The Ian Dex Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 5 - 7 (Las Vegas Paranormal Police Department Box Sets Book 2)

by John P. Logsdon

  I hadn’t considered that. Gabe didn’t point it out as being an option either. Maybe he didn’t know? He seemed to know a lot more about me than others did, but that didn’t mean he knew everything.

  “That’s actually a good point,” I started, but then reality struck. “Wait, no, that’s not right.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, Rachel, I’m also using creative foul language when I’m really riled up.”

  She squinted and looked up to the left. “So?”

  “So that means the pixie components of me have also been unleashed.” I held up a hand before she could respond. “No, Rachel, a pixie did not bite me, too.”

  “Hmmm.”

  My lady leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms. Usually when she did this, it meant I’d done something wrong, was doing something wrong, or was about to do something wrong. She was known to cross her arms rather frequently around me.

  “Does anyone else know?” she finally asked.

  “Just Gabe.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “No,” I answered. “I mean…not a lot.” I moaned and began rubbing my temples. “Fuck, I don’t know. He has been the one feeding me these special skills that have helped us defeat these damn ubers as of late.”

  “True,” she said. “Still, though, you might consider telling the Directors what’s going on.”

  My eyes shot over at her so quickly that she seemed taken aback.

  “Not a chance,” I said, “and I’m telling you right now not to say anything to anybody about this until I have more information.”

  She put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. No need to bite my head off.”

  That brought back the image of what I’d done to that damn djinn. Yes, he’d had it coming, but it still didn’t sit well with me. The thought made me sick.

  “I’m sorry,” I rasped, putting my hand on her knee. “Look, I’m kind of mentally screwed up right now. My hormones are all out of whack, my emotions are completely shot, and I have the intense urge to kill anyone who even thinks about fucking with me. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

  Her response was in the way of a dull look, followed by, “If you’re having cramps, I’ll get you some Midol.”

  I cracked a smile at that.

  “Nice.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. Obviously, she was processing things as much as I was. If there was any one person I could count on, though, it was her. The jury was still out on Gabe. I was hopeful, but I’d been around the block too many times to put my cards on the table with him just yet.

  “What about the rest of the team?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I answered her sadly. “I want to trust them, and I probably will, but for now…no.”

  Just as I was about to go into my reasoning behind this, my connector went off.

  “Chief,” said Warren, the PPD wizard, “you there?”

  “Hey, Warren,” I said aloud and through the connector as I shrugged at Rachel while patching her in. “What’s up?”

  “You’re not going to believe this,” he replied, “but I’m down at New York-New York—”

  “Why wouldn’t I believe that?” I asked, making an I-think-Warren-has-been-drinking sign at Rachel. “I’m sure you go to many casinos during your free time.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, okay,” he said, sounding confused. “Anyway, I’m calling because there are a bunch of goblins down here wearing pinstriped suits, smoking cigars, and waving tommy guns around.”

  “Well, that’s not good.”

  “Nope. They haven’t done anything yet, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “Have you already contacted Lydia?” asked Rachel.

  “Oh, no…I uh…” He cleared his throat. “I’ll do that now.”

  “Thanks, Warren,” I said. “We’ll be right over.”

  I dropped the call and looked at Rachel. She seemed to be just as perplexed as I was. We hadn’t seen goblins up in Vegas much over our time together, and we’d never spied any of them dressing up as gangsters.

  “This should be fun,” she said with a look that countered her statement.

  “Yeah,” I replied, jumping off the couch and running back to my closet to snag a fresh jacket. “I’m sure it’ll be a goddamn riot.”

  CHAPTER 6

  I t was a quick ride over to the New York-New York casino from The Martin. Parking was easy with the PPD. Throw out a null zone and pull up to the curb. All the normals moved over like there was construction or a broken-down car sitting there. Any supers who were driving moaned and groaned, but eventually got over it.

  “I’m feeling irritable,” I admitted as we walked through the front entrance and cut right toward the casino. “I may have to take a backseat on this one, Rachel.”

  “I can run things, if you need me to,” she replied, keeping her pace brisk. “It’s not like I’m a rookie here.”

  I sniffed the air and caught scent of Warren.

  That was weird.

  I’d been given the Sniff command from Gabe when I had gone to London, and I remembered how intense the sensation was. This was not quite as strong, but it was damn sure more sensitive than my normal sense of smell. Great, that meant my werewolf side was surfacing.

  “We just need to find—” she started, but I grabbed her arm and headed toward the casino. “This way, then?”

  I peered at her from the corner of my eye.

  “You know, Ian,” she said, grinning, “I have to say that I’m a fan of this brooding you’re carrying about with you. It’s so much sexier than the nice-guy thing you usually do.”

  My brooding turned to distaste.

  “Ew.”

  “Don’t ‘ew’ me,” she huffed, pulling her arm from my grip. “You’re the one who likes whips and chains, remember?”

  “Uh…”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t mind a little play in that direction from time to time, too, you know?” She seemed serious. “Dr. Vernon thinks it’d be good for us.”

  I wanted to say “ew” again, but instead went with “Sorry.”

  We circled the center bar and walked straight up to Warren. He was seated on the opposite side of the entrance, and he was drinking what appeared to be a strawberry daiquiri. I looked at it dubiously and then blinked at him.

  “Want some?” he asked, holding it out.

  I did, especially because the pureed strawberries smelled delicious, but I wasn’t going to give in to temptation. I had a reputation to uphold, after all. Besides, another sniff told me there was no alcohol in it.

  “No, thanks,” I replied with a heavy dose of sarcasm, “I had a juice box on the way over.”

  “Oh, cool,” Warren remarked. “I love those.”

  “Riiight,” I said at length. “Anyway, you…”

  I paused and sniffed the air again. There was a scent of cheese and sweat, of finely pressed suits, and of chiseled metal with smoothed cylinders. How I could smell that last bit, I honestly do not know.

  But it all came down to one thing: goblins.

  My eyes sought out the location of the smell. It was off to my left, which also happened to be the direction that Warren was looking…and pointing.

  “They haven’t done anything besides cause some minor disturbances,” he explained. “Everyone around here thinks it’s a show.”

  “And we’re sure it’s not?” asked Rachel.

  “We would have been notified,” I answered for Warren. “Well, we should have been notified anyway.” I turned back to our wizard. “When you reported it to Lydia, did she run a check?”

  “She did,” he said between sips. “Said there was nothing going on that she was aware of.”

  So here we were in the middle of the casino with seven goblins holding tommy guns. I scanned them again. Okay, six of them were holding guns. The last one was probably the boss. He needed no guns. He had a coin in his hand and he was rolling it
expertly around in his fingers. It rolled over the top knuckles, slid under for a quick reset, and then bounced across the top again. He was clearly the boss. There was just something about him that screamed ‘boss.’ Confidence. Deadly confidence. He wouldn’t think twice about offing any guy on his squad, and that went double for people not on his squad.

  “What’s the play?” Rachel asked.

  “You’re going to go and tell them to get the fuck out,” I answered coldly and then clenched my teeth. “Sorry.”

  “Oh, don’t be,” she cooed. “I’m finding it rather interesting.”

  Warren stopped sipping and slowly lowered his drink. He was frowning at us.

  “What’s going on with you guys?” he ventured. “Some new sex thing or something?”

  My eyes did that smoldering thing again. “What?” I barked.

  He nearly fell off his chair.

  “Jeez, Chief! Sorry!”

  I shook my head and growled at myself. This was not going well. I had to get control of myself, and quick.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m…sorry. It’s just that I have—”

  “PMS,” Rachel interrupted. “He has PMS.”

  Warren grimaced. “What?”

  “Yeah,” I concurred, “what?”

  “Post Masturbation Syndrome,” Rachel clarified quickly. Warren glanced away, appearing confused. Rachel gave me a wink and a thumb’s up. “I was away and Ian was alone and…” She leaned in toward Warren. “Well, you know how he is.”

  Warren edged away from my hands, looking down at them with disgust.

  So when I got all angst-ridden and grumpy, Rachel became a goofball? What the fuck was the world coming to?

  “Seriously?” I said via direct connection. “That’s what you come up with?”

  “What were you going to say, Ian?” she fought back. “Maybe something about how the vampire or werewolf in you was aggravated and in need of feeding?”

  “No, but I wasn’t going to tell him that I was feeling surly from jerking off, either.” I broke the connection and spoke up. “Let’s just move on, shall we?”

  The goblins pushed the pace before I had a chance to, anyway. Like a small gang from the early twentieth century, they rattled off a number of rounds at the ceiling, causing all the patrons to scream and hit the deck. The only people remaining on their feet when the gunshots stopped were me and Rachel.

  We stared at the goblins and they stared at us.

  Then their leader gained eye contact with me and smiled.

  He had a silver tooth.

  CHAPTER 7

  I glanced down at Warren and shook my head. I could understand customers hitting the ground, but he was a member of the PPD, for crying out loud.

  “Lydia,” I called through the connector, “you’re going to need to get The Spin down here for this one.”

  “I’ll let them know, honey cakes.”

  That didn’t give us much time before Paula Rose came in and started grumbling at me. Something told me that I wasn’t going to be as easy to push around as usual, though. But I did feel bad for her this time because there were a lot of tourists lying on the ground here, and things were no doubt about to get worse. That meant she’d have to come up with something good. Unfortunately, the only thing I could imagine that would work was the time-honored “It’s a new show that we’re trying out in Vegas!” line. Paula hated that line.

  Rachel took a step forward and crossed her arms. That took away the goblin’s smirk. Obviously, he had a girlfriend too.

  “What’s going on here?” Rachel said.

  “We’s movin’ in, that’s what,” he replied in a New York accent that was fitting for the hotel we were currently in. “This is our joint, now.”

  “Oh, I see,” Rachel replied in mock surprise. “Well, forgive me then. May I ask your name?”

  “Spanx.”

  Rachel snorted and then cleared her throat. “Like the ladies’ undergarments?”

  “Sure, I like ladies’ undergarments,” he replied with a shrug. “I don’t wear ‘em or nothin’, but I’m all right with how they look on the dolls.”

  “Dolls?”

  “He’s talking like he’s from the twenties and thirties,” I noted. “They’re gangsters, remember?”

  “Ah, right.” She turned back to the goblin. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Spanx.”

  He gave Rachel the once-over. “And you is?”

  “I’m Officer Rachel Cress from the Las Vegas Paranormal Police Department.” She then motioned at me. “This is Ian Dex, he’s the chief of our division. And that”—she pointed at the floor—“is our resident wizard. His name is Warren.”

  Warren waved.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “So you’re coppers, eh?” He grunted and looked at his gang. They chuckled in a not-so-friendly way. “Never much liked coppers, except the dead ones.”

  “They’s best in the grave, boss” agreed another goblin, “‘cause deep down they ain’t so bad.”

  Spanx laughed at that.

  “What’s your play here, Spanx?” asked Rachel as I casually reached for Boomy. “I’m guessing you don’t want to waste a bunch of normals, since that’s one of those things that goes on your permanent record.”

  “You mean what we just done ain’t going on our permanent records?”

  “Well, uh…,” Rachel started. “I mean, sure it will…but, you know what I’m saying.”

  “Idiot,” I whispered and then jolted.

  Okay, seriously…what the fuck was going on?

  I was usually the one saying the stupid shit to the perps, and then Rachel called me an “idiot.” Now, granted, I was also usually the one talking to perps and not Rachel, so maybe this was just validation that I wasn’t any more of an idiot than anyone else.

  That didn’t make me feel much better.

  Still, for me to call her an idiot just proved I was changing. Change is good, sure, but not when it happens this rapidly.

  I was just glad Rachel turned and glared at me. It made it clear that she wasn’t as far gone as me. She was all into this new Ian-Dex-and-his-brooding-angst-shit that was going on, though.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  She resumed her talk with Spanx.

  “This doesn’t have to go poorly, you know?”

  “Define ‘poorly,’ doll,” Spanx said. “If you’s mean somethin’ like my chopper squad here fittin’ a few coppers with Chicago Overcoats, I’d be good with that.”

  Rachel furrowed her brow and looked at me.

  “Chicago Overcoats?”

  “Coffin,” I replied and then shrugged. “You may recall that I rather enjoy watching documentaries.”

  “Uh-huh.” She cleared her throat and turned back. “What’s it going to take to resolve this peacefully, Spanx?”

  “Hmmm,” he mused, tapping his chin as he started walking back and forth in front of his henchmen. “I suppose we could start with a nice bag of ice.”

  Rachel connected to me directly. “Ice?”

  “He means diamonds,” I explained.

  “Then why not just say that?” Rachel countered.

  “Maybe a couple of dames,” Spanx went on. Then he paused and scanned Rachel. “A Sheba like you would do the trick.”

  “Sheba?”

  “An attractive woman.”

  “Oh!” She smiled and batted her eyelashes. “He thinks I’m a Sheba?”

  “Ugh.”

  I want to point out again that I was the one who just said “ugh” right there. My fangs were itching to come out, too. So were my claws.

  This just wasn’t my day.

  “While I appreciate your compliment, good sir,” Rachel said, blushing, “I’m already spoken for.”

  She motioned at me.

  “Bah,” Spanx said, waving a dismissive hand at me, “what’s this dewdropper got that I ain’t got?”

  “The height requirement needed to ride the rollercoaster outside,” I suggested
.

  His eyes grew dark. This didn’t bother me at all, seeing that mine had that newfound smoldering capability.

  “That a short joke, wise guy?” he challenged.

  “Tiny and bright,” I replied without inflection. “Double-threat guy.”

  “That’s it,” Spanx said. “Light ‘em up!”

  I tackled Rachel an instant before the first rounds flew out of those tommy guns. She’d have been torn to shreds by those damn weapons. Of course I would have been too, but Rachel wasn’t thinking at the same speed of violence that I currently was. I was essentially a wrecking ball waiting to be unleashed.

  Bullets were shattering glasses and bottles as people screamed and crawled, doing their best to get away.

  “Stay down,” I yelled at those closest to me.

  They stopped.

  I brought up Boomy and unleashed a breaker bullet right through the nearest goblin gangster. He flew back, crashing into the shoulder of another goblin who was just enough out of the way not to get hit with the same bullet.

  “Stop!” Spanx yelled out, causing his goons to quit firing. The crowd was still in a fit of panic, but even they paused. Spanx glared at me. “You wanna play tough, eh?”

  He snapped his fingers and a lot more goblins poured out from the space behind him.

  Shit.

  Then the little goblin boss did something even worse. Something I couldn’t have seen coming, even if I’d had all day to study the situation first.

  He cast a fireball.

  CHAPTER 8

  T he bar erupted in flames, but Rachel was quick to hit it with an ice barrage, cooling it off instantly.

  “A mage, eh?” Spanx called out. “That’ll make things more interesting.”

  His hands glowed again, as did Rachel’s.

  This must have been too much for me, because I felt the pulse of magic flowing through my veins. It was like being in the middle of the desert and seeing a nice, cool pool within diving distance. My body was begging me to let it flow.