Deck of Destiny 1 by Dante King

Deck of Destiny 1 by Dante King

Author:Dante King [King, Dante]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0C24VTM5B
Goodreads: 128532859
Published: 2023-04-10T06:00:00+00:00


Chapter 16

I came to hours later.

Spikes of pain radiated down my body. My calf must’ve taken a round, my ribs throbbed like a bitch, and my shoulder felt as if someone had jammed a red-hot poker against it twice. I opened my eyes, saw a flash of a chandelier overhead, and a familiar face swam into my vision. The woman was still wearing the same red dress she’d had when she was playing the piano earlier that day, and it took me a moment to recall her name.

Jenna.

She lifted her hands away from me, and white bracelets of runes faded from around her wrists. The woman gave me a smile that should’ve starred in its own movie and stepped back away from me with an encouraging nod. I eased myself up with my hands and prepared for the spikes of pain to increase. They faded instead, and I took in a deep breath. I didn’t know much about para-medicine or trauma surgery, but I knew better than to start moving fast after I’d been stitched up.

“Welcome back,” Jenna told me.

“Where are the others?” I rasped.

“Safe and sound, thanks to you,” she assured me. “Hell of a move, running out in the open like that. They’ve been treated, and they’re waiting down at the bar for you.” She gave me another once-over, and I realized that I wasn’t wearing a shirt. “You got lucky, you know.”

Jenna was a Shark, which meant that she didn’t work for free.

“What do I owe you?” I asked.

She gave a delighted laugh. “Oh, Daine picked up the bill on this one. But I’m glad you think like a professional. Your wounds are healed, but they’ll throb until you get to sleep tonight. After that, you should be right as rain.”

“Holy shit,” I muttered. “Must be a hell of a Card.”

“It’s got its uses,” she agreed. “Nice to meet you, anyway.”

She stepped away from the table and vanished through a glass door. A quick look around told me that I was sitting in some kind of storage room. Chairs were piled into neat stacks around the walls, a couple of tables leaned beside them, and a few shelves groaned under the weight of wooden crates off to my right. I glanced around for a shirt, didn’t find any, and slid off the table. I moved slowly, but Jenna hadn’t been lying to me.

I was healed. I’d taken multiple magical gunshot wounds, and I was walking again minutes later. My respect for Daine and his people ratcheted up a notch. Part of me wanted to be furious with the guy. He’d told us that he didn’t get along with the Leviathans, but he’d never made mention of the fact that he had a personal beef with Wilson.

My mind recalled the scant details from the ambush, and I remembered the rounds dissipating against an invisible field surrounding the gates.

We were safe. Properly safe.

For the next four weeks, at least.

Some ugly part of my mind reminded me that it was temporary.



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