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

of Gamon.”
    I stiffened. “Gamon is the reason why these children suffer.”
    “And you have pledged yourself already to their protection,” Jerome said, his words as stern as I’d ever heard them. “The children talk of swords and death and retribution. Yet when I see you, I don’t see swords and death. I see someone who finds the lost and shepherds them home. Why isn’t that Sara enough in this war? How did you come to decide that the Sara you were is not the woman you can be and still serve the needs of the many?”
    He pointed at the map. “There are many who would take up arms to fight this beast that wraps around our most vulnerable children. There are many swords to fill that army. Why must this blood be on you, when there is so much other work to be done?”
    I took a step back, my mouth working, but in truth, I couldn’t answer him. Not directly. “You don’t think I can fight Gamon?”
    Father Jerome’s smile was the saddest thing I had ever seen. “I think most assuredly you can fight Gamon. I think you could fight her, and, in divine righteousness, you could strike her down. But this is a fight that does not end with Gamon. This is a fight that ends with the root of all that is fear and evil in this world. And that is a fight no one can win with only a sharp blade and a stout heart.”
    His words rang with a truth and a finality I couldn’t disavow, but I still found myself shaking my head. “You don’t know that, Father.”
    He stepped close to me. “I do not know,” he said, taking my hands, the gesture so calm, so comforting that I inexplicably wanted to cry. “But I can hear, Sara. I can listen to what the children say about a warrior who is sworn unto death to save them. And I can hear them whispering about the pain and suffering this warrior will endure, the betrayals and loss. And I can think to myself—all these things, they do not have to fall to Sara Wilde. There are many roles in a war so big as this. There are many battles to fight.”
    He squeezed my hands. “Especially when you don’t even know how to handle a sword.”
    I let out a choked laugh, but Jerome was right. Not half a year ago, I was secure in my position. I would make a mercenary’s profit on a war fought by others, save the children in my path, and put the money toward the greater good. Rather than get caught up in the politics and perfidies of the opposing sides, I’d focus on the one thing I could do, and do well…finding and selling the artifacts to finance Jerome’s work.
    What had happened to that certainty?
    A child entered the room then, her eyes bright and her manner shy, asking us to come to dinner. Another hour passed as the day drifted into night, Jerome making us laugh with stories of the children and their abilities, their improvements, and their hope for a better tomorrow. You’ve done good work here, his every anecdote seemed to say. And there was more good work to be done.
    I couldn’t deny that truth, especially when it was clustered around me three rows deep.
    But there were other truths I couldn’t deny either. When Father Jerome urged me to stay another few days in Paris, the tug to escape the city, to return to my own world, was visceral. His gaze was soft as he folded his arms around me.
    “Think on it is all I ask, dear Sara. God has given you great gifts and the power to choose how to use them. It’s not a decision to be made quickly.” His smile was endlessly kind. “Even if you find yourself at the tip of a sword.”
    An hour after he left for one of the other houses, I let myself out the front door of the château…
    And found Max waiting on the steps, his chauffeur’s outfit looking freshly pressed.
    “Was I that obvious?”
    He shrugged. “Father Jerome said you wouldn’t stay. He said you never did stay in someone else’s house if you could avoid it. So he told me to get ready to take you somewhere else.” He tapped the bill of his hat and grinned. “I’m at your