The Supernaturals of Las Vegas Books 1-4

by Carrie Harris

  They were waiting for the check when his phone rang. Darius.

  “Hey, man,” he said, answering the phone. “Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  “They’re gone,” said Darius.

  His deep bass voice had an almost alien-like hum to it. Derek had heard it only once before, when Darius was upset enough to have to fight to keep his beast within. Something was very wrong, and Derek’s wolf stirred within him in response.

  He took a deep breath, trying to retain control. Darius was a calm sort of man. If something had gotten to him, the news would be very bad indeed.

  “Who’s gone? Gone where?”

  “Hex and Jenny. I got tied up with a call on the way back. A city inspector showed up on the job site and tried to shut us down, so I had to go straight to work when I left the shop. When I finally got back to my place, I found the rest of the shifterkin asleep, and Hex and Jenny missing.”

  Derek frowned. “Damn it! They should know better than to go haring off on their own under these circumstances. I’ll see if I can’t find them at their usual haunts. Sorry about this, Darius.”

  “You don’t understand. I couldn’t wake up the shifterkin at first. I’ve got seven of them at my house, Derek. They didn’t all decide to take a nap at the same time in the middle of the day.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that something is fishy here. Isn’t it more than a little coincidental that everyone else decided to fall asleep, and then two of them are missing when I come to look for them?”

  Derek nodded thoughtfully, although of course Darius couldn’t see that. He was thinking quickly. He wouldn’t put it past Jenny and Hex to decide that they were going to sneak out and help whether Derek wanted them to or not. And if they had, the other shifterkin might have tried to stop them. But he couldn’t see them dosing their kinfolk with sedatives. Some things just weren’t done.

  The only other option was foul play, and although he didn’t want to consider it, he knew it was the most likely. From the sound of his voice, Darius had come to the same conclusion on his own.

  “Are you still at your place?” asked Derek.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do me a favor. Sniff around a bit.”

  “Okay…?” Darius drew out the word. “My nose isn’t as sensitive as yours, though. Am I looking for something special?”

  “When they fell asleep, what were they doing?”

  “They crashed out on my couch watching reality TV.”

  “Okay, see if you can find out where Hex or Jenny was sitting. Scent around there and tell me if you notice anything strange.”

  “Give me a minute.”

  Darius held the phone away from his ear, but Derek could still hear the low rumble of his voice in the background, talking to the shifterkin. Citrine shot him a questioning look from across the table.

  “We can’t find Jenny. Or Hex,” he told her, and her face darkened.

  She started to say something, but then Darius was back on the line. “Derek?” he said, and Derek held up a finger to quiet her.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “It smells like… I don’t know. Liza, what does this smell like? Baked goods or hand lotion or something.”

  More murmurs in the background as Liza and Darius talked to each other. Then Darius was back again.

  “Liza says it smells like almonds. Does that mean anything to you?”

  Derek had to choke back a growl. “It means that the bastard who pulled that stunt in the store this morning had something to do with their disappearance.”

  His eyes met Citrine’s. “He took them?”

  “It sure looks like it. Unless he scared them off and now they’re hiding.”

  Darius said, “I’ll tear apart the house. If they’re here, I’ll find them. But I assume if they were hiding, they would have found a way to contact one of us by now. Or if not now, then soon.”

  “I agree. We’re going to recruit some more help. See if we can’t track them down.”

  “Call me as soon as you know anything.”

  Derek promised to do so, and the two of them hung up without any false assurances. Citrine stood up, and he had to gesture her back down.

  “We have to pay first,” he said, flagging down the server and asking for the check. Once she was gone, he said, “We’ll see if the blood mage can help. I think we’ve got a good enough reason to wake her up early.”

  “I don’t think I’m breaking the wand after all,” she said. “I might need to go after them. If Ben has them, I can’t leave them in Faerie.”

  “I agree,” said Derek. “And if he can abduct them out of Darius’s home, none of us is safe.”

  “So we’re going on the offensive,” she said.

  Her expression was cold and remote, the face of a killer who would do what it took to ensure the safety of those she cared about. He knew he wore a matching expression. Together, they would find Ben, and together they would kill him. And if anyone, even the king, stood in their way, they would kill them too.

  “Looks like it,” he said.

  Chapter 13

  After Derek made a few calls, they piled into the SUV once again. Citrine felt restless and on edge. Up until now, she hadn’t had to worry about anyone but herself. She’d made it a policy not to build any attachments while she was under Ilimitaine’s thumb, up until the ill-fated moment when she’d decided to trust Benveniste. He’d spent months grooming her; she could see that now. Offering her little gifts, sneaking her medicine when she’d been injured. Feeding her carefully constructed lies about his hatred of the king.

  That kind of experience would have been a good excuse not to trust anyone, but everything was so different here from Faerie that Citrine had taken the chance. She didn’t think Derek would ever betray her like that now that she’d gotten to know him. Whatever happened—or didn’t happen—between them, he wouldn’t stoop so low. But still, she regretted getting close to him. Because this was all her fault. If she hadn’t stolen the wand, Hex and Jenny would still be safe. Derek wouldn’t be sick with worry.

  She’d brought ruin down on all of the people she’d met here in the human world, and it would get worse if Ilimitaine got involved. Now she had too much to lose. Too much that could be used against her. And she knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of any of those things.

  The whole situation left her feeling uneasy. She ought to be doing something other than sitting in this monster of a transport. That was all they were doing—sitting. The road was full of all kinds of vehicles, but none of them moved an inch. She didn’t understand why, but Derek didn’t seem to find it out of the ordinary. He didn’t like it and kept muttering darkly about the “traffic,” but it seemed to be a normal thing and not another attempt at sabotage by Ben. This wasn’t some illusion sent to try and delay them further. This traffic was real, and she hated it.

  Inch by inch, they drew closer to their intended destination, and to Citrine’s surprise, she realized that she recognized the place. Over there was the dancing fountain she’d spent all that time watching on her first night here. It looked different in the daytime, without all of the colored lights shining on it, but she would have recognized it anywhere. There was the bench she’d sat on to watch the people. The alley she’d emerged out of was somewhere behind that big building over there. She turned in her seat to look but couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact location.

  “Your mage is somewhere nearby?” she asked Derek, turning back around.

  He nodded briefly. “She lives at the Renaissance Casino. That one there, with all the gold leaf on it.”

  She followed his pointing finger to the building in question. It was a strange mix of classical opulence and bright flashing signs. Like most of the other casinos, the building itself was massive, bigger even than Ilimitaine’s castle, and that was saying a lot. Ilimitaine had always had a need to have the biggest and best things, as if that somehow proved his superiority. C
itrine thought it only proved the opposite. Only a small man would find it so necessary to inflate his worth with things. Of course, she’d been thinking those things in the dungeon, so maybe she’d been just a bit biased against him.

  Still, the location finally tore her thoughts away from the endless obsessing she’d been doing over Ben and Hex and Jenny and the whole sordid mess, and onto the qualifications of the mage they were going to see. This seemed like an odd place for a mage to be hiding. Citrine knew that while magic came naturally to the fae, it didn’t to humans. They needed years of intense study to develop and control their abilities. How could anyone study in a place like this, with all of its flashing lights and loud hubbub? This mage was either very dedicated indeed, or, like Ilimitaine, was too in love with demonstrations of power to be of any use. Derek seemed confident, so she would hope for the first. But her history weighed hard on her. She couldn’t help but worry.

  Best to face the question head on rather than stew on it and let her distract her from the task at hand.

  “This seems like an odd place for a mage to be hiding,” she remarked. “I’m no expert on these casinos, but they seem like 24 hour party places.”

  She looked out the window at a group of young women, their breasts spilling from the tops of their dresses, holding each other up as they staggered down the street. One of them dropped her shopping bag and looked down on it like she’d forgotten about that gravity thing and wasn’t quite sure how to react.

  “Welcome to Vegas,” said Derek dryly. He pulled the car into a dark tunnel marked Parking. “Her husband owns the place. I couldn’t live here myself, but given his nature and his hours, it’s probably the only way they can get time together.”

  “His…nature?”

  “Ah. I should probably have told you this before. I’m sorry. I was distracted.” He ran a hand over his hair in what she was beginning to recognize as a nervous tic. At least it gave her the chance to admire his biceps and the way the light lit up his hazel eyes. “Gregor is a vampire. Are you familiar with vampires?”

  Citrine froze. “Ilimitaine caught one once. I don’t know how or where. It had fangs, and it lived off the lifeblood of other creatures. That kind of vampire?”

  “Yes, but Gregor is the most civilized one I’ve ever met. He only drinks from willing donors, and his wife Anneliese is mortal. She’s the mage.” He pulled the car into a spot against the wall and turned to face her. “Is this going to be a problem?”

  She shook her head automatically. “No. No.” She repeated the word a second time with more emphasis. “I don’t judge all fae—or all humans—based on the actions of some. I suppose I can’t do the same with vampires. But you’re sure it’s safe here? The one I fought was…difficult to put down. Much stronger than it looked, and very very old. I was hurt badly.”

  It was an understatement. Although she resented Ben for his lies and deceit, she had to admit that she might have died if it weren’t for his ministrations after that fight. She’d been left, broken and unconscious on the bloody tile of the amphitheater that Ilimitaine used for his arena. When she’d awoken, one of Ilimitaine’s wolfdogs was lapping at the torn muscle of her leg. She’d been surprised that the near-feral beast hadn’t bitten her, so she began crawling, inch by excruciating inch, toward the door. Her leg wouldn’t work at all, not to kick at the wolfdog, nor to move her body along, and every movement hurt so much that she kept whiting out from the pain.

  Ben had found her there, and he took one look at the wolfdog before it turned tail and ran. Hazily, Citrine had wondered what illusion Ben had projected that frightened the creature so much, but she’d been unable to lift her head to see it for herself. Then, he’d ministered to her there on the grimy floor, stained with blood and offal and pain. He’d snuck some Elysium water from the storage room, or so he’d claimed, and the relief when he’d poured it on her wounds had been so intense that she’d cried.

  That was the day that he’d suggested she should steal the wand. She could remember it vividly, the intense look on his thin face as he bound her many wounds. The seemingly-heartfelt gasps he made when he saw the puncture wounds left by the vampire’s fangs. He’d rolled her onto her back to get a better angle on the mangled mess of her left shoulder when he’d suggested it.

  “You need to leave,” he’d said gently. “Or you’ll die.”

  “Sounds great,” she’d replied in a thready voice. “I’ll just order up a carriage and be on my way.”

  “I’m serious, Citrine.”

  “So am I. Where could I go in Faerie that would be out of the reach of the king? Nowhere. There’s no escape, Ben. Trust me. If there was, I’d have found it by now.”

  “But there is. Citrine, he trusts me. He’s given me the keys to all of his rooms, and I found where he keeps his artifacts. If I could sneak the Wand of Doors out to you…”

  “You found the wand?” Excitement had made her try and sit up, and she felt something in her side tear loose. The world went white again, and when she came to, he was still there, still working over her with a diligence that she felt she didn’t deserve. “You should let me die,” she’d said. “Use the wand yourself. Get away from him while you can, Ben. You know he’ll eventually turn on you, when he realizes you don’t share his passion for cruelty.”

  “No, Citrine. I’ll bring the wand to you. You should leave, and then when enough time has passed, come see me. If it’s gone poorly for me, maybe I’ll come with you after all. We can hide out together in the human world. We’ll be safe there.”

  She hadn’t had the energy to argue, but she’d managed a measly, “Are you sure?”

  He’d pressed his lips to hers, the smell of almonds enveloping her in a heady rush. Ben loved her. She knew it at that moment to be true, and she wanted nothing but him. Of course she would do as he asked, as soon as she was able. She murmured her agreement against his mouth and then lay back, surrendering to the ministrations of his gentle, long-fingered hands.

  The memory of it all overwhelmed her as she sat in the SUV, and it made her want to hit something. Ben, preferably. Another vampire, if she had to, although the thought of it made her nervous. The thing she’d fought was stringy and tough, so desiccated that it wouldn’t have passed as human or even the much-thinner fae. It had been old and strong and hungry, and she’d nearly been a meal for it. Of course, the fact that Ilimitaine hadn’t seen fit to give her a weapon had made for a substantial disadvantage. Now she had her knife, and she was in much better shape, and her friend was a werewolf. If it happened, this fight would be much different.

  Besides, it was daytime. They might get in and out of this casino without even seeing any vampires.

  Derek was looking at her, his face screwed up into an expression of concern. She patted his shoulder.

  “Sorry. Lost in memories,” she said.

  “You don’t have to come along if you want, but I didn’t think you’d want to give up the wand for an instant. Not even to me,” he said.

  She met his eyes directly. “I would give it to you, if you had need of it. I’m not going to let Ben kill my ability to trust. Even if he did…” But she didn’t know how to finish the sentence, because she couldn’t decide what was the biggest betrayal. The fact that every single one of his kindnesses had been a lie? The fact that he was going to use her life to better his position with the king? Or the fact that he’d used his magic on her to make her believe, even just for that moment, that he cared about her? She hadn’t really taken the time to think about it, because she was so used to other fae projecting this thing or that and laughing at her reactions. One week, she’d fought a series of increasingly hellish things that had turned out to be nothing but magic. But the pain they’d caused was real, as was the anger she’d felt at the laughter of the spectators when the gag had been revealed.

  Derek took her hand and squeezed it. “And he has Jenny and Hex. Do you think he…” But he couldn’t finish that sentence any more than she could finish hers a m
oment before.

  “No. They’re bait, and he can’t chance the possibility that we’d turn tail and run if we found out they were dead. Plus, he can’t let Ilimitaine know that he has them, because then all of his shenanigans with the Wand of Doors will come to light. The king would never forgive him for that. He’s got to keep them alive.”

  “So we’re not making a terrible mistake by not rushing out of here to kill him? Because I’ve got to be honest. That’s what I’d like to do.”

  “I think that’s what he expects,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s all he’s ever seen me do. Ilimitaine set an opponent against me, and I killed it. Over and over again. But he underestimates me, Derek. He underestimates both of us. I’m not some mindless killing machine that can be turned on and off at his whim, and neither are you. When we come for him, he’ll expect a frontal assault because he thinks we’re mindless thugs. But we won’t give it to him.”

  Derek’s lips drew back from his teeth in a feral smile. “Pack tactics. Present a target, and then, while the prey’s attention is elsewhere, attack from the flanks where he least expects it.”

  “Exactly. You think this mage of yours can help us do that? Or at least understand what kind of enchantment he put on the wand? I don’t want to break the thing only to find that I’ve made the whole situation worse somehow.”

  Citrine paused, trying to come up with some kind of example, but she couldn’t think of any way this situation could get worse. If Derek was dead, of course. But she wasn’t willing to give voice to that possibility. It felt like this whole conversation was full of things that neither of them wanted to say, but strangely they were still on the same page. It was the kind of partnership she’d always dreamed of but never thought she would have.

  “I’ve got to be honest. I’ve never met her. But based on what Gregor said, and the rumors I’ve heard, I think she’s got the juice for it if we can convince her to help us,” said Derek.