other time, Kei would have immediately relaxed upon re-emerging at her destination, but that wasn’t in the cards for her today. With her new body, it should be fairly easy to slip through the streets unnoticed. As long as she didn’t say her name or let anyone else get too close at least. Yet there was always the chance that someone might recognize her. She didn’t really know how it worked, but daemons had ways of identifying each other, despite constantly changing faces.

So she kept her head down and avoided the more crowded streets. This proved to be less of a challenge than she initially expected. It was the early evening, after all. This should be the time when Discord came alive.

It bugged her, just a little. Malachi had been one thing, but if even Bacchae himself was a less competent leader than she would have been, then oh would she have words for… someone. Probably herself in the mirror, where else do you think she came up with all these amazing one-liners?

That was something for her to look into later. For now she’d finally managed to make it to her place. No one in the entirety of the cosmos knew where it was, that is, except for Kei herself, so don’t bother asking. All you need to know is that it was nondescript, but certainly not a shithole. Ultimately, that was all that really mattered to her.

The door was located in a particularly curvy alley, down a set of cracked, concrete stairs that led below the street. “Garden Level” her ass. The door didn’t have a key. A lot of them didn’t in Discord. It’d be very annoying to have to change the locks every time you had to abandon an old body. It did have a padlock though, in this case, a shitty bike one. Not the greatest security, but what person would hide anything valuable behind a fucking bike lock?

Well, Kei, of course. But no one needed to know that. She quickly plugged in the code, 7-0-3-3-7, largely by muscle memory alone, and the sheet metal door creaked open. After replacing the lock on the other side now, Kei closed the door firmly behind her, froze for a second, then certain that she was alone, promptly collapsed against it.

It might be very easy to forget that Kei had escaped from Bacchae’s labyrinth less than two days ago. She was very good at hiding it, even from herself. But now that she was alone, and safe, Kei gave herself thirty seconds to cry.

Even still, she did it quietly, just a few stuttering breaths and stray tears that fell from her eyes as she curled up behind the door.

It hadn’t even been all that surprising, the things she’d seen down there. Psychological torture was the word of the day, and there were a few very specific things that we all know could have gotten under her skin. She really didn’t want to think about it anymore. The falling in and out of hallucinations, the regrets that haunted her, the ghost that wouldn’t stop following her around down there. Whatever. It wasn’t anything she didn’t already know she was guilty of.

If anything, the most traumatizing part had been being without a body for so long. Some daemons didn’t mind it, a few actually preferred it, but Kei couldn’t stand being without one. It felt wrong, uncomfortable, like being in public without any clothes on. It felt like at any moment her very being would just drift apart and she wouldn’t even exist anymore. Without a body, she was out of control, and Kei didn’t like being out of control.

She opened her eyes, and stared down at Reina’s hands. There was always a small amount of dysphoria that accompanied a new bodily acquisition, but this time it was really bad. Even if she was clenching them, bringing them to Reina’s face, she didn’t feel like she was really here.

But she was here. Reina Cullen was not here, in this flesh anymore. Kei was. These were Kei’s hands. Kei’s face.

She knew why this felt wrong. And her thirty seconds were up anyway. Kei forced herself to her feet, and stumbled through her living room towards the toilet in the back. Shutting the door behind her, she opened the cabinet under the sink, and immediately found exactly what she was looking for. The leather case was covered in dust, but inside, in perfect condition, were her needles and ink.

Lifting up her skirt, Kei located an unblemished spot on her inner thigh and got to work. When she was done, wincing a little from the pain, she had a small, indigo crescent moon tattooed there. Now this body was hers. Now she could feel the burn of the new tattoo and know that she was really here.

She had done this to every body she’d inhabited, and inevitably this wouldn’t be the last.

Though still out of sorts, Kei knew that she had to pull herself together. A little calmer now, she grabbed the discarded backpack and headed for her bedroom. Trying on some of her new acquisitions would make her feel better, because goddamn it felt good to finally have a proper hourglass figure. She never wanted to be a teenager ever again.

A few hours later, Kei ventured out to treat herself to a little snack, and that was when she first heard about Bourbon Street. An interloper who was ticking off Bacchae, huh? Oh, yeah. That was definitely something she could use.

As they were wont to do, the gears in Kei’s brain were already turning. With a little work, she could make this turn out exactly as she was hoping it would.

Part II

Bourbon Street was even bigger than she’d heard. It towered over every other vessel in the docks, even though it was situated a fair bit away off into the Other. It was only getting bigger as Kei sat in the middle of the ferry filled with excited daemons, approaching its hulking mass.

The underbelly of the ship was highly mechanical, cogs and gears and belts collectively releasing a low hum. The small amount of steam that was billowing from several orifices made it a bit difficult to make out the specifics. Not that anyone was really looking down there. Not when the surface was so spectacular.

Bourbon Street had a flat top, upon which rested a literal street. It was very easy to see because of how many lights there were. Spotlights, lamps, floodlights, they were everywhere, bathing the city in an eternal sunset. There were so many that the usual greens and purples of the Other were dyed in varying shades of yellows and oranges. So many that they glistened off of the bubble of reality surrounding it.

Although if what Kei had heard was correct, it wasn’t a true reality at all, and that bubble was being generated by some sort of engine. Not that it really mattered much to her. It wasn’t as if it was for her benefit.

She’d heard a lot of things about Bourbon Street over the last few days. It was a floating pleasure quarter. Nearly every type of entertainment could be found there. There was apparently even a mini-golf course. But what Bourbon Street was really known for were its casinos. Somehow, even with half the buildings on the boulevard consisting of them they still made bank. It made sense, considering that the whole ship was owned by a gambling man. That’s why his casino was the gem of the strip. The majestic Tombstone Casino. It was so classy that only discerning individuals of a high reputation were even allowed through the front door. And that was on days when Holliday wasn’t present in the establishment. When he was, it had what was known as a “high roller’s day”.

Of course, that’s right where Kei was headed. Because the icing on the cake of all of this was that Bacchae wasn’t just upset about this development. He was furious. Apparently he and Holliday had some sort of history, and Holliday had parked Bourbon Street just far enough away from the mainland that if he wanted to do something about it, Bacchae would have to come to him.

Honestly, he sounded like Kei’s type of guy. A shame she wasn’t here to make friends. Even if she wanted to change her mind now, she really couldn’t. Her attire made it quite clear who her allegiances lied with.

Though the style of her dress might have been more aligned with Holliday’s reputed old-fashioned sentimentalities, what with its long, wide skirt and high waistline, it was also a vibrant shade of green. It was an especially bold choice to go with Kei’s now bright red hair and blue eyes, but she made it work.

If it was up to her, she would have chosen a much more subtle way of conveying which horse she was betting on. But she couldn’t think like herself here. She had to think like Bacchae. Admittedly, Kei wasn’t all that familiar with the man, but she felt as if she had an extra amount of insight, for whatever reason.

Bacchae was more concerned about making a statement than he was about being subtle, or clever. So Kei had chosen a shade of chartreuse so bright that she’d be noticed anywhere in the casino. That was what she wanted, after all.

Finally, the fans on the back of the ferry slowed as they pulled into the little docking station on the edge of the street. A few attendants stood by to help with luggage or offer directions, but Kei wasn’t staying long and she knew exactly where she was heading, so she passed on by. She couldn’t help noticing the worried glances they shot in her direction with a hint of satisfaction.

Much like Discord, there were a variety of architectural periods and styles represented in the buildings along the stone brick boulevard, but unlike Discord, each had very common aesthetic sensibilities. Many of the restaurants and other smaller venues had terraces on their second floors, while some of the bigger ones had wrap-around balconies. All were made in a very similar color palette of exciting reds and blues. It was a little disarming. It was also probably on purpose.

As she made her way further down, the buildings started to become more grand and ostentatious. There were several luxurious hotels and even a European-styled opera house, but Kei’s eyes were quickly drawn away towards the road’s terminating point. There was her destination: the Tombstone Casino.

Its front awning was made of flat boards, much like a saloon from the old west, but behind that Kei could spot a positively sprawling compound of stately stone. Even for her it was a touch intimidating. But if she had incurred the Lord of Discord’s wrath and lived to tell the tale, she could handle this easily.

There was a small line at the door, and she waited for her turn patiently. She was a professional, after all. She also used that time to observe the bouncers. There was a smaller man and a bigger one; the latter seemed to be mostly for intimidation, as it was always the smaller one who called the shots. He made most of his decisions quickly, letting about half the potential patrons through the threshold. But every once in a while he would pause and stay very still before passing his verdict. She didn’t know how, but Kei suspected he must be communicating with someone. Whoever that was, that was the person she actually had to impress.

After a few minutes, it was finally her turn to approach the bouncer. “Good evening,” she smiled, entirely confident that he would let her in.

As expected, he narrowed his eyes at her. “And what’s your name, doll?”

“That’s not really important, is it?” she asked, not particularly interested in letting the management know who she was.

“’Fraid it is. Known entities only at the Tombstone. Security risk, ya know?”

“But I’ve got the bones to play,” she brushed her skirt meaningfully. “Besides, my... employer is very interested in this establishment.” Smiling coyly, she tilted her head a little to the side and rested it on the second knuckles of her fingers. The ring finger just happened to have a signet on it. It was round and silver, with two curving patterns carved into it, revealing emerald underneath. If you squinted, those carvings very well might have resembled goat horns.

It was absolutely bogus. The Tea Party had no such signet. And yet, the bouncer froze, his gaze fixed squarely on it. A second later he blinked, just once, and straightened. “Go on in, Miss,” he grumbled, stepping aside.

She winked as she walked past. The bouncer may not have known who she was “working for”, but whoever it was who was really in charge. Oh yeah, they knew.

Well, that was the hard part taken care of. Kei was entering the lion’s den now, but she was more than confident that she would pull through. This was her only shot, after all. She wouldn’t even consider failure as an option. So there was no way she could mess it up.

~~ o ~~

Dominick had been working as a dealer in the Tombstone for a long time. It hadn’t really been his choice, though it wasn’t as if most anyone who worked on Bourbon Street really had a choice. Just like every sad bastard in the joint, Dominick was working off his debt to Holliday. The man was a card daemon, quite literally. If he’d known that at the time he never would have tried his luck like he did.

Though he supposed he was one of the lucky ones. Dealing in the Blackjack room was pretty easy, all things considered. You didn’t even need to know that much about cards. Which he didn’t. That’s how he ended up in this mess in the first place. He didn’t know much about daemons either, if he was honest. Bourbon Street had kind of just... appeared one day out of nowhere. It’d been quite a shock to discover that it was actually an interdimensional ship. But he tried not to think about stuff like that. It made his head hurt less.

Mostly, Dominick just focused on dealing cards and tried not to get too out of his depth with the patrons. This was a pretty classy joint, he guessed it had to be, considering. So he never had much trouble with them, though he often ogled at the ridiculous amounts of dol—uh, bones they’d gamble away. If there was one thing that was the same anywhere, it’s that rich people were ridiculous.

They all kind of blurred together, if he was honest. But every once in a while someone would leave a lasting impression. And the woman who had just emerged from the smoky haze that surrounded the entrance? In just a few minutes he’d be quite sure that he’d never forget her.

Her initial appearance was certainly striking, of course. The short, auburn hair really contrasted with the green dress, both of which were cut to emphasize her rather long, thin neck. But it was more so her demeanor that actually drew his eye. She strutted across the room with no hesitation, no awe at the intricately-carved columns that lined the room or the massive crystal chandelier that hung over their heads, even if he knew she’d never been here before. She was a woman on a mission, and that mission seemed to be to get the entire room to notice her by sheer presence alone.

Though she didn’t necessarily succeed, many of the patrons and dealers were too focused on their games to pay attention to anything else, Dominick definitely did.

Maybe that’s why her eyes landed on his table. Before he knew it, she had sat down at an empty seat, and placed a stack of chips in front of her. It was pretty modest compared to most others who played at the Tombstone—it couldn’t have been more than fifty-thousand bones altogether—but the calm confidence on her face made it seem like a mountain.

She waited patiently for the current round to end, then perked up when he turned to her. “Hi,” she said. “My name’s Kei, what’s yours, sweetheart?” Her somewhat husky voice contrasted oddly with her perky demeanor. Was she a daemon? Dominick wasn’t usually very good at telling, but every once in a while an incongruity like this stuck out.

“It’s, uh, Dominick,” he mumbled. “Are you here to join this round?”

“Sure!” she grinned, then when the rest of the table waited for her. “Sorry, it’s been a long time since I last played.”

“Oh, no problem,” he nodded, though internally he groaned a little as he prepared to recite the explanation he’d made hundreds of times by now. “It’s pretty simple. You’re trying to make the cards in front of you add up to twenty-one...” she listened closely to his explanation, nodding all the while. “Then everybody place your bets please,” he addressed the table. One man got up, probably not wanting to play with a newbie. Of the other two, the older woman who was in here nearly every day threw in a moderate amount of chips, and the person of a somewhat ambiguous gender threw in one small, five-hundred bone chip. They were running on credit at this point. It probably wouldn’t be long till they were either kicked out or tethered to Bourbon Street permanently.

Kei thought for a second, then laid down two of the yellow, thousand-bone chips. A decently cautious bet for the first round.

Dominick dealt the cards out, paying slightly more attention to Kei’s than the others, especially after he dealt her an ace. “Oh,” she said. “If I remember right, this is either a one or an eleven, yeah?”

He nodded. “So with your five, you’ve got either a six or a sixteen.”

Her eyes narrowing, she glanced over at his cards. The one that was face up was a ten.

“Alright,” she said finally. “Hit me.”

So he did, flipping a seven of clubs on top of her other cards. The ace had to be a one now, or she’d be over twenty-one. Now she had a total of thirteen. “Hit me,” she said again, and his heart sank as he lay down a nine. That was a twenty-two. “Oh, I lost,” she frowned, looking a little dejected as the others made their plays.

Finally, he made his own play against the older woman, who was the only one at the table who hadn’t busted. His face-down card happened to be a four. So he drew another. It was another nine. He busted as well. The older woman giggled in delight as she received double her bet.

But Dominick couldn’t help glancing over at Kei. If she’d stood on her original sixteen she would have won. It was a rookie mistake he’d seen too many times. She was probably going to lose all her bones by the end of the night, unless she cut her losses early. At least, that was his prediction.

It would quickly be proven just how very wrong he was.

~~ o ~~

The woman in green was no novice, Holliday could tell that right away. From the very instant she’d walked through the door, in fact. It had nothing to do with her demeanor, or confidence. Rather, it was her eyes, the way they analyzed everything in that room with quick, darting movements.

Besides, there was no way Bacchae would send anything less than a professional. At least, he would assume not.

And she had to be one of Bacchae’s. The green dress was so stunningly obvious. If it was anyone else, one would think too obvious, but that was exactly the sort of move he would make. And even if she somehow wasn’t, she’d been smart enough to find the best way to get his attention.

Holliday sat in a high-backed chair, observing the Blackjack room from high above, shielded behind one-way glass. Well, mostly one way. There was just enough light in the room behind him that if someone down below squinted, they might be able to just make out his silhouette.

He watched her closely. Maybe a little too closely. The pit bosses could only do so much on days like this without his assistance.

Lady Luck seemed to be on his side today though, as she usually was. And he always listened to her when she called. No one seemed to be looking for trouble. Except that one fellow who also happened to be playing at the table with the woman in green. Though that wasn’t an issue of trouble so much as one of... opportunity. They’d been playing on credit for the past day or so now.

Holliday snapped his fingers, and one of his bodyguards appeared beside him. “Rank,” the corners of his mouth raised just an inch. “That gentlefolk down there has been taking advantage of our hospitality for a mite too long, I reckon. Get someone to deal with them for me, would’ya? I’ll be down to have a chat with them in a few hours.”

“Course, boss,” the large man rumbled, before stepping out of the room.

Leaning back, Holliday grabbed the lowball off the table next to him and swirled the glass, before taking a big swig. Normally he took his bourbon straight up, but mixed into an old-fashioned like this wasn’t bad on occasion. He loosened his string tie a little and sat back in his chair. Now that all was calm, it was time for the show.

There was only one way to win at Blackjack. Well, one way besides being exceptionally lucky, and that was to count cards. It was especially easy at a casino like Holliday’s, where they only used one deck. Call him sentimental or old-fashioned. But one deck was traditional, and so it would be. Though if anyone tried to call him much of anything, they’d been dealing those tables themselves before they could so much as snicker.

Besides, the Tombstone didn’t need to be as cautious as other casinos. That was the trap. Someone’s souls were needed to power Bourbon Street, after all.

This one wouldn’t go so fast, though. She was working for Bacchae. He wanted to at least have a chat with her first. So he would see how she played, and then make up his mind from there.

The first round or two the woman in green played sub-optimally. She thought the only person she really had to fool was the dealer. That’s why she had chosen that donkey Dominick. She didn’t know that she was already playing against Holliday.

He’d been keeping track of the count since she’d put her hat in this ring. Subtracting and adding in his head as the cards came out. It was easy enough to do once you got the hang of it, though much harder to look as if you weren’t doing calculations in your head. The woman in green was doing a very good job of keep her face placid, except that he occasionally caught her hand twitching under the table as she did the math.

Normally, it would be a difficult endeavor to see just what the cards were from all the way up here, but for Holliday it wasn’t a problem.

Abruptly, at three rounds in, she started making the right moves. No one else noticed, of course. She still kept her bets small and her face clueless. As he kept watching, Holliday found himself impressed. She made very few errors, and though she lost quite a few rounds, as one is wont to do in Blackjack, the rest of the table watched as her pile of chips steadily grew larger, despite her making choices that anyone else would deem illogical. After an hour, Holliday only found his own hypothetical gains to be slightly higher than what she had actually won.

After she threw out a large bet and hit on a soft eighteen, the older woman sitting next to her simply got up and left, unable to watch. It was the woman in green’s biggest win of the day. Holliday grinned. That was exactly what he would have done.

It was when she bet one of her few ten-thousand bone chips, and after a split won both hands that Holliday gestured to his other remaining bodyguard, a slightly seedy man called Bass.

“You see that woman down there?” he asked him. “Go down there and invite her to my private room, if you would.”

Holliday was grinning from ear to ear. He’d finally made up his mind. He didn’t know whether she’d live up to his expectations, being good at card counting didn’t necessarily translate to being any good in the poker room, but he was willing to count on Lady Luck once again. It’d been such a long time since he’d played a good game, after all. He really, really wanted to play cards with her.

~~ o ~~

He didn’t know quite when it occurred to him, but it was maybe after about an hour or so that Dominick began to wonder if Kei just maybe, potentially might be card-counting. After she won twenty-grand over a split, the possibility increased. Dominick admittedly didn’t know much about it, only that he was supposed to keep an eye out for any players making sudden big bets, especially when the deck was getting low. It could have been sheer blind luck, that happened sometimes, but it also seemed like she was winning more frequently when she bet high.

Internally, he sighed. Dominick was supposed to signal to the pit bosses if he thought someone was card-counting. He’d get in trouble if he didn’t. He didn’t know how he knew, but Holliday always knew. So he really had no choice. But he didn’t actually want to. He was having a lot of fun just watching her go. And he knew what would happen after she got caught.

“Ooo, that’s another win for me,” she grinned, sweeping up the chips he passed to her. “Honestly I’m as shocked as you are. Must be beginner’s luck, I guess.”

Now that the older lady had left, the two of them were alone at Dominick’s table.

“So,” she leaned towards him as he cleaned up the cards. “What do you think about this place?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You know, working here,” she smiled. “Must be a pretty cushy gig, huh?”

He should just give a non-answer and move on, but Dominick glanced around briefly. It seemed like no one was paying attention to them. “Well, it’s not quite all its cracked up to be.”

“Just like any job, I guess,” she shrugged.

That was not the sort of comment the Tombstone’s normal clientele often made. In fact, everything about her seemed really different, now that he thought about it. “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Depends on what it’s about.”

“Sorry if this is rude, but... you don’t seem like the type to have this much cash just laying around.” He shouldn’t be talking to her about this kind of thing, if she complained he was done for. But for some reason, he didn’t get the impression that she would talk.

For once, his intuition was correct, as her only reaction was to chuckle under her breath. “I’m not,” was all she said.

“Then how...”

But his words fell away as he glanced behind her. For a second, Kei looked confused, but once she turned he actually saw her shoulders visibly relax. “About time,” she muttered. But he had no idea why she’d reacted that way. Because strolling up behind her was the suited figure of Bass, and that could only mean one of a couple of things, none of which were good.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said quietly. “I’ve come to extend to you an invitation. Mr. Holliday would like to make your acquaintance in his private room.”

Dominick felt his stomach drop to his knees. That was the worst of the possibilities.

“I take it he doesn’t want to offer me a drink and a pat on the back,” she narrowed her eyes.

“Not quite.”

She paused for just a second. “Fine,” she agreed. “But I want him to come with me,” she added, gesturing over to Dominick.

What, why? For what purpose? Before now, he’d had no idea one’s stomach could make it all the way down to one’s toes. And yet somehow here he was.

Bass had to think about that one for a second, then he glanced upwards towards one of the large mirrors that lined the top of the high walls, the one that Dominick knew was only a mirror on this side. Finally, he nodded. “He accepts those terms.”

“Wait, I...” Dominick muttered weakly.

“Don’t worry,” Kei squeezed his arm, standing. “It’s all part of the plan.”

Smiling sweetly, she followed Bass out of the room, practically dragging Dominick behind her.

He had no idea what this “plan” of hers was, but if she intended to use it again Holliday, then there was only one way it could go, one that Dominick was all too familiar with. That was, of course, “not well.” Not well at all…

Part III

Holliday sure did like his mirrors. That was the first thought Kei had as she and Dominick followed Bass down a narrow hallway. The top half of the walls were covered in panels of them, inducing an off-putting sort of vibe as infinite corridors of reflections stared back at her.

She tried her best to ignore it. It was just a tactic to throw her off her game. Dominick, on the other hand, was not faring so well. He already looked about ready to crawl out of his own skin. No wonder he’d gotten stuck here.

Kei didn’t know why she had decided to take him with her. Mostly she figured it might distract Holliday as he tried to puzzle through it. She could probably also use him as leverage. He must have some sort of deal with Holliday. Kei figured she’d play it by ear.

They didn’t have to wait very long before the hallway terminated in several doors. Bass didn’t hesitate to knock on the one at the very end, only to unleash a smoky haze into the hallway. This meant that Kei didn’t get a good look at the room until she was beyond the threshold.

“No need to dawdle,” said a voice. “Please, please, come in, have a seat.”

After a second of ventilation, the smog cleared enough to make out a figure sitting behind the round table in the center of the dimly-lit room. He stood as he met Kei’s eye, before straightening his ribbon-esque tie and closing the distance between them.

“My name is Holliday. I am the owner of this fine establishment. May I say it is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Kei.” He stuck out his hand, his right one, Kei noted with a hint of bemusement.

“I guess I don’t need to introduce myself,” she took it after a small amount of hesitation, She had to admit it was a little unnerving. The only time she’d said her name was to Dominick, and he’d been with her this whole time.

Holliday smiled a little. “Please don’t think too much of it,” he shrugged her hesitation off. “I make it a policy to know the name of every one of my guests, especially one of such… connections as yourself.”

She smirked at the mention.

“Now please, have a seat,” he pulled out the only other chair for her, purposefully ignoring Dominick, who continued to stand a little awkwardly behind her, still wondering what he was doing here. “Can I get you a drink? Cigar?”

She briefly wondered how he’d react if she asked him about the potential availability of marijuana. “I don’t smoke, thank you,” she said instead. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to a martini, if that would be possible?”

“Certainly. A woman of fine tastes, I must say.” He sat back down, before snapping his fingers. What was with self-possessed men and snapping? “Rank,” he said, and the bigger man who’d been skulking in the background took a step towards them. “Kindly get her her drink, would you?”

Rank nodded, and silently left the room.

“Now,” Holliday leaned forward on the table, steepling his hands. “To business. I understand that you have graced my fine establishment with a purpose. Your ‘entrance’ made that clear enough.”

Kei leaned an elbow on the table to mirror him. She was good at lying. One of the best, she had to assume. But there was something about Holliday, the sharp look in his eyes, that told her he just might be able to catch her out. “I think we both know why I’m here,” she smiled sweetly.

“On the behalf of your employer, of course,” he sat back again, entirely at ease. “I believe he wants me to, oh, how would he put it, exactly? ‘Fuck off’? And you’re here to deliver that message, forcefully, if need be.”

Rank came back just then, setting a martini glass in front of Kei and a lowball in front of Holliday. Kei grabbed it by the stem, sipped and let him continue talking.

“But please don’t forget,” he continued. “You find yourself in my establishment, which means we play by my rules.”

“And those are?”

“You and I are going to sit here and play a little game. I will take you for everything he’s given you to play with, and then you’re going to go back to him and tell him that if he wants me gone, he’d better say it to my face.”

Kei was used to self-righteousness, to ludicrous declarations and dick-measuring, but Holliday remained entirely calm and collected. She operated primarily by taking advantage of emotion, but Kei didn’t know if he played that same game.

“And what happens if you lose?” she asked simply.

But he just laughed. “I’ve never once had to answer that question.” Kei might have been imagining things, but she thought she almost caught a hint of… boredom in his tone.

“Regardless, the game. Texas Hold Em’, I take it you play?”

“Of course,” she nodded, before practically hearing Dominick squirming in confusion behind her. “But this one clearly doesn’t, and I could use a refresher myself.”

Holliday grabbed a deck of cards that were on the table, the same set that they used down on the floor, broke the seal, and started shuffling them. Kei watched him closely as he spoke. “Standard poker hands apply,” he began. “The dealer lays down three cards face up in front of us as the flop, then deals each of us two more face down for our hands. Two more cards get put face up, in between which we place our bets, the turn and the river. Your goal is to make the best hand you can between the cards on the table and the ones in your hand.”

“Simple enough,” Kei nodded.

“Quite so,” Holliday emptied his glass. “Bass, would you kindly deal?”

“Course, boss,” the man took the cards Holliday offered him, and also gave them a good shuffle. Rank placed chips in front of each of them, all of one color.

“I hope you don’t mind all thousand-bone chips,” he asked. “Makes the betting a mite easier to keep track of.”

Kei waved her ascent, and noted with satisfaction that her chips matched her winnings for the day.

“Ladies first,” he gestured, and Kei lay down one of the red chips. Holliday laid down the big blind of two in response, and the game had begun.

As promised, Bass lay down three cards on the table. The four of clubs, the jack of diamonds, and the nine of clubs. Then he burned a card, and dealt them out two more. Kei’s heart leapt in her chest as she turned hers over. The ten of clubs and the two of clubs. One card away from a flush, with a pretty good shot of cinching it. All she needed was one more club.

Since she had the fewer chips out, it was down to her to make the opening bet. Kei was confident, but she wanted to see how Holliday played before making any big moves. Half the battle was the mind game, after all. So she put out two chips.

“Starting out small,” Holliday commented.

“I have a feeling this might be a long game.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he chuckled, swirling the ice around in his empty glass, and called her bet.

Bass laid down another card, the eight of diamonds. Damn, only one more shot at that flush.

Holliday examined his cards for a moment. “Alright, little miss,” he said. “Lets see if you can keep up.” He grabbed six chips and placed them into the pot.

Shit. What did that mean? That he had a really good hand? But that was an awfully big bet to make out of nowhere. Maybe he had jack shit and was trying to get her to fold. Should she give in? Kei didn’t have anything at all until that last club came out.

But she was not one to fold under pressure, especially not when someone was telling her to. Hopefully the river was graced with another club, hopefully Holliday was bluffing. Kei sighed, and placed seven chips in.

“A raise, even?” she couldn’t divine anything from his mild-mannered grin.

“I’m feeling confident.”

“Well, we’ll see if Lady Luck is on your side.” He once again called, and the final card came out. It wasn’t a club. It was the stupid ace of hearts. Her only hope now was the high card, or if she could get him to fold. Then the time had come to double-down. If she backed down now, he would know she had nothing. Kei gritted her teeth, forced on a smirk, and slid ten chips onto the table.

Holliday didn’t fold.

But when they finally lay their cards down, they both nearly burst into laughter. Holliday had won, but all he had were a pair of fours. He had bet so much on a pair of fours, and somehow won.

Even though Kei’s showing had been even worse, Holliday still seemed impressed. His eyes developed an almost manic glint to them as he leaned back in his chair and pulled out a book of matches. After striking one on the bottom of his shoe, he lit a very nice cigar from the box on the table next to him, and looked her squarely in the eye. “Well, it looks like we might have ourselves a real game here.”

She was glad he was enjoying himself, because Kei was starting to sweat. She had learned that Holliday was the sort of person who would bet twenty-thousand bones on a pair of fours. And she only had seventy-five of those. Well, fifty-five now she guessed.

Mentally, she slapped herself. She was panicking. That was exactly what he wanted. Every person had a pattern, and every person had a tell. She just had to find his.

They played a few more rounds. Kei managed one big win, but her luck seemed to be even more shit than usual. Holliday only seemed to be betting big every time she had a shitty hand.

“The blessed Lady doesn’t seem to be on your side today,” Holliday commented, rubbing his mustache thoughtfully.

“I wish you’d quit keeping her all to yourself.”

He chuckled. “What can I say? I see a beautiful woman, I’d like to keep her.”

Alright, he really took his southern gentleman shtick seriously. Kei giggled as she heard Dominick let slip a very exasperated noise behind her.

It wasn’t until a few more rounds in that Kei began to suspect something was amiss.

Kei was set up for another flush, with diamonds this time, and she was elated when Bass had flipped the turn to reveal the three of the exact suit she needed.

Holliday, on the other hand, wasn’t so pleased. “I have to fold,” he admitted.

“What, already afraid of my godly hand?”

“Just didn’t quite get what I was looking for.” He didn’t need to, but he still laid down his cards to illustrate. He had the eight of spades and the nine of clubs. With the queen of diamonds in the flop, he was two away from a straight. But with the three of diamonds that had just been laid down, that was no longer possible.

But it was strange. Up till this point, Holliday had played out every single hand. And it was especially strange that the one time he did fold was when Kei had a good hand for once.

A thought suddenly occurred to her: was he… cheating? A lot of the odd little behaviors would make sense if he could see her cards. But how would he do it? There were no mirrors in this room, and no cameras, at least any that she could see. Whatever it was, he had to imagine that she wouldn’t figure it out, considering how obvious he’d been that last round.

Too much time had passed. Whatever she did, Kei couldn’t tip him off to the fact that she suspected him, not until she was ready. Yet even as Bass dealt out the next round, she was still thinking.

There were a lot of odd little things about this whole casino, now that she was thinking about it. The bouncer at the front who was mysteriously in communication with someone, the surprisingly low amount of security on the floor. But one thing was really itching in her brain: how had Holliday known her name?

Kei glanced at her hand briefly. Four of hearts, king of diamonds, besides the high card it was a garbage hand.

But she had been so conscious of not saying her name. She’d only said it once at the Blackjack table. Was it one of the players? Most likely not. The man and the older woman had moved straight to other tables once they’d left hers, and the other person had gotten dragged off somewhere, rather forcefully.

No, there was really only one person who could have told him, and he was currently standing… right… behind her. Don’t turn around, don’t turn around. It had to be Dominick. But when, and how? Was his incompetence all just an act, was he signaling to Holliday right now? That didn’t make sense, though. It was Kei who had invited him up here, not Holliday. He couldn’t have known she’d insist on bringing him with her…

So a happy coincidence then? It would explain why he’d been so laissez faire about Dominick’s presence. So he was using him in some way then, but how? It didn’t have to be conventional, he was a daemon, after all. Maybe… maybe it was actually all pretty simple.

“Dominick, sweetheart,” Kei smiled sweetly. “Would you go stand over there? I need some eye candy to inspire confidence.”

She pointed to the middle of the table, halfway between her and Holliday, and though he looked concerned, he followed her instructions.

Holliday looked unflappable, if politely confused. Not that that really meant anything. There was only one way to prove herself correct. If he was surprised by her hand.

Ultimately, she’d gotten pretty lucky. As she’d noticed earlier, the deck that they used on the floor, like the one she’d swiped from the Blackjack table when she’d squeezed Dominick’s arm, was the same one they were using now. So in the split second that Holliday’s attention was focused on asking Rank for another drink, Kei reached in her pocket and swapped out a card. Yes, this dress had pockets, and it was awesome.

It didn’t matter which card; she wasn’t trying to win the hand, just make a point. Though she almost had to giggle when it turned out the card she’d picked was the queen of hearts. He was going to think she did it on purpose.

When they showed their hands at the end of the round, Holliday didn’t react necessarily, but he did glance at her cards for a little too long. He also seemed less pleased than he’d been after winning so handily in previous rounds.

“You look surprised,” she commented, fishing for further confirmation.

But Holliday was no slouch. “You seemed so confident for such a lousy hand.”

Smooth, but not smooth enough. He was thrown off a little, and Kei goaded him into giving her a reasonable stack of chips when she won the next round. She’d gotten him.

The mood didn’t last long though, and he was back on his game immediately. Once again, Kei found herself losing ground. And though it wasn’t with as much regularity, Holliday was beginning to repeat the same patterns again. There was no way he could still see her hand. No one in the entire room could see her hand right now. She even swapped out her hand again once or twice but he no longer seemed phased.

What was it? What was he doing? Kei was back down to forty chips again. It stood to reason that if he had one method to cheat he would have another. Or was she just fucking insane? Was he psyching her out?

Bass dealt out their cards, but Kei didn’t pick hers up for a second, thinking. Absently, she ran her fingers across their backs, hoping the slightly textured surface would ground her. But as she did so… she froze. Was there an… indent there? Yes, there was, she was sure of it. On the top right and bottom left corners. The shape was different, but they were also on the other card are well. Son of a bitch, the cards were marked. How had she not noticed before?

Glancing over to Holliday, she couldn’t see anything on his face, especially not at this distance. But when she had entered the room there were only two spots at the table, and Holliday already occupied one. Most likely, it was the lights. They were probably positioned specifically so that the reflection made the marks visible from his side of the table.

“I gotta say, I’m impressed,” she smiled, striking up a conversation while she dug her fingernail into one of the cards. “I came in here entirely confident, but frankly I think I under-prepared.”

“In what way?” he asked, amused.

She had the seven and four of clubs. The five of diamonds was in the flop. Two away from a straight. “I consider myself a pretty good poker player,” she explained, throwing a few chips down. “And I’m pretty lucky on top of that. Yet you’ve got me down to fou—well, thirty-five chips. But while I’ve been playing poker, you’ve been playing a different game entirely.”

Holliday matched her bet, and the turn came out, the eight of hearts. One away from her straight. “I’m not sure I follow,” he said, lying through his teeth.

“I’d say that at best, you’re decent at poker. Your poker face is top notch but your actions sometimes give away what hand you’ve got. But, even I have to admit… you’re an excellent conman.”

Rank immediately reached under his coat, and Bass bristled. Dominick looked like he was about to piss himself. But Holliday… Holliday smiled. “You know,” he said, laying a single, lone chip down. “I’ve had people gutted for saying less than that. But I’m in a good mood, so I’d like to hear your reasoning before I let my boys have you.”

“Well, the marks, for one,” Kei raised the bet. “There’s only two chairs at this table. The lights are positioned so that only you can see them. Pretty clever, but not impossible with a bit of set-up. What really impresses me is that you were even prepared for that one to fail.”

He was ginning, broadly. She was so used to grins like that filled with malice that it was unnerving when his wasn’t. He looked like a kid on his birthday. He gladly called her bet. “Care to elaborate?”

The final card came out, hesitantly, as Bass was more interested in their conversation then the game at this point. It was the six of spades. Kei had won.

“It’s him,” she pointed to Dominick. “Isn’t it?”

“I think you’re giving the boy too much credit,” Holliday chuckled as a bizarre series of emotions crossed Dominick’s face. “You must think he’s a terrific actor.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose,” she addressed Dominick instead. “It took me a while to figure it out, but I have a hunch. I think Holliday can see through your eyes. Hell, he can probably do the same with the entire staff.” Which was how he’d known her name. If Dominick had heard it, then he had too.

“You’re a daemon,” Kei turned back to Holliday. “Every staff member is under a deal, correct? Although in your case, I bet you make them sign a contract.”

Holliday slid an absurd amount of chips into the pot. “No one ever looks at the fine print on those,” he said softly.

Kei called his bet, and they lay their hands down. Holliday had a single pair of tens. Just as expected, the hand was hers. With a smirk, Kei claimed the pot, finally turning her fortunes around.

“You know,” Holliday said. “I’ve had folks who’ve noticed the marks before, but never the contract trick.”

“So I was right, then?”

“On both accounts. You weren’t sure?” he chuckled. “So my hat’s off to you, Miss Kei. You’re gonna make me pull out tricks I haven’t used in a long time.”

“Then I’ll just have to use some of my own.” Now that she knew what game they were playing, there was no way she could lose.

“Like that deck of cards in your pocket? The marks don’t always show up if they’re not at the right angle, but don’t think I didn’t notice. The queen of hearts had just been played the round before.”

“Well, trust me,” she leaned forward, “I’m just getting started.”

“So am I.”

Somehow, despite the fact that Kei had just called him a cheater, the mood in the room lightened considerably. In just a few rounds, their play devolved from tense competition to gleefully showing each other their best cheats.

At one point, Kei goaded Holliday into betting his seat so he couldn’t see the marks, and they spent the next few rounds playing musical chairs. He must have had a deck hidden somewhere as well, because eventually the cards became so muddled that one round featured two aces of clubs, and though she couldn’t be sure, Kei was pretty sure she saw a card pop out of his sleeve at some point.

There were cards taped under the table, Kei continued to alter the marks, but she suspected that Holliday was changing them again, as before long they both lost track of which ones were which. One round she realized that one of her cards had a false front, revealing an entirely different card underneath. Just how many of those were there?

The only problem with all of this was that neither of them could entirely end the game. Every time it looked like one of them might get close, they’d pull out some new trick and come right back.

Finally, after each of them were a couple of drinks in, Holliday shook his head, still thoroughly enjoying himself. “Well, I must say, little missy, that this is the most fun I’ve had with a game of cards in a long while.”

“Likewise,” she agreed. “But it’s time to end it, huh?”

“One last round, all in, played entirely straight.”

“As long as you’ll shake me on it.”

He nodded. “But let’s make it a little more… interesting. We both have something the other wants.”

“I want all the souls in your vault,” she said. “I know there must be one, with a ship this size, you’ve gotta be powering it somehow. And my boss wants you out of Discord, of course. But what is it you want?”

“Well, like I said before: I see a beautiful woman, I want to keep her.”

Ah. That made sense, ultimately. “This isn’t just about my soul, is it?”

“I would like your mind and body as well, of course.”

She thought about it for a second. This was how she could win. If she could just cinch this round, she’d have everything she wanted. Kei could saunter right back to Discord and rub her victory in that dumb bastard’s face. But there was an equal chance she could lose. Yet once she thought about it, if she did lose, it would essentially be trading one kingdom for another. She didn’t care about Bourbon Street like she did about Discord. It wasn’t home. But even a loss was something she could use.

“Alright,” she said. “Just one problem: the stakes aren’t even.”

He chuckled at that. “What on god’s green earth are you talking about?”

“I’m offering everything I have,” she explained. “But I know for a fact that if you worked at it, you could replenish your vault in a matter of weeks.”

“So you want me to put down still more?”

“That’s right. I want Dominick’s contract.”

Dominick let out a choked noise, and Holliday laughed out loud. “Him?” he asked. “Why? Does he mean something to you?”

“Not at all,” she shook her head. “He’s just the lucky son of a bitch that got me at his table.”

“My mother’s quite nice, actually.”

“You continue to surprise me, Miss Kei. You know what, I’ll agree to it.”

Even still, the stakes were highly in his favor, proportionally speaking. But there was nothing else she could do. This was her shot.

Holliday stuck out his hand—the right one, Kei made sure—and she took it. Both of them put all of their chips in the center of the table. Now all that was left to do was play out the round.

Bass laid down the flop, which contained the king of diamonds, the six of spades, and the three of hearts. There was little potential for a straight there, and even less for a flush. The dealer burned a card, and passed them their hands.

Kei tried not to laugh. Because while her hand was not good, it was pretty funny. Even if they’d agreed to not cheat, the deck was still utterly fucked. Kei’s hand consisted of two two of hearts’. Absolutely abysmal. Holliday was going to think she was such a liar.

It wasn’t a great starting hand, but it could have been worse. Bass glanced at the two of them. There’d be no point in folding, but he waited for courtesy’s sake.

“I’m in,” Holliday said, his expression unreadable.

“Same here,” Kei nodded.

The turn was flipped, the ten of diamonds. Not great for her, no reaction from Holliday. The tension in the air was palpable. The river came next. It was the seven of clubs. Unless his hand consisted of an eight and a nine, there was no way Holliday had a straight. This round would be determined by multiples. Kei had the lowest pair possible.

“What do you think?” she asked him. “How’s your Lady treating you?”

He paused for a second before speaking. “It’s hard to say. Still, whatever happens now, I’d just like to say it was a sincere pleasure to play with you.”

“I feel the same way.”

They revealed their hands, but all they could do was stare at the cards on the table for a moment. Kei thought she must be seeing things. They both had a pair of twos.

“Well, I’ll be,” Holliday muttered after a minute, then shaking his head, laughed silently to himself. “Unbelievable.”

“So… does this mean we have to play another round?”

“We could,” he shrugged. “But this seems an awful lot like providence to me. The Good Lady Luck is trying to tell us something, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you always listen to Her. So…” he reached under his coat, and much to Kei’s surprise, he pulled out a revolver, and placed it on the table. “Let’s let Her decide.”

Kei had to laugh. Partly because, as it turned out, he’d been armed this entire time, but also because after everything, after all the scheming and counter-scheming, he wanted to finish this with, of all things…

“Russian Roulette?” she just shook her head. She was already fucked, this might as well happen. “Sure, why not?”

He grinned. It was such an odd little hypocrisy of his. For someone so intent on stacking the deck in his favor, this man really loved leaving things to chance.

Holliday popped open the cylinder. “One in the chamber,” he reminded her. “Only one of us gets shot today.”

“Wait,” Dominick suddenly spoke up from the corner. “Kei, are you really going to do this?”

“Sure am. I’m a daemon, after all. Only thing I have to lose is this body.”

Which at this point was everything, but she didn’t say that part.

Holliday flicked the cylinder closed again, and spun it around. He gripped that gun delicately, but firmly. He was used to holding it. “Any other time I’d say ‘ladies first,’ but considering this game is about putting a gun to your own skull, well, I figured I should take the bullet on this one.”

“I hope you do.”

With very little hesitation, Holliday held the end of the revolver to his temple, the metal barrel flashing in the dim light, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Across the room, Kei saw Dominick flinch. Holliday passed her the gun, and she tried desperately to hide the near primal fear that accompanied the touch of the cold metal. But she did not want him to see her hesitate.

Click.

She passed the gun back. Even Holliday looked a little tense now. They wouldn’t die, of course, but there was a lot on the line here. And getting shot still hurt like hell.

“Four shots left,” he commented. “Twenty-five percent chance of getting the bullet.” Holliday grinned broadly. “Let’s see if we can’t raise those odds a little.”

Click.

“I thought you were a gentleman,” Kei retorted. “Aren’t you supposed to take a bullet for a lady?”

“We all must eat our pride sometimes,” he said sagely, and Kei took the gun. Three chambers left. And she still had two shots to take. Why had she agreed to this? Her luck was always terrible when it counted. Shit, look what had happened back in Discord.

Come on, she needed this. Just one time. She didn’t want to be stuck in this damn tourist trap. Not when the city waited just beyond the horizon. That city needed her, dammit, whether it wanted her or not.

Click.

“This one decides it, I guess,” Holliday muttered, and it was true. If that gun clicked one more time, then Kei was getting the bullet. “Well, here’s mud in your eye.”

Click.

There was silence in the room for a moment, as everyone processed what that meant. Dominick slumped, Kei’s heart sank. Even Holliday looked a little melancholic. He almost hesitated in passing her the gun, but Kei held out her hand. She wasn’t a very honorable person, all things considered. She’d started this game, though, and she’d see it through.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Holliday consoled her. “I’ll have a new body ready and waitin’ for ya. I’ll make it even prettier than this one.”

“Aw, shove it up your ass.”

It wasn’t about that, not really. She’d been so close. Again, she’d been so close. Kei had made it all the way here, crawling and scraping as she went, just as she always did, only to get tripped up at the very last minute by something entirely out of her control. Fuck. Fuck!

But there was no point in moping about it. She’d find her way out of this. She always did. For now, she just had to make her loss official.

Kei lifted the gun to her head, and smiling defiantly, she pulled the trigger.

Part IV

Click.

No one really processed what had just happened for a solid minute. Kei sat stock still, eyes squeezed shut, revolver pressed to her temple. She waited for the pain and dislocation, but it never came. Finally, she dared to open them.

She was still in the smoky room, staring at Holliday’s very confused face. As the adrenaline faded, Kei felt a little lightheaded, but she pulled herself together. Just what had happened? Why wasn’t there a bullet in her skull? Tempting fate, she glanced straight down the barrel of the gun. And when she figured out just what had happened, she couldn’t quite believe it.

“It... it jammed,” she choked out.

“It what?” Holliday lurched forward, his eyes widening.

Kei passed him the revolver. “See for yourself.”

He took it, looked down the barrel as well, and laughed, putting a hand to his face. “Alright,” he asked her finally. “How did you do it?”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t do anything at all?”

He stared at her for a second, his eyes narrowed as he stared into hers. “You’re actually telling the truth for once, ain’t ya?”

She nodded.

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“So...” she asked, almost feeling a little sheepish about the whole thing. “What happens now?”

“Now?” he sighed. “Now I’m afraid I must concede defeat. Clearly you’ve seduced the Blessed Lady to your side. I’m sure we could play any number of games and you’d probably win every one. Take the vault, take the donkey,” he gestured to Dominick. “It’s yours. And tell that rat bastard you work for that he doesn’t know what he’s got.”

His somewhat ironic laughter was infectious, and for just a moment, the two of them laughed about it all together.

Kei couldn’t believe her luck. Things like this never happened to her. She hadn’t bought his bullshit about Lady Luck. But now she had to wonder: what were the fucking odds?

Still, she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As far as she was concerned, the cosmos owed her one anyway. A hope that had died just a minute ago bloomed brightly in her chest. She had won. It was a bullshit win, but a win nevertheless. Kei was going home. For real this time.

“Well, Holliday,” she grinned. “I don’t get to say this often, but it was genuinely a pleasure.”

“The same to you,” he tipped his head. “Although, if you’ll grant me, I would like to add one small stipulation to your winnings.”

“I suppose I can’t really say no, given the circumstances.”

“All I asked is to play with you again sometime.”

She giggled. “I think I just might be able to make that happen.”

~~ o ~~

The underground level of the Tombstone—because of course there was one of those—was significantly more plain than the rest of the casino, mostly consisting of lots and lots of concrete. It didn’t really have to be much considering that nobody who wasn’t on the staff was really supposed to see it. Kei wasn’t sure she was actually going to get here, yet here she was, overseeing the unloading of the vault.

She had “graciously” allowed Holliday to keep just enough to get the hell out of dodge, but it was with satisfaction that she was now watching entire crates of souls being hauled out through the enormous vault doors. Ultimately, Kei decided it would be for the best to let Holliday continue to think that she had been working for Bacchae from the beginning. Although she had no idea what she was going to do with all these souls if the bastard rejected her peace offering.

“Uh...” came a timid voice from behind her. Oh. Dominick. She was a little ashamed to admit that she’d forgotten all about him. He flinched a little as she turned. “I uh... guess you own my soul now, huh?”

He didn’t ask, but she knew what he wanted to: what was she going to do with him?

Kei thought about it for a moment, then held up her hand. A tightly rolled piece of paper immediately appeared in it. It was her contract now, after all, she should be able to look at it at the very least. Sliding the red ribbon off—dramatic! Tacky!—she unrolled the paper and skimmed through it.

“Wow,” she said. “You really did not read through this thing at all, did you?”

“I-it was hard to with Mr. Holliday staring at me,” he mumbled. “You didn’t get to see it today, but he can be terrifying when he wants to be.”

“Oh, believe me,” Kei shook her head, sighing. “I can definitely see it.”

She was going to pretend that she didn’t consider keeping him. But ultimately, that wasn’t why she’d wanted it. Kei smiled at him devilishly, then ripped the contract in half.

It fell to the ground at his feet, and Dominick just stared at it for a moment, stunned.

“Have a good life, kid,” she waved, and turned to walk away. It was high time she got out of here before Holliday changed his mind.

“Wait,” he called to her. “W...why? Why do all of this for a guy you don’t even know?”

Kei shrugged. “Shits and giggles, mostly. Thought I might get Holliday thinking about it and distract him. Although I have to say, you were a damn good good-luck charm.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me tell you something I’ve been keeping to myself this whole time,” she winked. “My luck is always ass. Only difference today as far as I can tell was that you were there.”

“Oh...” he seemed to seriously consider the notion.

She laughed, and walked away for real this time. “Get home safe,” she shouted over her shoulder. “Wherever that is. And, uh, tell your mother that she better be as damn nice as you said.”

“I will!” he laughed, then too soft for Kei to hear, he glanced down at the nullified contract one last time and whispered: “Thanks...”

~~ o ~~

Jack had been sure that when Bacchae heard the news, he was going to be pissed. Yet after years and years of friendship, the man still managed to surprise him. As he heard the tale of Holliday’s expulsion from Discord’s airspace, he was giddy, of course. But when the messenger told him just who was responsible, and that she wanted to see him, Bacchae simply leaned back, grinned knowingly, and muttered: “Of course she does.”

Kei had been sure that he was going to turn her down. So when the little toadie emerged from the clock tower and told her to come on in—“And bring the souls”—she would admit that she was caught off-guard. But this was exactly what she wanted. So she unbuttoned the top of her shirt, mussed her hair a little, and took a deep breath. It was showtime.

“Well, well, well.” His voice was the first thing to greet her as she stepped into the gloomy interior. Bacchae was the only person she knew who could drop the line: “well, well, well,” like a fucking supervillain and still manage to sound somewhat intimidating. “Looks like the mangy bitch decided to come crawling back to my turf. Remind me, Jack: what do we normally do with mangy, flea-ridden bitches?”

“We string ‘em up, nice and slow-like.”

So Laughing Jack was here as well. Of course he was. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the gloom she could see him perched on the throne’s left side, his yellowed grin barely visible under the tangle of thick, dark hair. Looked like he’d given up on the ribbon today. And of course, there on the throne was the man himself: utterly relaxed, legs man-spread, eyes nearly glowing against the dark.

“You know I could just keep all these souls, right?” she raised an eyebrow. “Hell, I could even give them back.”

“Well, hold on there.” Bacchae’s expression did not move an inch. “You didn’t let me finish. I said usually. Just letting you know what would have happened had you come to beg and scrape before my excellence.”

“You sound a little disappointed.”

“I am,” Jack chimed in. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“Could you give your dog a bone, or something?” Kei narrowed her eyes. “He’s getting annoying.”

Jack didn’t do himself any favors by growling at her. But once he pulled out a switch blade Bacchae held up a hand, and he skulked back off into the shadows.

“Now that you mention it, I am a little disappointed,” he continued. “But if I’m honest, I didn’t really expect you to come back empty-handed. So,” Bacchae sat forward just an inch. “I hear you’re the one who dealt with Holliday.”

“Well, I just happened to be back in town and I saw how incompetently you were dealing with him, so I figured I’d better step in.”

“Right, of course, no ulterior motives there or anything like that. Maybe from some other, lesser bitches. But certainly not from ‘The Bitch’ herself.”

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” she struggled a little to be heard over both of their cackling.

After a second, Bacchae abruptly cut himself off. “Okay, that’s all fine and well, whatever. But if I may: how did you get him to fuck off?”

“Well, you see, I meticulously planned out a grand heist. I snuck aboard Bourbon Street, broke into the high-security vault—which is definitely a skill set I possess—and hauled the crates and crates of souls out all by myself. No, I beat him at cards.”

“You did?”

“Yes...?” She was honestly a little confused by how seriously Bacchae was taking all of this. “I mean, he was a crafty son-of-a-bitch, but like, nothing to write home about.” A slight exaggeration, but the look on his face was priceless.

Bacchae had been leaning forward, elbows on his knees, but now he sat back again, an agitated expression slowly creeping into his features. “Hold on: if Holliday beat me, and you beat Holliday, then that means... that means you’re better at cards than me. Uh uh, we’re not having that.”

“Wait,” Kei thought she’d just caught something there. “Is that why you never went over there? You were afraid of Holliday outplaying you? Again, apparently?”

It seemed to occur to Bacchae for the first time that he had been speaking out-loud. “That little bit of ‘hot gos’ doesn’t leave this room. Because if it does, I will send Jack after you, and I’ll let him do whatever he’s picturing in his sick little brain right now.”

Jack’s eyes lit up. “Promise?”

“That won’t be necessary,” she reassured him. “Assuming I get what I came here for.”

“Now that you mention it, that was my other question,” he drawled, immediately back in control. “Cuz I know the ‘how’, but I’m still a little confused about the ‘why.’ Cuz the way I see it, you coulda kept the souls all to yourself, yet here you are, offering them to me. So, to put it simply: what do you want, Kei?”

“And what if I told you I did it purely out of the goodness of my heart?”

Jack let slip a sharp, barking laugh, and Bacchae pointed at him. “That, most likely. So quit with the bullshit.”

“All I want is to be able to move freely around the city I call home without being hunted down like a wild fucking animal.”

“That’s it, huh? You’re telling me that you made this grand re-entrance, what with all the souls and the brand-spanking-new body, just to come back to Discord?”

“You noticed!” She floofed her short, red hair. “You like? I thought this one would be more... your type.”

“Oh it definitely is,” she hadn’t missed his eyes periodically drifting downward to the highest button of her shirt, which was not very high at all. “But you’re dodging the question.”

“Well, the one in a million hope was that I’d prove so competent that you’d just hand me the keys to the city right here. But, unfortunately that’s probably a little unrealistic.”

Jack snorted derisively. “Delusional, more like, if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Actually...” Bacchae cut in, after spending the last minute gazing off into the middle distance. “That’s not such a bad idea.”

“Wha...?” Jack sputtered.

“What?” Kei added unhelpfully.

“Now, this just might be a crazy fucking idea, but before either of you say anything, hear me out,” he held up both his hands as the two of them immediately opened their mouths. “I’ll accept this pile of souls and let you back into the city, Kei. On one condition,” and here he paused for dramatic effect. “From now on... you work for me.”

Shaking his head, Jack looked utterly flabbergasted. “I’m sorry, what mate?”

“Wait...” Kei couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “You’re saying that after everything I’ve done, after all the fucking trouble I’ve caused... You want me back in the Tea Party?”

Bacchae nodded. “That’s right.”

“You know that’s, like, an objectively terrible idea, right?”

Jack’s near permanent grin had dropped off his face. “For once, I agree with the whore.”

“Like, listen, I’m going to be entirely honest, which is a lot for me. If you let me back in, I am going to try to take the city again. You do know that, right?”

“Of course,” Bacchae nodded, entirely confident. Not only that, but he started grinning, and Kei watched it expand to almost comical levels as he leaned forward. “And I’m so excited to watch you try.”

She froze as she met that bizarre gaze of his. As always, it was somewhat inscrutable. Yet this time, she thought she might just know what it was: it was the expression of someone about to play a game that they knew they would win every time. It was almost a challenge.

He was confident, she had to give him that. And as she thought about it more, she had to admit that the idea might just had some merit. If there was one thing she knew about him, or at least assumed she did, it was that Bacchae wasn’t stupid, even if he wanted everyone to think otherwise. Kei was useful to him, she’d already proven that. Plus, if she was going to scheme against him anyway, he might as well keep her close, so he could keep an eye on her.

Or maybe she was overthinking this, and he really did just want a challenge. Or sex. Probably both, if she was honest.

Regardless, there was no reason for her to turn him down. He stuck out one of his patented left-handed handshakes; a devil’s deal if she ever saw it.

From his corner, Jack muttered exactly what Kei was thinking: “I can’t bloody believe you’re doing this.”

Yet here she was, placing her left hand in his. “Well then,” she said with a wry grin. “I’ll do my best to put on a good show.”