Abbie Lyons [Lyons - Hades Academy: First Semester

Chapter One

Y ou can spot an idiot from a mile away. And this guy with thinning hair and a suit three sizes too big was definitely an idiot. He might as well have had the word sucker written on his crappy dollar store tie.

So how does this game work? he asked.

I was in a quiet little alley in Brooklyn sitting behind a cardboard box that I was using as a makeshift table. On top of the box were three playing cardsthat was all I needed to earn some quick cash. Over the course of a day, Id call over any easy marks I saw walking down the street, asking if they were the gambling type or feelin lucky. Once I had their attention, Id be guaranteed to make at least a few bucks off of them.

Its really simple, I said. As you can see, weve got three cards here: the queen of hearts, the jack of spades, and the jack of clubs. What Im gonna do is flip these cards face down and quickly rearrange them. After that, all you have to do is pick out which one is the queen of hearts.

He scratched his head. Thats it?

Of course that wasnt it. But that was all I was going to tell him.

Thats it, I said sweetly. Its fun.

How much do I have to bet?

Ten bucks minimum. If you choose correctly, youll get twenty bucks back. I looked back up at him and batted my eyelashes. Literally batted them. Something tells me youll be good at this, big guy.

That much wasnt a lie. Something always tells me when people are going to be good for me. Call it womens intuitionbarfor call it a knack for cold-reading honed through a childhood of foster homes and a teenagehood weaving my way through Brooklyn, but I knew people. And this guy was going to be a winner.

For me.

Here, I said. First ones on the house. I held up the queen, Vanna White-ed my hand over it, and dropped it back on the box. One, two, three quick whirls with the other cards, and I gestured for him to pick.

Uh...the left? he said.

Would you look at thathe was right. I held up the card with a smile. Nice work. I started to take a ten-dollar bill out of my pocketmy last goddamn ten-dollar billthen paused. Tell you what. Want to buy in for round two? Double or nothing. Just another ten.

Sounds reasonable, the guy said, in the fake tone of voice of someone pretending to consider. He fished around for his wallet, and I treated him to another eyelash bat. I wasnt going to pretend that being a nineteen-year-old girl with a decent collection of shoplifted Sephora didnt help my enterprise. Shameless, maybe. But I could afford shame later.

My latest mark produced a ten that I could tell without touching was going to feel sweaty, and I placed it beside the card set-up. That was the first part of the scam: keep the money out as long as possible. If people could still see the bills, they thought they still had a chance to get them back.

Suckers.

A breeze blew through the alleyway, pushing my hair back from my neck and washing us in the smell of Chinese food and dumpster. I really needed to find a better alley. I used to have a setup down by the Barclays Center, but then the cops got too aggressive, and no amount of eyelash-batting would get me off the hook.

So Id relocated.

Tonight was a chilly night for early September, and I was trying not to let the cold freak me out. When youre broke in New York City, cold can be killer. Literally. And all I had for insulation was my thrift-store leather jacket and my fiery personality (thanks, Foster Dad #3, for that clever neg).

No. I shook my head. Focus. Another ten, twenty bucks and Id be fine.

So, you...live around here?

Oh, great. Wed reached the question-and-answer portion of the evening. It wouldnt be the first time a mark had tried to transition my three-card monte setup into something even more illegal. But I wasnt a whore, and there were at least six guys in downtown Brooklyn with the pepper-spray burns across their eyes to prove it.

Still, I didnt get that vibe from Mr. Sucker here. And, like I said, I get vibes. A prickle at the back of the neck, a kind of third-eye feeling, what Foster Mom #2 wouldve called mal ojo right before she called me a devil child and kicked me out her front door while brandishing holy water at me.

Anyway. As woo-woo as it sounds, Im grateful for my vibe-getting. Its probably whats kept me alive for so long.

Nearby, I demurred. My boyfriend and I rent a place. Hes big into MMAyou know, mixed martial arts? So he wanted to be near the, uh...dojo.

Shit. Of course I didnt have a boyfriendphysical relationships were something for girls with stable incomes. But I had a fake one. Tough guy. Usually enough to end that line of conversation. And usually one of the many lies that rolled off my tongue with ease. I was off my game for some reason. I shook my head.

Focus, Nova.

Oh, Mr. Sucker said, clearly trying not to sound disappointed. I gave him another quick glance. Yeah, there was no way this guy would be a match for my imaginary MMA-fighter boyfriend. Or even my trusty can of pepper spray. Yeah, my girlfriends really into, uh, yoga and stuff.

Liar. Besides the fact that it was plainly obvious Mr. Sucker would never have a yoga-doing girlfriend, I could feel itjust the way I felt everything. The vibe. The only thing I was better at than spotting idiots was spotting liars.

Id never been wrong. It was the only thing I was actually good at.

All right, I said, moving the conversation back to the matter at handmaking me some fucking money. See this lovely lady? I held up the queen card. Just keep your eye on her. Easy peasy.

Who the hell said things like easy peasy ? Me, I guessed, when I was super out of practice.

Mr. Sucker glanced at the card, then glanced at me.

Whats your name?

Shit. His voice was timid, kind of high-pitched. And I didnt feel anythingnot the way I usually can when somethings up. But I knew better than to let down my guard. And I couldnt look frustrated, because thatd break the illusion of this magical fun game we were about to play and win him the untold riches I was obviously hiding under this cardboard box.

Yeah, right.

I blew a strand of hair out of my face. Nova.

Mr. Sucker looked taken aback. Really?

Yes, really. That was the name on my birth certificatenot that I knew where my birth certificate was, of course. The name that my mother had picked for me. The one thing she gave me that Id been able to keep. In my memory, shed told me it was because when I was born, it was like a new light had come into her world. Hokey as hell, I know. But that was my mom for you.

Is. Is my mom.

Because there was one thing that I was absolutely certain of, even with no birth certificate or permanent residence or money in my back pocket. My mom was still out there somewhere.