“You’re doing a fantastic job of selling yourself,” she drawled.
“And we both know you’re not going to call anyone, because you want to know what I stole.”
***
“You’re stalling,” Elena pointed out between sips of her martini.
“Maybe I’m just enjoying the company.”
Vaughn motioned the waiter toward their corner table in a small piano bar that was just close enough to the Strip to draw in the occasional tourist passing by.
Not that it mattered. He would have gone to any one of the overcrowded dance bars that made the wolf’s ears bleed if it meant he got to spend a few more minutes with Elena.
Somehow he found himself having a good time even when she was using her magic to pin him to the wall, and he could count on two fingers how many times he’d enjoyed anything since his sister’s abduction.
And both of them involved the volatile sorceress.
A stab of guilt knifed his stomach. He shouldn’t be enjoying anything when he didn’t know where Piper was. And if he launched into another round of blaming himself—no matter how much he deserved it—the next two days would be even more unbearable.
Vaughn ordered another drink, along with food for both of them when Elena showed no interest in opening the menu, despite the thoughtful glances she cast at the plates piled high with food that passed their table.
“I agreed to one drink,” she reminded him.
“I’m certainly not forcing you to endure my company.”
“Good point.” She drained her glass and stood.
“Wait.” He grabbed her hand before he thought better of it. He’d pushed his luck enough already, but couldn’t seem to help himself. “Stay. Please.”
She stared at their joined hands, and he wondered if there was a chance in hell she felt it too, that curious pull that started somewhere in his gut and twisted up into his chest, holding his next breath hostage while he waited for her to answer.
Common sense told him to release her, but instinct said she’d bolt if he did. He compromised by softening his grip and squeezing her fingers for a long moment. “I haven’t done this in a really long time.”
“I just assumed bribery went hand in hand with breaking and entering.”
“Half a century.”
She waited.
“That’s how long it’s been since I’ve shared a meal with a woman who genuinely interested me.” And no one had ever interested him as much as Elena did, but he kept that part to himself.
She whistled. “You’re practically a born-again virgin.”
Although the wolf growled in protest, he released her and forced himself to lean back in his chair. “If you have other plans then I’ll do my best not to draw too much attention by crying in my beer.” He wiped at an imaginary tear.
Elena rolled her eyes but sat, not quite hiding the smile that flitted around the edges of her mouth.
Was he finally making progress?
He set his arms on the table, studying her.
She mirrored his pose. “Well?”
“I’m trying to decide if you look hotter when you’re scowling at me.”
“I definitely need another drink if you’re going to get cheesy on me.” She raised her empty glass at a passing waiter.
“Maybe cheesy is exactly what you need.”
“And you think you’re in a position to know what I need?”
“Just an observation. One I’m happy to turn into an actionable item. Just say the word.”
She cocked her head, the hair she kept tucking behind her right ear spilling free once more. “What’s the deal?”
“With?”
“Earlier you were all dark and broody and now…” She trailed off, seeming to think it over. “This feels like the real Vaughn, but I know the man-on-a-mission is still in there somewhere.”
“He is. But he was kicked out and told to distract himself for a day or two.”
“And I’m the distraction.” She sounded a little relieved for reasons Vaughn didn’t follow, but he didn’t correct the assumption, or tell her that she’d been the only thing he’d let distract him from getting his sister back.
Unfortunately Dare had also put that together when they’d met up after Vaughn left the casino. Once Dare got over his shock about Elena’s involvement and couldn’t take another minute of Vaughn’s pacing in their hotel room, his friend told him to get lost.
Since they were in a holding pattern waiting for the buyer, they both didn’t need to babysit their prize. And after Elena’s reaction to the object in the box, they’d both decided that keeping tabs on her would be a better use of Vaughn’s time.
Breaking in and using Elena’s shower was probably not what Dare had in mind when he suggested Vaughn keep a close eye on her.
Even Vaughn had to admit it was a ballsy move, but he’d wanted to be sure he had her full attention.
“So why the gambling?” It wasn’t a secret that Elena frequented the Wolf’s Den, and he’d always been curious about her apparent love for taking risks, big or small.
She waited a beat, as if deciding whether or not to answer. “Because anything is possible.”
The answer shouldn’t have surprised him given Elena’s penchant for unpredictability, but the response was a little more romanticized than he’d been expecting from the sorceress.
“And you’re not tempted to use your magic to influence the odds?”
“Knowing I’m going to win usually takes the fun out of it. Plus Mac has a low tolerance for that kind of thing,” she said pointedly.
“There are other casinos,” he reminded her.
“I’m easily bored and there’s usually something interesting going on at the Wolf’s Den whenever I’m in town.”
“And when you’re not gambling or finding trouble?”
“You do realize you’re asking questions that people ask on dates.”
“And this isn’t a date,” he finished for her.
She nodded and took a sip of the martini the waiter returned with. “You have no intention of telling me what was in that box, do you?”
“You tell me what happened down there and I’ll share what I know.”
She surveyed the small piano bar.
Thinking of leaving or considering the offer?
“You should probably leave the bargaining to the Fae. They’re much better at it than you are,” she mused.
“But they’re not nearly as charming.”
She grinned. “You clearly haven’t met many Fae.”
Returning the smile was easier than breathing, the tug of it coming from somewhere under his ribs. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”
He hadn’t spent any great amount of time around Elena’s kind, but every immortal in Avalon knew how much they craved amassing power and magic, especially the ancient kind.
Most of them were a little more subtle than Morgana, but he’d heard stories of sorcerers enslaving weaker members of their kind, siphoning their victim’s magic over the years or even decades like a parasite.
Arranged marriages were common in hopes the children conceived would bring more power to both Houses. Vaughn was pretty sure Elena’s sister had been destined for an arranged marriage before her gargoyle mate complicated matters.
“I thought about it,” she admitted. “One minute I could tell the magic was somehow toxic, and then suddenly possessing it was all that mattered.”
Her frankness surprised him. “You wanted it that bad?”
“Yeah.”
“We are talking about that kiss right?”
Elena played with her glass, unable to mask the amusement that made her eyes spark blue. He liked watching the way they followed him closely, as if she was trying to anticipate his next move.
“What was in the box, Toto?”
He was saved from answering as their waiter delivered two burgers with piles of fresh-cut fries on the side.
Forgetting that she hadn’t wanted to eat, El
ena popped a fry into her mouth, then lifted the bun off the top of her burger. She shriveled her nose at the pickles.
He used his fork to snatch them off her burger and added them to his own. Her gaze darted away so fast he couldn’t get a read on her. He settled for picking up his burger instead. At least he could do something about one of his cravings.
Vaughn waited until Elena took a bite to speak only to find his words trapped in his throat when she moaned over a mouthful of food.
Suddenly satisfying his hunger for food wasn’t as important as figuring out how to get her to make that sound again, or more importantly, how to make it happen when there wasn’t a table separating them.
“I don’t know.” If she was going to leave, it was better if she did it before he thought any more about the heat crackling between them that was going to burn him alive. “I have no idea what was in the box because I didn’t look. I didn’t want to know.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Elena took another bite of her burger, trying to focus on the fact he’d deliberately misled her.
Instead her brain kept circling back to the part where he’d snagged the pickles she hated, and for some ridiculous reason it made her want to smile.
Vaughn continued to surprise her, much to her delight and her dismay. She didn’t know what to think about the fact that the more time she spent with him, the less she seemed to dislike him.
“You’re still here,” he pointed out.
She shrugged and stuffed another fry into her mouth, concentrating on the salty crispness and not on the gargoyle who looked like he’d pounce the moment she betrayed a hint of softening toward him.
His eyes brightened, the calculating gleam entirely wolf. “You’re not surprised.”
“About which part? Because I definitely didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“And here I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type to show up to a party for the food.”
She stopped eating long enough to tick off the list on her fingers. “Cheating. Stealing. Blackmailing, more or less. And all in one day,” she added.
Even though she’d suspected he was playing her from the start, she’d gone along with him, as curious about where they’d end up as she was about the power object he’d stolen. “I’d be stupid to assume you planned on changing the rules of the game at this point. Besides, you have nothing to gain by telling me what you stole.”
“And everything to lose, I suppose.”
“You saw my reaction today, and that was without even knowing what you had in your possession.”
He leaned forward, intrigued. “How many times did you think about following me to see where I’d stash it?”
She pursed her lips. “Who says I didn’t follow you when you left the Wolf’s Den?” she countered. Having perfected her ability to bluff decades ago, it was almost too easy to plant the seed.
Disbelief, then uncertainty, followed finally by amusement blinked across his face.
She arched a brow.
The amusement faded for just a beat, then he grinned. “You wouldn’t be here if you wanted it.”
“You sure about that?” Because she wasn’t.
The memory of how strong the object had pulled at her lingered despite the icy certainty that possessing it would come with a price too steep even for her. Even if it might be the one thing that could level the field where Morgana was concerned.
No. Wanting it definitely wasn’t the issue. But she’d learned a few harsh lessons about wielding magic that whispered that kind of siren’s call, and she suspected that whatever Vaughn stole was far older than one of Constantine’s daggers.
And there were few immortals who wouldn’t fight to possess the mystical weapons forged by Arthur’s heir before he disappeared after the battle of Camlann.
The daggers were rumored to reveal Excalibur’s resting place when reunited, but so far only three had been located, and two of them were supposedly in the possession of a goddess out of commission.
Morgana had the other one.
If Morgana managed to get her hands on all the daggers first, she’d use Excalibur to claim all of Avalon and leave Arthur to rot for the rest of eternity. Assuming the bedtime stories of Arthur’s possible resurrection were to be believed.
Vaughn’s food went untouched as he decided how sure he was that she didn’t ache to possess his prize.
Playful rogue or not, he was still ruthless at his core, like every being—human or immortal. Apply the right pressure and even the most laid-back individual could be capable of the unimaginable, and Vaughn’s sister had clearly been his pressure point.
As much as she respected his determination to go to any lengths to get his family back, she knew that made him dangerous in ways she couldn’t afford to underestimate, no matter how much fun she was having.
“If you don’t trust me not to cheat, steal or blackmail you, again, and assuming you have no real plans to liberate what I stole, then there must be another reason you’re with me right now.”
She’d been trying to pin down that elusive reason ever since she’d sat down at the Blackjack table earlier tonight. “Such as?”
The way he tipped his head as he studied her was more animal than man, and she got the distinct impression the gargoyle’s wolf half lingered closer to the surface than she realized.
She wasn’t exactly a stranger to intense looks, but in her experience they were usually hostile or meant to seduce her into sacrificing some of her magical strength.
Vaughn’s was neither. And somehow that was a hundred times worse.
If he had an ulterior motive for seeking her out tonight, she couldn’t piece it together. He probably looked at every female who caught his attention with such feverish intent like that, and yet…
Shaking off that train of thought, she reached for her burger only to discover she’d finished it off without paying attention.
“Maybe you are here for the food.” Vaughn cut what was left of his burger in half, stripped off the offensive pickles and set it in front of her.
“I guess I should be happy you didn’t just kill something and drop the raw meat on my plate.” She dug into the food, needing something to settle the dancing nerves that twirled unchecked through her stomach.
“So what did you do, anyway?”
Vaughn stole a fry off her plate. “You’re going to need to be a bit more specific, Ivy.”
“I’ve dragged—” in some cases pushed, “—my sister into trouble enough times to know guilt when I see it. What did you do that got your sister abducted?”
The abrupt change in subject only managed to dim his devilish smile a fraction. “I stopped paying attention.”
“Did you stalk her, too?”
“Is that what I’m doing?” He pushed his plate away.
Wolves were known for their playful natures, and she suspected the animal in him had found something more entertaining to play with than food.
“I’m reserving judgment.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “So you stopped paying attention,” she prompted, a little too intrigued by the man opposite her.
“Before my parents died they made me promise to get Piper as far away from the rebellion as I could. And I did. For centuries I made sure Piper wasn’t anywhere near the scheming and plotting to retake Camelot.”
“While you continued to work behind the scenes.”
He laughed. “Not right away, but eventually I realized that my people would always be at risk of losing their loved ones, the way I lost my parents, as long as Morgana was in power.”
Intrigued by his history, she forgot about the crowded restaurant. “And Piper never realized what you were up to?” The younger gargoyle was either clueless or in denial.
“Not for a few centuries. I wasn’t openly involved in the rebellion.”
She shook her head. “You were part of the rebellion for centuries and she never…” Her words slipped away as she considered the only possibility that made sense,
no matter how unlikely, her heart picking up speed. “You’re a Shadow.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Everyone knows Shadows are just a form of propaganda to keep people believing in the cause.”
For a long time Elena had believed the same thing.
Having been born centuries after the rebellion was formed to fight Morgana, Elena had spent most of her life following the movement at a distance, often questioning the wisdom of being at war for over a thousand years with no clear victory in sight.
A ruthless strategist and the most powerful sorceress in Avalon, partially due to the cattle of sorcerers rumored to feed her magic, Morgana wasn’t above sacrificing her own kind or even her own son, to gain more control of Avalon.
But that didn’t stop the rebellion from trying to pry Camelot from her greedy fingers, or sabotage any attempt to locate and reunite Constantine’s daggers.
And the only other being with a real stake in making sure Morgana didn’t get her hands on all the daggers was now entombed and protected by her guard dogs, the huntresses.
For most of her life Elena had remained neutral when it came to the fight for Camelot for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was avoiding that kind of attention. She was already a prime candidate for Morgana’s cattle without presenting herself as the enemy by openly siding with the rebellion.
Of course things were never that simple.
Although now that her twin was mated to a gargoyle, a former member of Arthur’s elite guard no less, Elena knew it was only a matter of time before she’d have to make her allegiance clear.
Until then, she was happy to rely on her outrageous behavior to deflect expectations, or suspicions, depending on the day.
Banking on the rebellion alone to get the job done had never appealed to her, and vague whispers of the Shadows, the rebellion’s supposed secret weapons, hadn’t filled her with confidence.
Each time the Shadows—ninja-like immortals said to take on missions virtually guaranteed to cost them their lives—came away with a victory against Morgana or her followers, the stories of their triumphs grew increasingly exaggerated until they more closely resembled tall tales.
Elena could even remember another sorceress claiming she’d once witnessed a Shadow survive decapitation, when all immortals knew that kind of blow was the kiss of death.
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