The Supernaturals of Las Vegas Books 1-4

by Carrie Harris

  “You confronted her? Are you nuts?”

  “Over the phone. She called to find out what I know.”

  “Damn,” muttered Annamarie. “I’m going to have to delete all her songs from my playlist now.”

  “Life’s tough,” said Lara.

  “Yeah, I guess. Okay, you get out of town, and I’ll see who I can send in,” said Annamarie, typing furiously.

  “No can do. She demanded to see me. If I don’t go, she’ll follow me. Besides, she has Ignazio. I’m not going to run and let her drain him dry in retaliation.”

  “You’re too valuable to waste, Lara.”

  “If I let him die because I’m too afraid to face her, I’ll lose my edge. You’ll lose me anyway.”

  “Then let me send backup,” persisted Annamarie.

  “I already have backup.”

  Another pause. “The tall guy from the hospital?”

  “Bingo. He’s an angel of death. Kills with a touch. Although he’s still developing control over it.”

  “Reeaally…” Annamarie drew out the word thoughtfully. “He’s not looking for a job, is he?”

  “If this works out, I was thinking of recruiting him as my partner.”

  “Okay…” From the sounds of it, Annamarie had a lot of questions, but she held off on them. Instead, she turned back to the topic of Tanith. “I’m still sending someone. And I’m activating your tracker. I can have Lazlo there in two and a half hours. If you haven’t checked in by then, I’m sending him to your coordinates.”

  Although Lara felt a bit annoyed at the lack of confidence in her abilities, she was surprised to find how relieved she felt too. If something went wrong, Lazlo would step in to help. He regenerated. They didn’t work together much, because the agency usually gave her no-kill jobs, while he made sure his targets never got up again. But she’d partnered with him a couple of times, and it felt good to know he’d be there just in case.

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “Send me all the info, and check in as soon as she’s neutralized.”

  “Sure thing. Traffic’s a bitch, so we won’t get to the theater for about an hour. Don’t panic.”

  “I’ll be watching your tracker and biting my nails. Let’s not delude ourselves,” said Annamarie, and then she hung up.

  Chapter 18

  Even though Vincent rode in Lara’s car, they made the drive in silence. Outside of the car, vacationers and visitors walked toward the Strip or stumbled away from it. Cabbies and Ubers jostled for space on the street with pickup trucks towing brightly lit advertisements for the latest magic show. Under different circumstances, Vincent would have made some kind of joke about real magic and how funny it would be to completely flummox those magicians with a demonstration of real powers, but given the circumstances, it seemed tactless so he kept his mouth shut. Her ability might be funny under the right circumstances, but his never would be.

  He only hoped he could deliver. Based on what Lara had said, Tanith would be powerful, boosted up by all of the life force she sucked off her victims. Their souls would keep her alive and healthy for eternity if someone didn’t do something. And they were the only ones who could.

  It was the kind of confrontation he’d trained for all of this time. He’d rarely had to fight when hunting down his targets. He just touched them and they died. So sometimes he’d wonder exactly what he was training for. He was no combat veteran; he just followed the Voice’s orders. But that ended today.

  Knowing his true identity changed things somehow. He wasn’t sure exactly how he’d come back, but he felt like maybe he’d asked for it. The man he’d been before was filled with remorse about killing those people, even if it sounded like he’d had no choice based on the facts he knew. But he’d felt so bad about it that he’d taken his own life. That hadn’t been the right thing to do, though. Some people couldn’t protect themselves, and they needed someone to stand up for them. For the first time, the term “angel of death” meant something to him. Before, it was a half-assed way to describe what he did, but now? Now he began to think that “angel” was exactly the right term. He was saving lives by ridding the world of evil things, just like Lara was. Maybe it was done for atonement, but that didn’t make the work any less worthy.

  The one thing that would have to change was the way it all worked. He couldn’t let the Voice order him around anymore. True, Ignazio Balma was planning to bomb the theater, but it wasn’t because he was a psychopath. He’d been trying to protect people from Tanith, the only way he could think of to do it. From here on out, the Voice had to tell him why a target was being chosen—if it could do that—or he would have to find the target and then follow them to be sure that there was no other choice but to kill them.

  It was a marvelous plan. He only hoped that the Voice would cooperate, but there was no way to know until he walked right up to Tanith and touched her. Somehow, he had to find a way to make it work, but he had no idea how.

  He needed to figure it out fast, though, because Lara was pulling into the parking garage and sticking her credit card into the reader. Within moments, she’d pulled into a spot and turned to him.

  “You ready?” she asked brightly.

  “What’s the plan?” he responded, hoping his voice didn’t shake.

  If it did, she was kind enough not to mention it.

  “She doesn’t know you’re here, and she doesn’t know what you can do. So how about I go in and distract her? You circle around from behind and sneak up on her. Your death touch works on non-humans, right?”

  Her mouth drew down into a worried frown as this prospective problem dawned on her. As much as he wanted to confess all of his nervousness, this wouldn’t help anything. They were already committed, weren’t they? And if things went poorly, the backup would save them. All they had to do was not die, which wasn’t exactly a given when it came to succubi. But he couldn’t imagine being tempted by any woman other than Lara, so at least there was that.

  He took a deep breath and gave her his best reassuring smile. “Yeah. I’ve targeted a few vampires before. And one other guy who I’m pretty sure was something else, but I don’t really know what. All I know is that limbs aren’t supposed to bend that way.” She grimaced, and he nodded. “Yeah. Exactly.”

  “Okay, so that’s what we’ll do,” she said.

  She leaned forward and kissed him gently. He wanted nothing more than to stay in the car with her and make out and pretend that succubi were myths, but his conscience wouldn’t let him. Damned conscience.

  He released her gently and got out of the car.

  Vincent had done many difficult things in his life—that he could remember—but watching Lara walk into the building without him was one of the hardest. But he couldn’t risk the guard letting Tanith know that he was there. He would just have to find another way in.

  He paced around the building without seeing any handy doors left open and unattended, which was a pity. But in the meantime, he’d come up with another idea. He crossed the street and went into a restaurant across the way and ordered a sub sandwich to go. After that, he crossed the street again and went to the opposite side of the building. The guard at the door looked at him with elaborate boredom as he approached.

  “No public entry,” he said, yawning.

  “Got a delivery for an Ignazio Balma,” said Vincent. He tried to duplicate his usual casual drawl. After all, this was nothing but a garden variety delivery. “He said to come in the side door.”

  “Ignazio’s back?” asked the guard, raising his brows. “Damn. I guess that means I lost the bet.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, man, but I’d appreciate it if you could let me in. The sandwich is getting cold, and I really need to take a piss.”

  “I should probably call ahead…” said the guard reluctantly.

  Vincent debated dancing around like his need to urinate was urgent, but decided against it. That might be taking things a bit too long. He just fixed the securit
y guard with a long suffering expression until the man waved him inside.

  “You don’t got any extra food in there, do you?” asked the guard, rubbing his belly. “I’m starving.”

  “Not this time, man, but I’ll bring you something next time I’m over here. Thanks a bunch,” said Vincent, hurrying into the hall. “Which way’s backstage?”

  “Not that way,” said the guard. “That’s the stage. You want to go back this way. Ask the next person you see where Ignazio is. They’ll direct you.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  Vincent hurried into the building, feeling like this whole thing had taken way too long. What if Lara was already in trouble? Time ticked away as he hurried out of sight of the guard and then tried to make his way backstage without being spotted. He did pass two people en route. One was so engrossed in a phone call that she didn’t even look up. The other took one look at his delivery bag and promptly decided he wasn’t worth her time or attention. He was used to that.

  Finally, he found the stage door. It bore a large sign on it that said, “Stage closed for Tanith’s private rehearsal. DO NOT ENTER!”

  Screw that. He pushed open the door as quietly as possible and walked in.

  On stage, Tanith paced back and forth. She was buck naked, her angular body lean and hungry like a prowling jungle cat. For some strange reason, she still wore a pair of giant red patent leather platform shoes that made her tower over everyone else.

  Ignazio sat on a chair, his hands zip tied to the armrests. He looked terrified, his eyes squeezed shut as if he couldn’t bear to look at what was going to happen next.

  And then there was Lara. She stood there with her arms folded, impatient and angry. She was in the middle of grilling Tanith.

  “How is it that no one realizes half of your groupies go missing? Do you hire only unobservant idiots on purpose?”

  For her part, Tanith seemed amused by the question.

  “People see only what they want to see. And it’s nowhere near half. I’m not that stupid,” she said. “You’re awfully curious about my feeding habits, kitten. How about I give you an up close and personal look at them?”

  “No thanks,” scoffed Lara.

  “Oh, but I insist. After all, I’m hungry. And I can’t exactly trust Ignazio any longer, can I?” Tanith pouted. “Such a pity. It’s difficult to find good assistants these days, and Ignazio lasted longer than most.”

  Tanith moved toward Ignazio, who began thrashing against his bonds in the desperate motions of a man who knows he’s doomed. Lara’s eyes flicked toward Vincent but didn’t stay long enough to draw attention to his presence at the far end of the theater. Instead, she took a step forward.

  “I’m really not into peep shows,” she began, but Tanith waved her off.

  “I don’t really care. But perhaps if you stay here like a good little girl, I won’t eat you too,” said Tanith. In one quick movement, she straddled Ignazio, who moaned in despair and arousal. “I haven’t had an audience in a long, long time. I might enjoy that.”

  Vincent shook himself from his frozen stupor. He needed to move. Quiet and slow. If Tanith saw him, she might not let him get close enough to touch her. So he crept closer as Tanith writhed on Ignazio’s lap, and his cries grew more frantic. Tanith began to rip his clothes from his body with superhuman strength. It couldn’t have been comfortable. Ignazio’s cries sounded pained now.

  Vincent wanted to rush over there to help, but he couldn’t. He focused instead on placing one foot and then the other, leading with the ball of the foot as he’d learned from the martial arts videos he used to train with. His steps were silent, his movement fluid. Tanith would not see him. She was distracted by Ignazio.

  “Stop it!” demanded Lara, taking a step forward. “You’re hurting him!”

  That caught Vincent’s attention. Over Tanith’s bare shoulder, he could see Ignazio, weeping red tears as Tanith ground atop him. His face was a rictus of pleasure and pain. His skin was pale and almost translucent, a marked difference from his standard dusky complexion. Vincent could barely believe the change in such a short time. He didn’t want to think much on it, because then he’d get scared. He just had to get there and touch her and make his power work. The Voice would obey him or else.

  “I’m serious! Stop!” shouted Lara, and then she moved in a familiar stretching motion.

  Vincent wanted to shout at her, but he couldn’t. But attracting Tanith’s hungry attention would be a terrible idea. Tanith hungry was bad, but Tanith in love? That could be instantly fatal. Her love would kill; he was sure of that.

  But Lara either didn’t realize that or didn’t care. She released her arrow, and it found its mark in Tanith’s heart.

  The succubus shuddered, her head whipping around to fix on Lara. The cupid took an involuntary step back as Tanith released Ignazio and stood. She made her undulating way over to Lara, who stood there, stunned and transfixed, either by Tanith’s power or by fear. Vincent didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.

  What mattered was that Tanith bent down and pressed her mouth against Lara’s. Lara shuddered and whimpered but didn’t move.

  This was no time for stealth. Vincent didn’t care if Tanith saw him coming or not. He had to save Lara. He sprinted across the room. The sound of his feet on the ground seemed deafening, but he didn’t stop, and Tanith was too engrossed in her meal to notice. He couldn’t see Lara’s face, but he could only hope he made it in time. Tanith seemed hungry enough to drain Lara’s life down in a single gulp. She didn’t even move as he approached. She was too engrossed in her meal.

  Vincent put his hand to the side of her face and concentrated with all of his might, calling mentally to the Voice. It was his voice; he realized now. More crisp and cultivated, like a man with education and money to spare. But it was him, and he was a killer. He was willing to accept that now, if only it would mean saving Lara. He would take responsibility for his actions, the good and the bad, the deaths and the lives.

  He could feel it now, the strand of energy that connected him to the realm of the dead. The place he’d come back from. And he saw the pulsing, hungry light of Tanith’s existence. It was a simple matter to connect them. Within moments, Tanith was sucked down into the black hole of nothingness, her light dimming. As she left her body, it crumpled to the ground, knocking Lara off balance.

  Her skin was pale, and the collar of her shirt ripped, but her blank eyes didn’t weep blood. That had to be a good thing, right?

  Vincent staggered over to her, and she looked at him without seeming to register who he was.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  She nodded, putting her hand into his. Only after he pulled her close did she begin to weep.

  Chapter 19

  At some point, Lara realized that she’d been sitting on the edge of the stage and staring off into space for lord only knew how long. She looked around, half expecting to see police officers and Vincent in cuffs while paparazzi snapped pictures of Tanith’s dead body, but no. Of course not. The stage was empty except for Vincent, who was bustling about, presumably taking care of everything. She knew she should help him. She would. But she’d allow herself to sit there just a minute longer first.

  If she was being honest, she felt surprisingly good. Not about the part where she’d almost been a meal for a hungry succubus. Just thinking about it made her shudder. A creeping, empty blackness had come over her, like her entire being was dissolving while her body went on without her, shuddering in erotic ecstasy. No thanks. Empty sex was bad enough, but Tanith had taken it to a whole new level.

  But Vincent had too, in the opposite direction. She’d never experienced anything like it. He just seemed to see her, in bed and out of it. To understand her. To listen to her noises and feel her movements and respond back instead of carrying on with what he thought she wanted. She’d been with skilled men before, but none of them had gotten to her like Vincent had.

 
She was beginning to think she was in love with him. Or was well on her way. She couldn’t throw stones about his past given her own career, and besides, he wasn’t that guy any more. That guy had a whole different life and memories. Even his name was different. Vincent might share fingerprints with the killer he was before, but he wasn’t the same man.

  Fingerprints…something about the topic nagged at her until she finally realized what bothered her. Vincent already had the attention of the local police. Being discovered with the dead body of a famous pop star wasn’t going to help that situation one bit.

  She launched to her feet, startling him.

  “We need to get rid of the body,” she declared.

  He looked at her, his face creased with worry.

  “You okay?” he asked. “I didn’t know how to help other than giving you some space.”

  “I won’t lie. It was horrible, but I’ll be fine,” she replied. “And thanks for coming to the rescue. But we need to get you out of here before anyone realizes she’s dead.”

  He waved a hand.

  “Don’t worry about that. I let Ignazio go. He’s not going to tell anybody anything. He was so happy to be alive that he’d lie for us if it came to that. And then I talked to Annamarie. She’s got a cleanup crew coming.”

  Lara blinked. “You…what?”

  “I saw she was listed as your emergency contact, so I called her.” Worry began to creep over his face. “I know it’s an invasion of privacy, and normally I wouldn’t have gone into your phone at all. But you were practically catatonic, and I was really worried. So I called. But then you snapped out of it and told me you just needed a moment. Do you remember? You still seemed pretty out of it.”

  He paused, and she shook her head. It felt like her brain had just shut down until a few moments earlier, but she didn’t feel too bad now. Hopefully there would be no lasting effects from Tanith’s feeding. She didn’t know how long it had gone on. It had felt like an eternity, but Vincent wouldn’t have wasted any time. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. Surely, she’d be okay after that, wouldn’t she?