0.5 One Wilde Night by Jenn Stark Read Free Book Online Page B

That was plenty. And apparently, whether thanks to the Magician or Kermit the Frog, my pain receptors had shorted out, which I didn’t even know was a thing. Still, I wasn’t complaining. Give me a quart of coffee and a doughnut, and I’d be ready to go.
    Warmth fizzed along my nerve endings as I crossed to the table, picking up my discarded sheet along the way and wrapping it around me, more for the sensation of something on my skin than modesty. Plus, the A/C had dropped to subarctic, and my gooseflesh was starting to hatch goslings.
    I stopped at the edge of my impromptu card reading, staring down. The six cards still lay on the carpet, topped by the Magician, whose meaning I’d already figured out. The rest of them presaged a raft of crazy heading my way. The Page and Seven of Swords indicated that electronic communication and stealth would be the order of the day. The Chariot generally meant an overland journey, which made sense given that I didn’t think the amulet was lurking somewhere in my hotel.
    Unfortunately, after that, the cards took a turn. Lying side by side were the Five of Pents and the Tower. The Five of Pents could mean poverty, but its literal imagery depicted a church. So maybe a holy place of some sort? Either way, the Tower was generally no fun at all. It indicated that yet another surprise lay in store for me… or possibly a bomb. Toss-up.
    Settling in at my desk, I swiped the keyboard of my computer and the machine whirred to life. Before I could start thinking about whether or not my suite came equipped with a coffeemaker, a line of text appeared on the screen.
    I CANNOT RE-ENTER YOUR MIND WITHOUT PERMISSION.
    “Seriously?” The line winked out, and I glanced to the floor. The cards were still there, the Magician at the top of the makeshift spread.
    Was it my imagination, or did ol’ Trump One suddenly seem a little peeved?
    My computer beeped, and I refocused on the screen. The geo-tracker program had come up, and along with it, my cheerfully glowing tracking pixel. “I love you, little blue dot.” I murmured. It wasn’t moving either, which meant Frogger had been tucked in for the night. Even better.
    I expanded the map and leaned close. They hadn’t traveled that far, which made me happy, but they were definitely outside the city, which made me less happy. They appeared to have holed up to the south, a little inland, apparently right in the middle of a national park. Which meant I wouldn’t be able to sneak up on them.
    Then again, it also meant they wouldn’t be hard to find. I eyed my cards appreciatively, smiling at the five of pents and Chariot. “Holy place and overland drive, check and check,” I murmured. Tijuca Forest National Park boasted arguably one of the most recognizable tourist attractions in all the lower Americas, if not the world: the one-hundred-and-twenty-five-foot-tall gleaming-white statue of Christ the Redeemer, perched atop Corcovado Mountain.
    “Interesting location.” The Catholic Church wasn’t exactly unused to the idea of co-opting pagan places of worship to celebrate its own faith, so it was entirely possible that once upon a time, Fernanda’s deadly fertility ritual had played out in the open sky on that hunchbacked mountain overlooking the sea. Eventually, maybe some pious Portuguese had come along, appreciated the view as much as the next person, and settled in for the long haul.
    Either way, I had a feeling my little amulet wasn’t going to be found out in the open, at the feet of the enormous statue. Given the location, I also suspected that the current possessor of the amulet was Fernanda, and not the Russian woman or Nigel…because either one of them would’ve already fled the country.
    But the high priestess and her cult had a decided preference for sky-clad soirees. That wouldn’t fly in front of a Christian icon, not even during Carnival. So where would they be?
    I eyed the park at the bottom of Corcovado, Parque Lage. A few clicks