Pride of Sevenfold
Chapter 1
“So sorry. Looks like today isn’t your lucky day.”
No apology presented itself in my tone, just a mocking pout on my dark red lips.
“That’s what happens when you play against the best in all of Superbia.” My insincerity bled into a not-so-subtle smirk while collecting my bounty of chips, feigning that I gave a shit about the man’s losses.
The quaint hole-in-the-wall casino I found myself in was tucked along a side street.
It sat just off the main strip of entertainment venues and establishments of this corrupt shithole of a city.
It was the type of place where locals didn’t want to be bothered, everybody questioned the food service, and absolutely nobody asked questions.
Superbia was a small city filled with large powers, offering all the sinful delights and naughty activities one could get lost in.
As long as you were a supernatural being, of course.
Only the cool kids on the paranormal block were allowed into the realm, hidden from the boring and plain vanilla humans.
No breed was precluded from the constant partying that goes on—it was a supernatural Vegas, sans Elvis.
I’d run into my fair share of vamps, magic-wielders, shifters, and more.
Oh, and of course, demons like me were also a large portion of the demographic.
Making up the minority were humans who’d been granted sponsorships.
You had to know someone who knew someone if you were a human looking to snag a job.
Lord forbid there was a biblical famine for vampires or some shit like that.
That wasn’t to say there weren’t humans here on less than legal terms, but what happened in Superbia stayed in Superbia. Including mortal lives feeding the more vulturous population.
Not all the demonic entities were like me, though.
The only foreseer I had ever come across here was myself, which made me the best. And also, the prettiest little vision you’d find on this side of the desert.
It may not have sounded like a super sexy power, but being able to predict the short-term future had saved my ass more times than I could count.
Enhanced physical or metaphysical strength meant nothing if I saw your moves coming a forethought away.
Given that it was my only damn talent, it made others question why the hell my ass was allowed to set foot in this realm at all. Must be because the entities in charge knew I was simply the epitome of perfection. I’d known it all my life; ‘Bout damn time others realized it, too.
“Ain’t nobody that fuckin’ lucky,” grumbled the overly hairy man sitting to my left.
It seems there was a sore loser in my midst.
Shrugging, I idly tinkered with a faded black chip between my fingers. “Care to try and break my streak, Fido?” I challenged.
The werewolf in his human form gave an animalistic growl in irritation at the insulting nickname. He immediately shoved the remaining stash of his money forward on the table.
Hope he isn’t betting his Scooby Snack fund.
Like clockwork, my mind’s eye felt a tingle as my power tapped into the immediate future. A vision of the grand reveal flashed across my sight—the cards flipping, four sevens lying there in my favor, trumping his flush of spades.
With my awareness back in the present, I drew the small red cocktail straw between my teeth and casually drank from the whiskey sour in my hand.
I matched his wager and didn’t bother suppressing the confidence in my smile. This asshole was about to lose everything, and the cards hadn’t even been dealt yet. He must have been a glutton for punishment.
My sapphire eyes lit up with arrogance as the dealer distributed the cards across the felt-lined table. It seemed Mr. Wolf and I were going to be in a poker standoff.
The player shifted in his seat as he checked his cards several times before he shot me a suspicious glare.
“Aren’t you even gonna look at your hand?” he huffed out as his temper grew shorter by the second.
I grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”
Was I toying with him? Absolutely. And I enjoyed every moment.
“Who the hell doesn’t look at their cards?!” he barked out.
When I didn’t answer, he raised his voice and rose from his seat as he jabbed a finger rudely in my direction.
“Look at the cards, you smug bitch!”
So. Fucking. Rude.
I clicked my tongue at him. “It’s not very nice to call a lady names. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners, or were you raised by wolves?” I snickered at the clever little pun.
Judging by the shade of red growing darker by the second on his face, he hadn’t found it very clever at all.
Dramatically, I sighed and revealed my hand, spreading the cards in an even fan on the table. Four sevens. Once again, I was never wrong.
His crimson cheeks turned purple with rage. He roared out in complete fury as he lunged towards me. I didn’t bother flinching at the attempted assault. Before he could lay a paw on me, security intervened and escorted him to the exit.
He was the sixth guy I had gotten thrown out of here this week, and it was only Tuesday. Life was good.
Sucking down the rest of my cocktail, I flipped a few chips to the dealer with a pleasant smile, like this was just another day. For me, it was.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, save me a seat.” I tossed a flirty wink at the baby-faced man who barely looked old enough in human years to drink.
With hope in his eyes, he smiled right back at me. His excitement visibly grew at the prospect that he would deal cards for me another day. “I look forward to it, Miss Bechette,” he meekly responded.
Cute.
“Hey, I get off in ten minutes. Do you think…” The implication hung in the air between us. He thought he stood a chance with me.
An intrusive vision flashed through my head, making me wince. I saw the same young man, leaving slobbery kisses all over my face and fumbling to get my bra unhooked.
Not cute.
I shuddered before I shut down the imagery like a guillotine severing the connection between one’s body and mind. For a brief moment, my power switched off to avoid seeing any more of that potential future. Maybe I would reconsider stopping here tomorrow after all.
Being a precog—a demon with powers of precognition—took a bit of finesse. Visions typically assumed that you would stay on the path you were considering. Changing my mind resulted in shifting of future paths, avoiding situations like spitswapping with some overzealous twat.
That was why I had issues getting involved with any man.
Anytime I thought about making a move, inevitably a premonition popped into my brain, and it was always an insta-kill to my libido.
The men were shown to be either terrible lovers or downright horrible people, which ultimately left me quite happy to maintain my V-card for a little longer.
Flashing him a pouty frown, feigning disappointment, I let him down as easily as I could. “Aww. That’s sweet,”—I glanced at his nametag—“Callum. But girls like me and guys like you aren’t even in the same deck.”
Without waiting to see his devastation, I turned on my heel and headed straight for the cashier window.
After cashing in my chips, I left there a few grand richer. At this rate, I would have enough money to bust my brother out of the supernatural prison before the end of the month.
The justice system here —if one could call it that—was…lacking. Tighe was the unfortunate victim of a classic bait-and-switch. He had ended up being the fall guy for hanging around a few demons with extra nasty reputations and even deeper wallets lined with nastier intentions.
Now Tighe’s only option was to pay an exorbitant fee to the Concord—a bunch of self-absorbed elitists who tried to instill a sense of order in a city where chaos reigned.
Alternatively, he could serve his time. Somehow, I didn’t think he fancied the idea of spending a half century locked in a paranormal Alcatraz that made the eighth circle of Hell look like an all-inclusive tropical vacation.
Our dad used to work as a supervisor in Malebolge—the eighth circle—so trust me. It’s the worst.
The sickly warm, dry air smacked me right in the face the moment I left the comfortably frigid air-conditioned building and stepped outside onto the sidewalk.
Daylight burned my retinas after spending an hour inside the dimly lit casino.
As if my senses hadn’t already been assaulted, the smell of vomit and piss lingered from the nearby alley.
Or it could have been a rotting corpse. I didn’t bother checking to confirm.
Before I decided on which direction to go, a sharp gust of wind pushed at my back, encouraging me to walk by the row of establishments and onto the main drag.
There were a handful of other moderately-sized casinos, shady smoke dens, tattoo parlors, restaurants that catered to any appetite, and even a toy store of the adult monster variety.
Foot traffic this time of day was relatively light, making my stroll down the sidewalk comfortably spaced out away from the peddlers and beggars looking for a handout.
The momentum of the wind at my back finally died down as I approached a colorful sign above the sleek yet boldly overstated entrance of Sevenfold Casino.
My fingers drew a couple of long strands of my pale strawberry-blonde hair away from my face as I took in the sight of the newest casino in town. It had only opened a month ago but was already making waves in our chatty community.
It was a massive building, making me wonder if the owner was compensating for something.
The architecture was all sharp angles, smooth reflective surfaces, and as black as most of the souls who inhabited Superbia.
As far as branding, there was a single seven above the doorway in pitted metal that looked like it was left over from blades of warriors long laid to rest. I was certain the brownish-red matter marring the surface wasn’t rust. Just below the numeral was the word “FOLD.”