Free Aces Wilde: Immortal Vegas, Book 5 by Jenn Stark Page A

your heart, your sacral center. The magic of a Magician, some would say.”
    “So your magic returned back to you.”
    “I don’t think so.” Deep, fathomless speculation gleamed in his eyes. “Mortal sorcerers borrow magic from other entities—demons, the djinn, angels, there are a thousand sources they claim to channel. You pulled that burst of power from within yourself. Do you still think your role in the war on magic is one of bloodshed? To lead a syndicate known more for its executions and technoceutical drug deals than for the furthering of magic’s place in the world?”
    Back to this again. But at least this complaint I could handle. Especially without the Magician’s infernal touch on me.
    “This war you speak of is not the Council’s war alone, Armaeus. It’s a mortal war as well.” My words sounded too loud, and I tried to modulate them, but I couldn’t seem to control my voice. Or my hands and feet for that matter. I visibly trembled, and backed away from the Magician toward the house, only dimly aware that he paced toward me like a hungry leopard. “And as it turns out, I’m mortal. I’m also in a position to help. And I can help. I’m strong enough for that.”
    “There is no doubt that you are,” Armaeus murmured, his eerie dark eyes glittering. “How are you feeling, Miss Wilde?”
    “Fine.” I took another few steps back, entering the house again. Its cool confines should have been soothing, but they were suddenly too close, too thick. As if the air was too tight against my skin, my skin too tight against my bones—
    “Are you sure?” Armaeus’s expression was entirely too aware. “The use of magic—especially when it is not merely channeled power—can have a significant effect on a person. One that is difficult to ignore.”
    “I’m solid.” I turned, the front door of the house once more in my sight. I needed out of here, away from Armaeus, away from Paris. I needed time, space, breath. The heat that was pooling in my body, surging higher with each of Armaeus’s words, might be an unfortunate aftereffect of whatever I’d pulled out of my brain…but it was simply an aftereffect, and one I could manage.
    Really.
    Armaeus had somehow gotten around me, and I stopped short as I realized he now stood at the front door. But to my surprise, he wasn’t blocking me. Instead, he reached for the door and held it open, inviting me to pass.
    “You remain, as ever, an enigma, Miss Wilde,” he murmured as I finally moved past him. His words seemed to arrow straight into my core, and how I managed to keep walking was a bit of a trick, what with everything south of my navel threatening to dissolve into a puddle of need. “And I look forward to exploring your newfound abilities more deeply when next we meet.”
    I turned back to him. “Not going to happen,” I said, and there was still the weird thing with my voice—too loud, too full. “At this point, I’d rather set myself on fire than let you touch me.”
    The Magician’s smile, if anything, only deepened. “It would appear you’re going to do both.”

Chapter Seven
    I’d texted Nikki Dawes the moment I hit US airspace, so I wasn’t surprised she was waiting for me at the front doors of McCarran International Airport. Chauffeuring me around was one of the many ways Nikki earned her undisclosed monthly stipend from the Arcana Council, and she totally owned the position.
    What did surprise me, however, was that she wasn’t alone.
    A white-haired Asian woman stood next to Nikki, and though they were clearly together, they couldn’t have looked more different. Nikki had eschewed her normal chauffeur uniform for what could only be termed “bohemian chic.” Her six-foot-four frame was draped in a poet-sleeved snow-white crocheted tunic that ended just above her jean shorts, and miles above the calf-high multi-fabric cowboy boots that adorned her size-thirteen feet. Her long auburn hair was stick straight today, topped with a