"Nick, you have a problem." Kira looked at him with tears swelling out of her eyes. Erin was kicking and squirming in her arms. Nick knew how his daughter felt. He was squirming pretty good himself inside.

"What's the problem?" he said, "I drop a few bucks at the casino. I have a tough job and I need to relax at the end of the week." The heat of anger felt good. It washed away the guilt that crept in at the sight of Kira's tears.

"It isn't a few bucks, Nick." Kira's eyes flashed and dried up her tears. Nick had always loved the way her eyes showed exactly what she was feeling. Only now her eyes were pinning him down like the needles his dad used to display his bug collection. "I had to go the foodbank to get enough to get through the week, and I still had to feed Nick Jr. peanut butter sandwiches for supper twice."

"What's the big deal about that? Nicky loves peanut butter."

"Not for supper, and I had to go hungry because Erin doesn't like it when I eat peanut butter."

"Well, it isn't like you couldn't stand to lose a little weight..."

Erin went silent and still as if she could feel what her mother was feeling. Nick saw the lighting in Kira's eyes and he blessed his luck that she was holding Erin or he'd be seeing stars. The only time he'd ever seen Kira's eyes that colour, she'd just put her cousin in the hospital for 'teaching Nicky what his thing was good for'. It was time for a strategic retreat.

"Sorry, babe, that was stupid," he sighed in relief as the lighting vanished from her eyes. "You might be right. How about I rent a movie and we just stay at home tonight?"

He ran out of the house and headed down to the video store. Now that he was out of reach he replayed the conversation. He'd had a bit of bad luck lately, but that was no reason for Kira to over-react like that. He grabbed the first unfamiliar kid's movie and headed home. Ever since Erin had come along she was getting all controlling on him.

He walked in the door and waved the movie at Nicky. It must have been a good choice because his son cheered and jumped up and down with excitement.

"Supper first, movie after," Kira said and set out bowls.

"You know I don't like mac and cheese," Nick said.

"Sorry," Kira said, "The foodbank was all out of steak."

Nick opened his mouth to argue, but the lighting was dangerously close to the surface of Kira's eyes.

"Pass the ketchup here, Bud," he said instead.

It was fun watching Nicky watch the movie. The little guy could barely sit still. When it was done, Nick carried him to his bed and tucked him in. He wished that he was still that carefree. Between one thing and another his life was one big tangle of stress. Nick wished he knew where to begin to untangle it.

The rest of the weekend he stayed home and caught up on the chores that needed to be done. It was amazing how much needed to be done. The grass was almost too long for the mower to cut and the weeds had strangled all but the toughest flowers. He cleaned out the garage and marvelled at the pile of trash at the curb. Nicky got into the act and helped wash windows.

Monday morning, Kira gave him a proper kiss goodbye for a change. Food was a little tight through the week, but he tightened his belt. Kira wasn't the only one who could stand to lose a little. Friday was payday and he went straight home and handed Kira the entire check. They had steak for dinner that night and she made her pleasure known in other ways too. The weekend went by in a flash and Nick could feel a smug smile on his face for most of it.

Monday was back to the grind and it was a tough week. He was getting from all directions. The clients wanted things yesterday, his boss wanted everything done his way even though the clients wanted it different, and half his staff were off sick. By Friday Nick was desperate to go to the casino and just roll the dice. At least the dice didn't expect anything of him. They didn't care that the project was behind, or ask him to do yet another complete revision at no cost.

He arrived home and absently kissed Kira on the cheek. All through supper he tapped his toe and barely listened to Nicky talk about his day. Even the steak didn't taste as good. After supper Kira pulled him aside.

"Here," she said, and handed him a fifty. "We can afford to lose this. Go and do what you need to do."

Nick looked at her. For the first time he couldn't read Kira's eyes. He didn't know if it was a trap or if she was really going to let him go out. His hand made the decision for him and took the money.

"Take your driver's license and give me your wallet," she said. He tossed it to her as he went out the door.

The casino welcomed him like an old friend. He had a drink at his elbow and a stack of chips by his hand and could feel all the stress of the week vanish. It took him until eleven to lose the last of the money. Nick shrugged and left the dice on the table.

"Sorry," he said to Kira, "I lost the money."

"I told you, we could afford it."

She gave him a long kiss that made him stop talking and concentrate on getting his clothes off. Afterwards he lay with his arms around her and breathed in the scent of her hair.

"What would you have bought with the money you gave me?" he asked. Nick felt her stiffen.

"I told your we could afford it."

"I know," he gave her a squeeze, "and I thank you for it, but you must have something you could have spent the money on."

Kira gave a long sigh.

"Erin could use some shoes."

"What does a baby need with shoes?"

"She's going to be walking soon." Kira's hand drifted down and Nick discovered that the night wasn't quite over yet. "She'll need shoes soon, but not right away." Nick was too distracted to continue the conversation further.

He went a whole month before the stress of work got to him again. Once more he was distracted and jumpy through dinner, once more Kira gave him some money in exchange for his wallet.

The casino was hot and noisy. Nick sipped at his drink and felt the liquor burn down his throat. The lights were bright and harsh. Still the dice called to him and he soon gave himself over to their charm.

The dice were hot tonight; Nick felt he had Lady Luck at his side. As he started another roll he felt the familiar tingle of his cellphone vibrating.

He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost one in the morning. The cell phone buzzed again. Nick looked at the pile of chips. It was a lot larger than when he came in. He pushed the answer button on his phone.

"Are you coming home soon?" Kira's voice was strange in the midst of the noise of the casino.

"Baby needs a new pair of shoes," Nick said.

"So roll the dice already," someone yelled at him.

"No," Nick said, "I think, I'm done." He dropped the dice on the table and picked up his chips.

He heard the muttering and curses at the table behind him as he went to cash out.

"Put my favourite outfit on for me," he said into the phone.

"Which one is that?" Kira asked.

"The one that comes off the quickest." He was rewarded by Kira's laugh and the click of her hanging up. He didn't even count the money the cashier handed him and when he drove away he didn't look back.

Maybe they could go shopping for shoes for Erin.

Tomorrow.

The dice were hot tonight, Nick felt he had Lady Luck at his side, as he started another roll he felt the familiar tingle of his cellphone vibrating.

It killed the mood. More than that, actually- it killed the spirit. Nick’s jaw clenched instinctively. No. It’s him. His right hand hastily dropped the milky white plastic dice onto the floral patterned Dixie paper plate to an unsatisfying plunk. Eyes darting to the visibly ancient wooden table, he checked that the dice had avoided the remains of a pasta dinner before continuing his train of thought. I can’t answer this. I’m not gonna let Joey belittle me again. An old iPhone was lying comfortably right beside him on the beat-up sofa cushion, tempting him mockingly with its assertive movements. His left leg was practically aching just being so close to it. Unfortunately, he could not avoid Joey- the light from the screen shot a blue glow into the otherwise dimly lit living room.

With a heavy breath that released a mixture of hideous odors into the air, Nick solemnly clicked the Answer button and held the phone to his ear.

“Nick speaking.”

“Nick, it’s Joey. I need to know if you’re sober.” The voice was a touch frantic and nervous, a pitch higher than what Joey usually sounded like.

Shoulders slumping, Nick cringed. “Probably not. Tell me why you care again?”

Static was phasing in and out on the other end. “Remember that girl I was telling you about? Trying to get you to meet? Well, you have your first date in three hours and I need to make sure you make a good impression.”

“Joey. I didn’t show up the first three times you set this up. Why would I go now?” Nick’s finger was gradually slipping towards the End Call button.

“Because,” shot his friend, “you’re going to leave the house for something other than food.”

“Uh, count me out.”

“You have no say in this anymore.”

“Oh,” ears perked, shoulders straightened, and eyes sparkled. For a moment, the shady living room seemed brighter, as if the ailing lamp in the corner suddenly regained the inspiration to shine like the sun. “Joey, Joey, Joey. I haven’t had any say in anything for a year now.” The dice were back in his right hand, bouncing around in his palm like a pair of spastic teenagers at a school dance. “But do you know who does?” Nick held his phone over the table so that Joey could hear the clatter of dice rolling about in the plate. “Hmm, a five and a two. They’re on opposite sides of a die. That indicates conflict.”

A drawn out sigh crackled through the speaker. “No… not those idiotic dice again.”

“Idiotic?” He let loose a chuckle. “Not at all. I’ve been rolling them all day. …All month, actually. It’s great.”

“What?” Joey’s voice was beginning to have a noticeable mix of agitation and desperation. “Nick, those dice are ridiculous. I don’t even know why you still have them.”

Swiftly setting the phone on speaker, Nick mindlessly threw a few more rolls down. “Because they understand me. They’re watching out for me. And, most importantly, they predict things for me.”

“Oh my God, Nick, you sound like a lame boardwalk psychic.” Footsteps could be heard through the phone now. “It’s legitimately creeping me out. What’s wrong with you?”

There was a hint of a smirk on Nick’s face as he retorted. “I bet my psychic dice would totally impress that girl you have waiting for me.”

Scratchy noises echoed for a second, and then Joey’s voice abruptly returned. “No. No, no no, it won’t impress her, Nick. It’s going to terrify her. You are psychotic with these dice. How deep in that rut are you, that you don’t even make sense anymore?”

The belittled feeling was heating up in Nick’s ears. “W-what’s her name?”

“Sarah. She’s really, really nice. She has a lot in common with you- the real you.”

At the phrase the real you, Nick completely blanked out for a few seconds.

“Nick?”

In a waking frenzy, Nick threw up the quickest defense he could muster. “You just don’t trust me. I know these dice will make her swoon like I’m a wizard.” The dice showed its agreement with double sixes, causing Nick to cheer silently.

“And you just confirmed just how drunk you are. You aren’t confident in yourself at all, are you?”

Nick swung his head back and let out a strained moan. “Why are you so mean to me?! Why do you want me to meet this Sarah chick?”

Joey was suddenly yelling. “Because I love you! You’re like a brother to me. I’ve known you since grade school and we’ve always stuck up for each other, and cared for each other.” There was a quick sob and sniffle. “But I’ve spent the last year watching you drown yourself in your own sorrow because of that stupid breakup. It’s killing me inside, watching my friend decay, and that’s why I wanna do something about it!

“You’re going to have real human contact for once. I’m going to break you out of this year-long stupor so that you can move on from Shelley and get a life back. I’m gonna make you interact with actual human beings, and then I will do the courtesy of chucking those dice into a river!”

Nick’s eyes were wide as golf balls by the time Joey’s speech struck its caustic end. His mouth dropped open slightly, then shut tight. Blinking quickly, he looked directly at the phone and stared.

In a motion akin to a chameleon’s tongue to an unsuspecting insect, Nick flung his arm out and smashed the End Call button so hard that the phone slid across the table and collided with a pile of video game controllers.

For a seemingly infinite amount of time, Nick sat frozen on the couch, his gaze fixed on the two plastic cubes lounging in the center of the plate. Five and two. This indicates conflict. His phone vibrated again, though it was only a text this time. It was left unread. Nothing stirred after the phone’s screen went dark, leaving the pensive Nick to contemplate his next move.

“You know, I didn’t want to bring you guys up,” Nick licked his teeth lightly as he scooped the dice up and cupped his hands together like a baby’s cradle. “I don’t like to use you as the focal point of my argument. But I guess you beg to differ. I knew Joey would act like that about you guys. It’s hard for people to understand how you work.”

A sigh. “You know, Joey does make a valid point.” He waited a second for the inevitable protest. No stir; it seemed the dice were willing to listen. “I mean, you guys are really my only friends- well, the ones I still hang with. But… look at me. I’m a loner. A complete loser. I never leave this house- in fact, I barely leave this room. I’m more than a wreck. And, of course, the dealbreaker: I’m an alcoholic. And it’s you guys’ fault.” His hands were beginning to shake from the stress. “Why… why did you lead me down this path?” He tossed the dice carelessly back onto the plate.

“Hmm. A three and four. One right after another. You’re saying that… it’s a natural progression?” Nick shook his head. “But it’s not. Not for me. Shelley was an alcoholic, but I wasn’t.” For a second, he looked away; what he was about to say might hurt his friends. He tried to take a deep breath, but the musty air made him gag.

“That’s the only life you two knew. That’s why I took you away from her. You deserve to roll in a healthy home. Instead, you’ve just dragged me down to make me like your old owner.”

The dice shifted vehemently around. Each dot seemed for a second to deepen and exhale its annoyance.

Nick looked around the living room that had become his permanent dwelling. Old posters of rock stars were peeling off the plaster walls; an obsolete TV set stood front and center across from the couch on a cabinet. Aside from a few strewn papers on the filthy carpet, there was nothing else outstanding about the room. This is what I’ve lived in for a year.

“Tell me, dice. What do you consider us?” The dice rolled around in confusion. “Ok, to elaborate: what is our relationship?” He cast them out once more. This time, the momentum caused one die to bounce out of the plate and under a few miscellaneous sports magazines. The die left on the plate read one.

Nick”˜s muscles tightened; his still outstretched hand clenched into a fist. “I’m one with you? Look, dice, we’re friends. We’ve been friends, but I don’t think I’m comfortable with being one with a hunk of plastic. No offense, of course, but you are. I’m a hunk of skin, though! Just a meat sack with a face; mouth and nose and eyes…” the last feature saw an instant dilation. Suddenly compelled, Nick retrieved the stray die and immediately began counting dots. “Six eleven fifteen eighteen twenty twenty-one. Doubled is… forty-two. Forty-two eyes you have collectively.” The dice watched Nick’s expression shift gradually from neutral to stern. “And you promised that every one of them would be looking out for me. That’s what I mean. This is what I’ve been trying to say. You promised to help me because I helped you, and you’ve only hurt me.” A tear that had run down the bridge of his nose dropped into his palm, allowing the dice to see reflections of themselves. They did not like what they saw.

There was another long silence. Both parties sat in silence.

Finally, Nick spoke. “Look, guys, I trust that you care for me. What I mean is that you’ve made a mistake. So I want your approval on something important. I want to straighten up, get my life together. I’ll roll you guys one last time tonight, and if I see something significant, then I’ll know what you really want. Ok?” Both dice rolled together as if giving a high-five.

Sitting stiff, Nick readied his aim. His movements were confident and solid, like a professional craps player making a decisive cast.

The dice were thrown. When the clattering ceased, Nick looked down to see twelve hopeful eyes staring up at him.

Taylor looked up at the sound of a splash, hoping it was Quasar’s caudal fin slapping the water as it always did when he was near the surface. It was his way of letting her know he was in the area, and they joked about how it was his idea of waving at her.

Unfortunately, the slap came from a seagull making a completely-graceless landing too close to the dock and slapping the water with its wings.

"That was nice and graceless."

Taylor looked up at her colleague, Ryan Heke . "It’s a seagull, Ryan, what did you expect?"

Ryan’s dark eyes searched the water. "No Quasar?"

Taylor shook her head. Ryan was the only person to know about her friendship with Quasar, and surprisingly, he understood. His own friend was an albatross named Talofa, he'd thought he was the only person in the world who had an animal friend. He also thought he was completely insane or that others would think he was if he told them about his rapport with Talofa.

Taylor, however, wasn’t like that. She was very open-minded, and when they’d been talking about the incident with the speedboat, she mentioned that a shark had come to her rescue. Ryan had asked a few questions about the incident that he could only have known if he'd seen it, and when asked, he said an albatross had told him.

They’d laughed briefly, but soon fell into a long, awkward silence when they realized that the other might not be joking.

After a few minutes, she hesitantly asked if the bird he’d spoken to had seen a shark named Quasar, and that led to a long, interesting discussion about their respective friends and a sense of relief that they weren’t the "only one".

Ryan sat on a rock near Taylor and watched her go over her equipment and compare it against the checklist. "I'm sure he's fine, Tay. I saw the damage he did to that scuba tank when those schmucks were hauled in, and nothing in its right mind will bother him."

"People still fin sharks, Rye," Taylor set her regulator aside and began inspecting her mask. "Not often, but they still do it. There are gill nets, fishermen…"

"Taylor," Ryan took her mask from her and put a hand on her arm. “Don’t stress. Quasar’s smart. He knows how to be safe.”

Taylor looked out over the placid bay, wondering where Quasar had gone and if she’d ever see him again. "I really blew it, Rye. I was so intent on getting that suitcase that I put myself and Quasar in danger. He was just trying to protect me, and…" she shook her head faintly in dismay.

Ryan watched her for a few seconds in silence. A moment later, he looked up and shook his head as an albatross glided in and stumbled awkwardly as it hobbled to a stop near him. "That’s Talofa. I rescued him from a trap up at the Pali Lookout."

Taylor smiled as the bird limped over to Ryan and eagerly took the sardine Ryan offered it.

A moment later, Ryan and Taylor raced for cover as seagulls, drawn by the smell of sardines, began to swarm the beach.

"Holy Alfred Hitchcock movie!" Taylor dodged a ravenous seagull as it dove toward her looking for a sardine. "I told you not to bring sardines to the beach!"

Talofa, half-flying, half-running, rushed to hide behind Ryan.

Ryan grinned, his dark-tan face revealing even, white teeth. "It’s my lunch, Tay." He tossed a sardine to Talofa and dropped one into his own mouth before holding the tin out to Taylor who shook her head slightly.

"No, thanks. Quasar would love you. He’s all about sardines."

Talofa looked at Ryan and cocked his head the way only a bird could. Quasar?

"Taylor’s friend," Ryan tossed a sardine to Talofa who finished it in a single swallow. "He’s a hammerhead shark."

Talofa eyed Taylor warily. He’d seen sharks hunt his fellow albatrosses, and he didn’t want anyone who was friends with a shark anywhere near him. He folded his wings and perched near Ryan. Okay, that book you were reading. He tapped Ryan’s digibook with his pointed beak. Nick had just gone into the casino, and…

Ryan grinned. "Left it by Taylor’s gear. C’mon." He tossed the last of the sardines to Talofa and tossed the empty tin into a recycling bin. "We’re reading The Gambler… not the Kenny Rogers movie."

Taylor accompanied him to the rock, chasing off seagulls as she walked. "Quasar likes his music. He can’t sing to save his life, but we have fun singing--badly--along with it."

Ryan laughed at the idea of a tone-deaf shark and sat down on the rock near Taylor’s gear before activating his digipad. "Okay…" he tapped a button to turn to the correct page and scanned for his bookmark icon. He cleared his throat and began reading aloud. "The dice were hot tonight; Nick felt he had Lady Luck at his side. As he started another roll he felt the familiar tingle of his cellphone vibrating.'Luck,' Nick muttered, 'If you’ve ever been a lady to begin with...'" he looked at Taylor, on account of her nickname at the office being "Luck" for reasons she had never disclosed. "Luck, be a lady tonight."

Of all things Taylor has been accused of being, a familiar, cultured baritone joined dryly, A lady isn’t one of them.

"Quasar!"Taylor looked at the bay when she heard that voice, dropped her checklist, and ran to the water when a large caudal fin slapped the surface.

Talofa darted behind Ryan with a shriek of alarm. Shark!

"He won’t hurt you," Taylor waded into the water where Quasar was swimming in lazy circles. "Ryan, Talofa, this is my friend, Quasar. Quasar, this is my friend, Ryan Heke, and his friend, Talofa."

Quasar slapped the water with his caudal fin, sending Talofa into a panic.

Ryan looked at the dorsal fin that was cutting the water as the large shark moved under the surface. He’d never seen a shark up close, and wasn’t sure he wanted to now.

"Would you get me the tuna from my pack?" Taylor ran a hand over Quasar’s back as the shark passed her and pulled it back in alarm at the sight of the scar behind his gills near his right pectoral fin. "Quasar, what happened?"

Quasar swirled away as Ryan approached. A human with skin his color had baited a hook with a tasty bit of meat had hauled him into a boat and done horrible things to him.

"He won’t hurt you," Taylor motioned for Ryan to stay still.

He’s one of them, Quasar headed for deeper water.

"One of who?" Taylor opened the packet of tuna and eased out the large slab of fish. "Quasar, what happened?"

Humans did something to me, Quasar’s voice shook. They made me do what they wanted. He’ll make me do things too.

"Ryan won’t hurt you," Taylor let the tuna slab float to Quasar and watched him devour it. She told Ryan what Quasar described, and knew by the solemn look on Ryan’s face that he knew who was involved.

"I can help you, Quasar," Ryan didn’t know if Quasar could understand him, but he hoped the shark understood his tone. "The people who dropped the suitcase did this to you, but I know people who can help you. You’ll have to go to AquaPark, but there are people there who can--and will help you." He explained how local drug lords and crime bosses were using marine life as weapons, and how his colleagues at AquaPark’s Marine Life Rehabilitation Center had developed a way to free the abused animals from the malicious control of the drug lords using it to control them.

Taylor suddenly wondered about the suitcase stuffed with packets of white powder. "Was that suitcase meant as bait for me or Quasar?"

"Both, I think," Ryan answered. "Tay, someone in Oceanic Affairs knows about you and Quasar, and they’re in someone's pocket. A shark Quasar's size is a dangerous animal, and you have a way with sharks. I think they baited you because they know that sharks will come to your aid, and that'll give those goons access to sharks."

Taylor, Quasar swirled slowly. There’s something you should know about me. Something terrible.

"Quasar," Taylor opened a packet of tuna and gave it to Quasar who grabbed it and swallowed it. "After what I did, I’m no one to throw stones."

I, Quasar shoved a stingray clear of Taylor’s ankle. I killed a human. I’d like to blame the voice that told me to do it, but…

"It’s okay," Taylor’s tone was kind and understanding. "I know what they did to you. I’ve seen reports of sharks and seals being used to commit crimes. Quasar, it wasn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong."

Ryan lowered his communicator. "Just called AquaPark. They’re arranging a transport for Quasar, ETA five minutes."

"See?" Taylor smiled. "We’re going to help you."

Quasar was clearly upset. Even if I killed a human?

"Quasar," Taylor waded forward a few feet. "No one blames you for doing what you did; you couldn’t help it. That’s why we’re going to help you, and so will our friends at AquaPark."

Will I go back to the ocean? Sharks in tanks never go home.

"You will go back, Quasar," Taylor promised. "I will personally see to that." She looked up as a cargo transport bearing the distinctive logo of AquaPark Marine Life Rescue approached and Ryan guided it toward them. "Let’s get you some help, okay?"

Okay. Quasar eyed the container he’d be transported in warily, but swam into it willingly, surprised by the fact that water was rushing at him so he could breathe even though he was motionless. Taylor?

"Yeah," Taylor sat on the jump seat near the tank and watched it get secured to the deck of the transport.

Thanks.

"That’s what friends are for," Taylor smiled and put a hand on the plexiglass near Quasar's fin. "You’re in good hands."

With Allstate, Quasar replied immediately.

Taylor laughed softly, glad he still had a sense of humor. "You’re okay, Quasar." She put a hand on the side of the tank near Quasar's fin. "You're okay."

Nick stood naked in their hotel room, his bloody clothes crumpled at his feet. The air conditioner clicked on, its muffled roar shaking him out of his reverie. Across the room, a movement caught his eye.

He turned and looked the intruder straight in the eye. The intruder stared back. Nick sighed. It was his reflection in the mirror over the dresser. He shook his head and started to walk away.

Intruder.

He stopped, then turned and walked back to the mirror. The man on the other side was him, but not him. Pale, bruised, bloody. He leaned closer. Was this him? It didn't seem real. Maybe Nick was an intruder. Maybe he had switched places with the man in the mirror, and here they were, living each other's lives. He placed his hand on the glass, palm flat and fingers spread. For a moment, he imagined that if he pushed hard enough, he could break through the glass and back into his own world.

So he closed his eyes and pushed.

And then the moment passed, and he felt nothing but silly - he, a grown man wishing for a way through the looking-glass.

His eyelids fluttered open. Again he stared, but not at his reflection. Small red specks lined his cuticles and the creases in his knuckles.

"Blood," he muttered. "So much blood. So much…"

Gaze fixed on his hand as though he were hypnotized, Nick made his way to the bathroom.

He turned on the faucet and stuck his hands under the lukewarm stream of water. He reached for the soap. Instead, his hand found her brush.

Forgetting the running water, Nick ran his fingers across the purple plastic. Silken strands of auburn hair zigzagged through the bristles, binding them in intricate knots. He touched his nose to the brush and inhaled. Coconut shampoo, a whiff of hairspray, and her. An ache blossomed in his chest as his last image of her invaded his brain. The brush clattered on the floor. He turned the water as hot as it would go and scrubbed until his blood mingled with hers.

The sink wasn't enough. He stepped into the shower.

___

Nick sat on the edge of the bed, his body scoured clean. He was forgetting something-

The phone. He grabbed the bloody pants and turned the pockets inside-out. His phone was in a back pocket. He fumbled with the buttons. The phone lit up. No messages. He sobbed, but whether in relief or impatience he couldn't tell.

"They'll call. They said they'll call when-" He cut himself off, not wanting to hear himself say the rest of the sentence.

"I should go to the hospital," he told himself. He went to his suitcase and pulled out some clean clothes. He had put on some pants and was in the middle of buttoning his shirt when he froze.

He couldn't go. She was there, but he couldn't go. He couldn't see her like that. He could still hear her screams, and the silence after the screaming stopped. Her blood was still on his hands; he couldn't see it, but it was there. It was his fault. She deserved more than him by her side as she died.

He couldn't go, but he couldn't stay here. He picked a slip of paper off the floor. It had been in the pocket of his bloody pants. He turned it over. It was a ticket for the hotel's casino. No, not a ticket. Her ticket. She had won a minor jackpot this afternoon. It was only eighty dollars, but she had giggled and thrown her arms around his neck like she did when they had just started dating.

Nick finished getting dressed and went downstairs to the casino.

___

He sat at a slot machine, ticket in hand. "This is ridiculous. I shouldn't be here."

"Excuse me?" A cocktail waitress was standing next to him, tray in hand.

"Sorry, what?"

"Did you want something to drink?" she asked.

"No. No thank you. Could you tell me where I can cash out?"

"Sure thing, hun. There's a cashier at the far end and a kiosk over there by the restrooms," she said, pointing behind him.

He thanked her and stood to seek out the kiosk.

The kiosk was a simple machine - ticket in, money out. Nick had just grabbed the cash when he heard shouting coming from one of the craps tables. She had always wanted to try craps, but Nick wasn't a fan of dice games. Too risky, he would declare haughtily, only to have her roll her eyes and ponder the wisdom of putting money into the dollar slots. She had almost talked him into it today.

"Why not? Craps it is, sweetpea."

___

The dice were hot tonight; Nick felt he had Lady Luck at his side. As he started another roll he felt the familiar tingle of his cellphone vibrating. It was the hospital. A cheer went up as the dice came to rest, but he barely heard it. He took out his phone and stared at the screen. Just answer it. He hit "OK" and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" He listened to the doctor say the words he had been dreading and expecting, and Lady Luck slipped away.

She was dead.

The dice were hot tonight, Nick felt he had Lady Luck at his side, as he started another roll he felt the familiar tingle of his cellphone vibrating. This was it. The weeks, months, decades of work came down to this. The outcome would lie on the breath of a prayer. With one last glance at the shiny red cubes, he reached for his coat. Lady Luck would have to keep her own company tonight.

****

Silence draped herself uncomfortably upon the midnight air as though in awkward anticipation of the arrival of an unwelcome guest. Even the shadows scurried away before the slow deliberate footsteps of evil. The pale light from a high-up window of the headquarters filled Nick with an unease verging on foreboding that only increased as he hurried through the labyrinth of corridors to the meeting room. He slipped in quietly, the meeting was already underway.

"Nikolai," the Commander's sharp tone belied the fact that his entrance had not been as subtle as Nick had presumed. "You, Nikolai, have sacrificed much for your comrades and the Motherland."

The words felt like the first flurries of snowfall falling silently on his heart. He knew what was coming; that he had been chosen. A credit to his skill, strength, power, cunning and countless other transcendent qualities, which meant that it would be he who would walk into the eye of the storm; it would be on his shoulders that the hopes of the Order would be placed. Nick's world fell silent. The words continued to fall like frozen confetti all about him as he graciously acknowledged the plaudits, congratulations and well-wishes of his comrades in a carousel of whirling faces.

Out upon Nevsky Prospekt the chill of the late autumn Saint Petersburg night wrapped Nick's coat tighter around him. The warm allure of every barroom plucked at his hair and clothes and whispered his name.

Nikolai Kornilov's apartment was basic, yet somehow still afforded an unaffected sophistication. The bottle of vodka did not find itself with the philosophical 'half-full' dilemma for long.

The so-called 'Archangels' had been fighting evil in its many guises since time immemorial. There were some who were born into the fight, and others, like Nikolai, who's essence had been recognised by the brotherhood and initiated into the order. The struggle against the creatures of darkness had led Nikolai into a surreal world in which he had learned to see beyond the visible, beyond the corporeal form of man, and with a necromancer's skill, call forth those demons from the deep. And on the half-imagined plains of a misty realm outside both time and space, with archaic weapons, he would slay these creatures of neither heart nor soul.

It had not been the wrench that Nick had first expected. It was not so hard to give up a life of mortal ties awash with its mortal lies - in his early twenties his life was already broken, teetering on the brink of decay clouded in a miasma of cheap convenience store vodka.

This new life had brought Nikolai into a new world. Across the decades he had dined with princes, courted princesses and studied among the highest echelons of academic society. He had ridden with gangsters and looked dictators in the eye. He had infiltrated the secret police and infiltrated the infiltrators. He had found evil in the inner sanctuaries of monasteries and cathedrals, and in prisons some of the purest of spirits.

And now, of all the brothers in all he world, as the technological era flourished and gave up countless demons, it was he, Nikolai Kornilov, who was to look into the eye of evil itself, incarnated and reincarnated across time. This was their first chance to shift the balance of power since before even the memory of Sergei Vladimirovich, the elder, and of sorts, their leader.

The preparations had been painstaking and so secretive that Nick himself didn't even know the full extent of the operation. His brief though was precise. He was to wear the charmed life of a European prince in the high stakes capital of culture and privilege. Aboard yachts and in exclusive hotels and casinos he was to live the the Monte Carlo life. Once rolled, the dice of fate had foretold the coming of a knight among the Angels who would smite the face of evil upon the plains of Avaris. And it was here and now upon the Earthly field of greed, across the table of green baize where Nick was briefed that he would seduce this demon from its all-too-witting host.

So, this was it. Nikolai Kornilov was prepared to risk his immortality. The chandeliers twinkled in the bright casino light in time with the flowing of champagne and the high society chatter all about him. Across the table Zoltan Kovacs fingered the casino chips. At first it was just a feeling of menace; Nick could sense evil ebbing, flowing, glowing, but for the time being it kept itself at bay, like an angry engine idling at the lights.

The game played out, just as the game was playing out. Nick had grown into his character, wearing a tuxedo and sophisticated style like a second skin. The dice were hot tonight, Nick felt he had Lady Luck at his side, as he started another roll he felt the familiar tingle of the cellphone vibrating. He grabbed his coat. Boom! The room was hazing over. He cast one last glance back at the table as the second die tipped over to six.

Nick squinted and focused as billowing evil rose before him. Prince Zoltan Kovacs continued rolling the chips through his fingers, oblivious. It was not he but Mademoiselle Lefebvre, heiress to half of Europe from whom the ghastly aura plumed. She had eyes like strange sins, and he caught them as they tumbled out of time and space.

The open plain was familiar to Nikolai, yet always cast a heavy shadow across his heart. He felt the presence of his comrades just upon the limits of the void, and it was upon their strength that he would draw in this duel. Away from the mortal world this demon shook of the guise of Mademoiselle Lefebvre and extended vast wings of sinew, skin and scale.

Nikolai drew upon the vast reserves of ancient magic surging through his veins. His grasp closed tighter upon the hilt of his sword. The dice of fate had been rolled centuries ago, but the game was being played out here and now, upon these fields of Avaris. The colossal demon opposite him spoke. Not in archaic tongues, as was the etiquette to which Nikolai had become accustomed, but in a soft lilting Russian of his Motherland... of his mother. Nick paused. He kept his guard, but reflected upon where he had come from and what he had become. The Order had taught him the tricks of the servants of evil, they had taught him focus and they had taught him how to fight.

In a flash, Nick raised his sword. Upon that bloody field they clashed. With an effortless grace Nikolai whirled - an energy, pure and light. The creature was massive, black and filled with rage and wrath, but grounded in an Earthly reality.

The battle raged. The void that lay in place of the creature's soul spilled out over the plain. And what was shed by Nikolai on behalf of humanity was not only blood, but also hopes and tears. The fight was out of time and space, where the dawn and setting of a sun upon an imagined horizon could stretch out for a thousand years whilst passing in the blink of an eye.

****

The snow fell silently upon the midnight Saint Petersburg streets. Silence bloomed awkwardly within the depths of the headquarters. Voices were hushed in a tone belonging somewhere between an academic library and the crypt of a cathedral. The broken form of Nikolai Kornilov was surrounded by Archangels, drenched with blood and the scars of evil.

"You certainly gave us a fright," the pride and compassion welled in Sergei Vladimirovich's heart and into his voice.

"Lady Luck," Nick managed, with a smile, "Was certainly on my side tonight!"

Nick sung along to the music that was playing from his mustang's radio. He just loved Pink Floyd, and this song. Also, it helped that Nick was in such a great mood. I mean, who wouldn’t be? An all expense paid trip to Vegas! He would have never been able to afford it himself. He and his wife were already in debt... The reminded him... Next time he talked to his wife he needed to remind her to call about the mortgage... Oh, well. He was here to have fun (and work, of course). The song ended just as he pulled up in front of The Beach-nut casino. Could this trip get any luckier? Nick smiled to himself as he got out of his Mustang. He was thinking about the odd casino name as he slammed the door behind himself. He felt as if he was going to have a ton of luck, tonight. He slid his hand into his pocket as he walked up the Beach-nut’s steps. He felt the coin his grandmother had given him as a young boy, that he always kept in his pocket. “This is a very special coin, Nicky.” She had said “Don't ever lose it. If you do not lose it, it will work its magic when it is most needed...” Nick sighed. He still missed her. Christmas these last two years just hadn’t been the same without her. Although, he was happy she got to meet Christian before the cancer got her. Grandma always wanted him to get married to a nice girl like Christian. Nick snapped out of his thoughts as he passed the bouncer and entered the casino. It was like Christmas! All the bright lights and bell-like sounds! Nick felt like skipping-no, that wouldn't be appropriate for an adult of his age to do...He sighed, remembering that when he was a kid, his older sister, Marie, always told him skipping was only for girls... He never did skip from then on. Nick always took his sister's word like law. He chuckled at that memory. The first time in three years ( The last time was when he married Christian) He felt like skipping! Now, he knew what most people would think, that he liked gambling just a wee too much. But, they would be wrong. He had only gambled a few times a year. He just happened to love the thrill. Also, he happened to win every game of poker he ever played. Granted, usually he and his buddies only played for cookies or pretzels...But, still...It counted, right? With a bounce in his step, Nick, walked over to the Black Jack table, but saw that it was full. Mostly, he noticed, with rich, aristocrat, looking men with, beautiful, young, ladies at there sides. Nick sighed and turned towards the Craps table to see if it was empty. Lucky for him it had only a few players. He sat down with his chips and began to play....

The dice were hot tonight, Nick felt he had Lady Luck at his side, as he started another roll he felt the familiar tingle of his cellphone vibrating. He glanced down at the phone clip on his belt, it said “Christian”. He smiled, suddenly thinking about luck, and his coin. He threw the dice down half-haphazardly and grabbed the cellphone. As he flipped it open, he smiled. Yeah, he might be having fun, but, he still missed her. “Hey, Honey” Nick greeted Christian with. He could hear her smile when she said “Hi, just wanted to call you to make sure you got there all right before I went to bed. How is your hotel? Have you checked in yet? Are you having fun? Is it boring? Do you have all the money you need? Remember not to drink and dri-” Christian would have kept rambling if Nick, hadn’t cut her off ( she had a habit of doing that) “Christian! I’m fine!” He tried to sound annoyed but it really came across as amused, as usual. He never could get mad at her “No, I haven’t gotten my room yet. Yes, I’m having fun. No, it isn’t boring. And of course, I will not drink and drive.” He sighed, out of breath. The dealer said something to him and Nick smiled at him not really listening. “The mortgage people called... Doesn’t look good. They told me that if we didn’t have the payment in full by the end of the month they were going to evict us...” Christian told him in a worried tone. “Oh... Maybe I shouldn’t be gambling then...” Nick said. “No! Have your fun! Its not everyday that you get to go to Vegas for free! Just don't get carried away.” Christian said in a hurry, worried that she had spoiled his fun for the evening. The dealer said something else louder. Nick just nodded, hoping he’d get the hint. “Okay... I wont spend much.” Nick said. “OK.. Well I had better go. I have work in the morning” Christian said “I love you”. Nick smiled “I love you too... Goodnight” He hung up just as the dealer said something else. This time, Nick caught it. Did he really just say that? He couldn’t have! “Ex- excuse me?” Nick stuttered. The dealer sighed “I said, you won.” Nick had to pinch himself. He had to be dreaming! Nobody had that much luck... To be able to fix everything... “Ho-how much?” He stuttered again. “Around 5k” The dealer answered, clearly annoyed that Nick hadn’t been paying closer attention. Had Nick really been betting that much?Nick thought to himself. Wait! Did he just say 5K!!! In all 29 years of Nicks life he had never won that many pretzels! “Come this way, Sir, to collect your cash.” Nick followed him to the banker still amazed at his luck, he thought he might be in shock. Hey, luck, Nick slid his hand into his pocket and held his lucky coin fast... Thanks Grandma....