Double Down on Demons (Pandora's Pride Book 1)

by Annabel Chase

  I leaned forward and peered at his mouth. “Are those diamond studs in your fangs?”

  He touched the tip of one of his fangs. “Do you like them? They’re Cartier.”

  “Is that a trend? I’ve never met a vampire with diamond encrusted fangs before.” Mostly because the vampires I’d met crawl around the forest on all fours and attack anything with a pulse, including rabbits and squirrels.

  “They’re easy to clean and look amazing in the dark.” He winked at me. “Perhaps you’d permit me to show you.”

  The doors opened and we stepped inside the vacant elevator. As the doors closed, I waited for him to push a button. “Forgetting something?” I motioned to the panel.

  He backed me into the corner in one swift movement. I was so taken off guard that I failed to avert my gaze when his dark eyes penetrated mine.

  “Tell me what you like,” he said, his voice silky and enticing.

  “Chocolate ice cream made with soy milk,” I said. “I have a dairy intolerance.”

  Oren tried again, fixing those pools of ink on me. “Tell me your deepest desire.”

  “To bathe in a vat full of chocolate ice cream made with soy milk.”

  He recoiled, taken aback by my response. “I don’t understand.”

  “What’s to understand? I like chocolate anything really. It’s my Achilles heel.”

  Oren wasn’t amused. “Why can’t I control you?” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you using a blocking spell?” He seemed eminently pissed off.

  “No.” As much I wanted to take credit for my cleverness, I had no clue why he couldn’t use his starey-eyes tactic on me. My father had made a point of telling me to avoid their direct gaze. If there’d been a spell I needed to use to make it happen, he would’ve taught it to me. He was skilled as a mage in many ways and had passed his talent on to me. Occasionally we’d break bread with another group that included a magic user and they’d inevitably marvel at my powers. My dad would chastise me later for showing off, but we both knew from experience that I was holding back.

  “Which floor, Oren?” I asked.

  He looked helplessly at the panel and chose the tenth floor. “This isn’t nearly as fun as I thought it would be.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.” Not really.

  “What are you?” he asked.

  On cue, my stomach rumbled. “Hungry.”

  The doors opened and I bolted from the confined space. Oren fell in step beside me. “No, I mean are you a witch?”

  I faced him. “I told you I’m not doing anything. Maybe you need to check that your mojo is working.” I wasn’t about to reveal my mage background. My father said to keep my abilities as hidden as possible because I never knew who would want to use me as a result. He’d endured a few bad professional relationships before I was born, although he didn’t expand on them except to cite them as learning opportunities. He’d been a big proponent of dusting yourself off after a fall and seeing what you could learn from it.

  Oren huffed. “My mojo is fine, thank you very much. Just last evening I convinced a rather attractive fae to dine with me. We ended the night in spectacular fashion.”

  “Convinced or compelled?”

  His mouth twitched. “Does it matter?”

  “Probably to the fae you’re…convincing.”

  Oren scowled. “You know nothing of vampires. Compulsion only related to the dinner invitation. Everything after that was of her own free will, I can assure you.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. Adamantly.” His strides shortened. “Perhaps it was a mistake to…”

  He didn’t get to finish brushing me off. In front of us, a large figure was in the process of lifting a slot machine over his head and hurling it across the room. Oren tugged a phone from his pocket and pressed a button.

  “Aren’t you going to wrangle him?” I asked, watching as the disgruntled customer aimed to rip another machine from its base.

  “I am not a cowboy, Miss Wendell. I do not wrangle. I’ve alerted security. Other than that, we wait.”

  The angry customer howled as he struggled to rock the next slot machine from its position. The white-haired player at the neighboring slot machine refused to budge. She continued to pull the handle and watched as the images slid to a stop, seemingly content to ride out the storm.

  “That woman’s going to get hurt,” I said.

  “We have a budget for such matters,” Oren said simply.

  I gaped at him. “Are you serious? You’d rather watch this old lady get hurt and throw money at the situation later?”

  “Security will be along momentarily.”

  “Not fast enough to prevent a broken hip or two.” I stomped forward, inasmuch as I could stomp in heels. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down.”

  The figure released his grip on the machine and turned to observe me. It was only then that I noticed the single eye in the middle of his forehead.

  “A cyclops?” I said a little too loudly.

  “Not a cyclops.” The one-eyed dude that wasn’t a cyclops seemed angry by the mistake. He turned to punch the machine and narrowly missed the woman’s head because she jerked it to the side in the nick of time. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn she had eyes in the back of it.

  “He’s one of the Abaasy,” Oren said calmly. “You can tell by his seven large iron teeth.”

  “Sorry, I was too focused on the rest of him to count his iron teeth.”

  The white-haired woman was apparently fed up with the interruption of her game because she began hitting the Abaasy with her snakeskin purse. When he moved to retaliate, I kicked off my heels and dove between them. No old ladies were getting hurt on my watch. If she managed to slip in here despite the flagrant age discrimination, then she deserved the ability to flush her money down the proverbial toilet in peace.

  The Abaasy wasn’t expecting my nosedive so I snuck in the first punch. That’s how I discovered that his teeth weren’t the only thing made of iron. I shook off my sore hand and glared at Oren.

  “You could’ve warned me,” I yelled.

  The vampire offered a nonchalant shrug.

  I jumped to the side as the Abaasy wrenched the machine free. Incredibly, the old woman continued to play. She clapped as three matching symbols lined up in a row.

  “Not everybody can be a winner,” I said. “That doesn’t mean you take it out on the machine.”

  The Abaasy grunted and lunged for me. I didn’t want to resort to magic—not yet. My father would roll over in his grave if he had one. A solid kick in the groin told me that there was one place on his body without iron. The Abaasy doubled over in pain.

  “There he is!” a voice said.

  In a nod to Ulysses, I decided to go for the eye. I produced a utility knife from my bra and flicked it open. Before I could take a stab at him, the Abaasy started to seize violently. He slumped to the ground in a huge iron heap. I looked down at him in confusion.

  “Crisis averted,” someone said.

  I glanced up to see a trio watching me. Wearing T-shirts and shorts, they looked like they’d just come straight from the beach. They weren’t vampires and they weren’t wearing the Salt logo, but one of them held a glowing stick that seemed responsible for the Abaasy’s current condition.

  “Do you mind?” the white-haired woman asked. “I can’t concentrate with all this fuss nearby.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  “An admirable performance,” Oren said. “But entirely unnecessary.”

  The guy holding the glow stick stepped forward. “We appreciate the help, but it’s best to stay out of the fray when you don’t know what you’re dealing with.” He looked me up and down. “Wouldn’t want to ruin that nice dress. Abaasy blood stains are notoriously hard to clean.”

  I was too distracted by the item around his waist to reply with a snappy comeback. “Are you wearing a fanny pack?”

  The guy beside him groaned. “I told you not to w
ear that, Liam. It’s too conspicuous.”

  “The glow stick in his hand is even more conspicuous,” their female companion said. “He should have a sheath for it.”

  Liam cradled his fanny pack with his free hand. “What? I’m bringing them back, bro. Single-handedly. That’s how awesome I am. You’ll see.”

  I cut a quick glance at Oren. “Your security team sucks hot monkey balls.”

  “As does one of our poker dealers, but I digress.”

  “How do we suck?” Liam asked. “Target has been subdued.” He pointed to the iron giant on the floor. “We were called here last minute.”

  “Besides we’re not the usual security team,” their female companion said. “We only get called in for special emergencies.”

  I looked at her. “Pretty sure air quotes are required when you say things like ‘special emergencies.’”

  The guy who was not Liam jabbed a finger in my direction. “Who is this?”

  “A guest,” Oren said.

  “Well, she should go back to guesting and stay out of our business,” Liam said. “Plenty of slot machines left to choose from.”

  “I’m not here to play slots. I’m here to play my chip.” As I reached for my chain to tug the red poker chip into view, the trio started shouting.

  “Whoa,” Liam said. “Never, never reach for a concealed item when you’re standing in front of three agents.”

  “Agents?” I echoed. “Agents of what? Destruction? Change? Judging from the glow stick, my money is on Chaos.”

  They exchanged amused looks. “You’re not from around here, are you?” the young woman asked. Her honey-colored hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and I noticed a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

  “I’m happy to say that I am from out of town. Far out of town.”

  “Tate, take care of the Abaasy before he wakes up,” Liam said.

  “You don’t have to order me around,” Tate said, bristling. “I know what my job is.” The young woman began an incantation and I watched with interest as flecks of orange light drifted toward the unconscious wannabe-cyclops and soaked him in color.

  “Are you planning to marinate him?” I asked. “If so, I’d go for a spicy remoulade.” The Abaasy’s body began to shimmer and crackle with energy. “Seriously, what are you doing to him?”

  “A freeze spell,” Tate said.

  “Why couldn’t you have done the spell first?” I asked. “Then you wouldn’t have had to shock him with the stick.”

  Tate gave her companions a pointed look. “See? She understands.”

  “She understands nothing,” Liam said. “It’s too dangerous when a target is in motion. We could’ve ended up freezing the old lady.” He looked at me. “Trust me. She wouldn’t last two minutes.”

  I craned my neck to see the old lady still at the slot machine. “Something tells me she could handle it.”

  Oren seemed to grow impatient with the agents. He wedged himself between us. “Thank you for your assistance. Liam, Tate, Leto. Perhaps you can remove the cargo now before guests trip on him.”

  Leto wagged a finger at him. “You remembered my name this time. We’re getting along famously now, aren’t we?”

  “Speaking of getting along,” Liam began, “how would you like to take a stroll on the boardwalk? Be a pity to let that nice dress go to waste.”

  Oren snarled. “It isn’t going to waste in the casino, but your board shorts have certainly outworn their welcome.” He said ‘board shorts’ with such disdain that I laughed.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Oren is going to help me figure out what to do with this chip.” I remembered his warning about reaching for concealed objects. “I’m just going to dip into my bra for a split second.”

  Liam cracked a smile. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  I flicked the chain and the red poker chip settled on top of my neckline. “According to Diamond McFangs over here, I can’t play this chip.”

  “Why are you wearing it as a statement necklace?” Liam asked. He stepped closer for a better view.

  “That’s not a statement necklace,” Tate said. “To qualify as a statement necklace, it has to be chunkier and more apparent.”

  Oren made a noise at the back of his throat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to continue my tour of the casino with Miss Wendell.”

  “Callie Wendell,” I said and extended my hand to Liam. Maybe these agents would know something about my chip.

  As Liam shook my hand, he couldn’t resist a smirk in Oren’s direction. “Welcome to Atlantica City, Callie Wendell.”

  Oren’s phone began to buzz loudly and his expression shifted from bitter and annoyed to fearful. He held the phone against his ear. “Yes, sir?” He paused. “As you wish.” He shifted his gaze to me. “I’m afraid your little dalliance with the help will have to wait. Mr. Halpain wishes to see you now.”

  “No fair,” Liam said. “I called dibs.”

  Tate elbowed him. “What is wrong with you, Mr. Neanderthal? You can’t call dibs on a woman. She’s not the front seat.”

  Liam gave her a look. “Clearly you’ve never been to a bar with a group of blokes.” He folded his arms and looked at the vampire. “Tell Ingemar the lady is spoken for.”

  Oren inclined his head. “Why don’t I let you tell him yourself?”

  Liam swallowed hard. “On second thought, enjoy your meeting.” He tapped Leto’s arm. “Come on, bro. Let’s go before something big and hairy shows up to spin the roulette wheel.”

  “I thought you preferred them big and hairy,” Tate said with a wicked grin.

  The trio set to work, with the two guys lifting either end of the Abaasy. Oren gestured me forward. “After you, Miss Wendell. And be sure to leave your chip on display. I’m sure my employer will be most interested in seeing it up close.”

  Although I felt vaguely uncomfortable about the way he said it, I wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to see the vampire in charge. “Let me just grab my shoes.” I slid my feet back into the horrible heels. If this Ingemar knew anything about my father’s murder, the discomfort would be worth it.

  Chapter Three

  Ingemar Halpain was exactly what I expected for the owner of a trendy casino. Suave, sophisticated, and with a touch too much mousse in his dark hair, he may as well have stepped out of the history books from the chapter on the 1930’s. To be fair, he was a powerful vampire. It was likely he already lived here in the 1930’s.

  He sat behind a mahogany desk with rosewood banding and brass handles. Framed photographs in black and white lined the walls. I recognized the Ferris wheel I’d glimpsed from a window in the casino and wondered how many years it had stood at the crest of the boardwalk.

  “May I present Miss Calandra Wendell?” Oren said.

  Ingemar rose to his feet with a welcoming smile. “Come in, my dear. You reek of sunshine and witches’ thimbles.”

  I knew from my father that witches’ thimbles were bluebells. “Are you sure you don’t mean gasoline and vomit?”

  He chuckled. “And a wonderful sense of humor as well. How refreshing.” He motioned to a plush velvet chair. “Sit, please.” His gaze flicked to his faithful servant. “Oren, you may leave us.”

  Although he was no longer in my line of sight, I sensed the other vampire’s dismay. One of us might reek of bluebells, but the other most certainly reeked of blue balls. “As you wish, sir,” he said.

  The door clicked closed and I tried not to tense. Ingemar radiated power. The vampire returned to his seat and gazed at me thoughtfully. “Let me guess. The Rocky Mountains.”

  I saw no reason to lie. “How did you know?”

  “I saw you on the security footage from the bus depot. Number 47 came from San Francisco with a stop in Colorado Springs. I’ve been to the area and recognized the scent. It’s quite remarkable.”

  “Well, aren’t you a clever clogs?” I desperately wanted to ask how recently he’d visited my area, but I had
to bide my time. If I dove in with too many questions, he’d throw my ass out of here faster than a vampire from a hospital blood bank.

  Ingemar touched the side of his nose. “Courtesy of vampire enhancements.”

  “I have one of those too.” I inhaled dramatically for emphasis. “It has its pros and cons. I could’ve done without the stench from the bus bathroom, for example.”

  Ingemar slotted his fingers and offered a smile so engaging that I barely noticed his fangs. That kind of charm made him more dangerous than any feral vampire in the mountains. “I’d like to personally thank you for running interference on the Abaasy.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d called in the glow guns or I would’ve stayed out of it.”

  “I doubt that very much. He was in danger of running roughshod over the elderly woman beside him. You made certain that he didn’t.”

  I laughed. “I think the slot machine was in more danger from her than she was from the Abaasy.”

  He splayed his hands and I noticed his fingernails were painted a shimmering gold. “May I offer you dinner as compensation for your trouble?”

  “It was no trouble. I didn’t even rip my dress.” I smoothed the fabric on my lap to prove my point.

  “Indeed. Your strength and maneuvers were quite impressive. I’d be interested to see what you would’ve done next had the security attaché not arrived.”

  “I was going to jam my knife into his eye.” I shrugged. “I figured his blindness would give me an advantage.”

  He snorted in an inelegant manner. “They’re not the brightest monsters, but they can do considerable physical damage if left unchecked.”

  “How did he get in?”

  “We try not to discriminate here at Salt. We leave them be unless and until they prove themselves unworthy of the experience.”

  “But you discriminate against the unattractive elderly.” I paused. “According to my friend from the bus.”

  He steepled his fingers on the desk. “No need to concern yourself with that, Miss Wendell, when you are clearly neither.”

  “Why don’t you use vampires as security?” I asked.

  “Because I can’t compel them, of course. It only makes sense to employ dangerous staff when you can control them with a look.”