Primal Bounty_Pendragon Gargoyles

by Sydney Somers

  If Vaughn was a Shadow, then she’d already grossly underestimated him, and she planned on investigating that further at her earliest opportunity.

  “Is that why Piper was abducted? Because someone found out who you are?” she asked.

  “And who am I?”

  Definitely not the same gargoyle she’d made her mind up about during the Gauntlet.

  Guessing he had no intention of admitting whether or not he was affiliated with the group many chalked up as imaginary, she leaned back in her chair. “So while you were playing Robin Hood, someone snatched your sister and you don’t know why.”

  “First Superman and now Robin Hood. Is it possible I’m changing your opinion of me?”

  She ignored his probing gaze.

  “Not everyone makes enemies everywhere they go, Ivy.”

  “Maybe not, but it certainly keeps things exciting.” Even if it was a little exhausting at times.

  She’d grown up with two options—prove that she was stronger than everyone else, bluffing in some instances if necessary, or accept a life of being preyed upon by those who thought they could take her magic from her.

  And if the demonstrations of her strength and reckless behavior over the years had earned her a certain reputation, she’d certainly learned how to use that to her advantage in recent years.

  “So what you stole today will buy your sister’s freedom?” she asked, choosing to stick with a safer subject instead of probing Vaughn for details about his missions as a Shadow. That might lead to questions she wasn’t prepared to answer herself.

  This time Vaughn nodded instead of turning her words around on her.

  She crossed her arms. “I’m surprised the rebellion is willing to give up something that powerful when it could give them an edge with Morgana.”

  The lines around his eyes tightened, and she realized she wasn’t the only one trying to keep a low profile these days.

  “So they don’t know what was in the box either,” she guessed. Wasn’t that interesting.

  Vaughn cocked his head

  Chances were tonight would have played out very differently if Vaughn’s rebellion leader had any idea what had been in that hidden chamber.

  I’ve been waiting for you…

  That voice… She hadn’t imagined it earlier had she? She’d heard someone call out to her. Was the magic in the box so old it could toy with her like that?

  She was sure there was more she couldn’t remember, but whatever it was remained just out of reach.

  “Elena?”

  She lifted her head just as the waiter returned to clear their plates. His hand trembled, sending the fork tumbling back to the table. He muttered an apology, his gaze darted to the farthest corner of the piano bar.

  Smiling at Vaughn, she angled her body to give herself a better view of that part of the bar while she surveyed the crowd for the source of the prickle that raced across the back of her neck.

  Someone was watching them.

  “He’ll take the bill,” she said to the waiter.

  “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

  She finished her drink and stood. “You’re not the only one who gets to change the rules.”

  She took the time Vaughn spent paying the waiter to watch the musicians and scan the crowded bar, unable to pin down what caused the uneasy awareness that rippled across her senses.

  Vaughn slipped an arm around her waist, steering her toward the door. “Two guys. One in a red and white shirt that looks like a Starry Night rip-off. His friend is blond and thuggish and wearing a black muscle shirt.”

  The lingering doubts she had about Vaughn being a Shadow continued to be systematically wiped out. “How long?”

  “They sat down right when our food came.”

  And he hadn’t betrayed a hint that he suspected someone was watching them.

  A little annoyed that she’d taken so long to notice, she leaned in like she was whispering something flirtatious in his ear. “Do you know them?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not me they were watching.”

  ***

  Outside on the sidewalk, Vaughn steered her back toward the heart of the Strip.

  Elena only caught a glimpse of the guy in the red and white shirt trailing them from the piano bar, and then she and Vaughn joined the rest of the Sin City masses making their way along Las Vegas Boulevard.

  A burst of laughter rang out in front of them, and Vaughn pulled her into the middle of the thirty-deep group wearing matching T-Shirts marking them as members of the Marshall Family.

  Vaughn tugged her to the side, and she narrowly dodged the splash of one of their drinks at the last second. She might have said something to the careless mortal, but Vaughn caught her hand and kept her moving.

  “No turning innocent people into frogs in the middle of the street.”

  “And what about irritating wolves?”

  “I’ll leash the first one I see.” He grinned and drew her closer.

  The urge to simply close her eyes and lean into him might have surprised her, but she was too preoccupied with how good the wolf smelled.

  “Are they still following us?”

  She didn’t doubt for a second that he already knew the answer to his question. She surveyed their immediate surroundings anyway. “I don’t see them.”

  They weren’t easy to spot with so many people on the street.

  Beyond the family group who hemmed them in, she could identify a bachelorette party walking behind them in their matching sashes. Numerous couples strolled nearby, some laughing and taking selfies, some admiring the lights while one argued, probably about gambling too much.

  That was Vegas for you. And she never grew bored of it. Not the lights or the tourists or the entertainment, or the sheer sense of wonder and excitement that seemed to permeate the very air here.

  “You’re enjoying yourself,” Vaughn murmured, easing away before she began to process what his increasing proximity did to her pulse.

  She shrugged. “I’m always enjoying myself.” Not entirely true, but it was becoming increasingly impossible not to enjoy herself whenever the wolf was around.

  She studied him from the corner of her eye. “Does it make you uncomfortable, being the prey instead of the hunter?”

  He smiled, the savage edge to his lips unmistakable. “Anyone who confuses me with prey deserves their fate.”

  She made a mental note to find out if Vaughn really was one of the rebellion’s Shadows. “Clearly I’m not the only one enjoying myself.”

  When he gave her that look again, the one that said whatever was going on between them was far more than just enjoying themselves and he was ready to prove it, she couldn’t glance away.

  Damn the wolf with his stunning eyes and slow, wicked grins.

  She dragged in a deep breath. “You sure they’re not looking for you? Maybe they know what you were up to earlier.”

  “They didn’t take their eyes off you at dinner.”

  “I am pretty cute,” she quipped.

  Vaughn saw right through the remark to the lingering annoyance that she hadn’t picked up on her admirers sooner. “Or maybe you are just too enamored with your date to notice anyone else.”

  “You are not my date.”

  “I paid. That makes me your date.” His smile was charmingly smug.

  Unable to respond without somehow feeding his theory that he was growing on her, she chose not to answer.

  He grinned at her, her lack of response apparently just as incriminating. If she was smart, she’d pull away from the hand holding onto her, but damn if she didn’t like the feel of his fingers wrapped around hers.

  Downplaying the sensation, she scanned both sides of the sidewalk, wondering what their pursuers were after. She might have been keeping a low profile lately, but that didn’t mean she would turn from a fight, and the list of suspects with a grudge against her was never short.

  Vaughn slowed and faced her. “You really need to stop thin
king so hard about kissing me.” He ran a finger between her brows, the soft caress at odds with how quickly he moved. “It’s making you frown too much.”

  He walked backward into the crowd. “And if you say you’d rather kiss a mangy mutt, you should know that can be arranged.”

  If she dared to think about kissing him for more than a moment at a time, he wouldn’t waste a second teasing her about it. He’d pounce.

  And then she’d be the prey.

  He’d swallow her whole, and she was feeling just reckless enough to let him, even when she knew better. Even when it went against every instinct she’d relied on to keep her one step ahead of the game. Always.

  Not willing to surrender that lead, she went on the offensive. She caught up to Vaughn and slapped a palm to his chest, backing him against the nearest wall.

  The wolf flashed in his eyes, retreating the moment she pressed into him, fitting snug to his front.

  “How about we just get it out of the way then?”

  He frowned. So he wasn’t quite following, then. Good. She liked keeping the gargoyle on his toes. “The kiss,” she clarified.

  His attention dropped to her lips, taking too much oxygen with it and leaving her light-headed.

  A cooling breeze blew her hair across her face, and Vaughn caught the wild strands and tucked them behind her ear. “Unfortunately, I don’t kiss on the first date, Ivy.”

  He pushed them away from the wall, his gaze touching on something over her shoulder, and then they were moving, sliding back into the Marshall family pack.

  She glanced behind her as if to catch a replay of what just happened. One minute she’d been in control, and then he’d turned the tables on her.

  Sneaky wolf.

  She motioned to the surrounding group. “Safety in numbers, huh?”

  “I figured it might be easier for you to control yourself with witnesses.” He winked, and she couldn’t decide if he was talking about controlling herself with Vaughn, or the men following them.

  Not once did she notice Vaughn openly survey their surroundings, yet he seemed much too comfortable to be oblivious to every nuance of the nightlife atmosphere that thrived around them.

  As they walked with the group, Vaughn chatted up various members of the Marshall family with an ease she briefly envied. She had always been better at making enemies than friends.

  If he kept it up, by the end of the night he’d probably know the names of everyone in the entire Marshall clan and how they were connected to the older couple advertising their 50th anniversary on the back of their T-shirts.

  Half a century. Gods, she couldn’t imagine a man fitting into her life so completely for a week, let alone half a century. With the kind of life she led these days, questions would inevitably rise when she disappeared without explanation.

  Vaughn laughed at something someone said. She’d tuned out the conversation, but couldn’t tune out Vaughn or the way his fingers kept tightening over hers. Like she mattered.

  Moments later he caught her staring at him, holding her gaze long enough to unleash a handful of caged butterflies into her stomach, and then he turned back to whatever the man next to him was saying.

  How did he do that effortlessly? How did he keep tabs on the conversation, their surroundings and still make a point to let her know he was thinking about her without saying a word?

  She knew how to work a crowd and not lose sight of her goal, but she had never done it with someone like Vaughn in the room. Or if she had, she’d been smart enough to steer clear of him and avoid the potential complications.

  Too intrigued for her own good, she continued along, listening to the lulling rhythm of his voice as he talked.

  Vaughn was content to stick with the Marshall family right up until the group made their way toward the High Roller, an over-sized Ferris wheel that towered above them, it’s observation pods offering a one-of-a-kind view of Vegas.

  Vaughn tipped his head back, staring up at the massive tourist attraction. “How tall is it?”

  “Five hundred and fifty feet. Nine feet taller than that last record holder for largest observation wheel in Singapore.”

  “So you’ve ridden it before.”

  She nodded. There wasn’t much in Vegas she hadn’t tried at least once.

  He visibly shuddered.

  “Not a fan of heights?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “You do know the fall won’t kill you, right?” Just one of the perks of being impervious to just about everything except decapitation and mystical weapons.

  “Still think I’m a Shadow?”

  She wasn’t ruling anything out at this point. His attention to detail and razor-sharp reflexes were a little too honed for a gargoyle simply dabbling with fighting the good fight.

  “Did you go alone?”

  “So you’re a jealous date,” she teased.

  He waited until she nodded, that she had been by herself at the time. She’d done it numerous times since then with Emma, Leah and Nessa. But her first trip had been solo.

  He frowned like her answer bothered him for some reason.

  “I don’t play well with others, remember?” She scanned the crowd again, highly aware of Vaughn’s gaze never leaving her.

  A flash of red and white speared her peripheral vision, and she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the person’s face.

  “This way.” Vaughn pressed his hand to her lower back, guiding her away from the groups clustered around the High Roller.

  The crowd pressed closer, and someone bumped into Vaughn. He growled in warning, the feral sound overhead by a handful of people nearby who backed up to give them a wide berth.

  A slash of red saturated the shoulder of his shirt. “You’re bleeding.”

  Magic surged within her, burning across her palm.

  Vaughn grabbed her wrist. “Not here.”

  She stared at the flicker of blue flame itching to find a target and made a fist, extinguishing the fireball. “They cut you.”

  “Rushing to defend my honor?” He feigned a smile as he surveyed the area. “It was a warning. Nothing more.”

  A warning about what? “Do you think they know what we took?”

  “We? I thought you were just along for the ride?” He checked his wound, a two inch cut not even deep enough for stitches by the looks of it.

  It would heal as soon as he turned to stone at dawn.

  Vaughn motioned for them to keep walking. “Let’s get you back to the Wolf’s Den.”

  Would someone have gotten that close if Vaughn really was a Shadow, or had he been distracted by the same glimpse of red and white she’d picked up on?

  They didn’t catch sight of either guy, or whoever had attacked Vaughn, on their extended walk back to Mac’s casino.

  She knew the area well enough to recognize that Vaughn deliberately chose a route that offered plenty of opportunities for their pursuers to show themselves in a less public fashion.

  Unfortunately, either they’d moved on after making some kind of point with the knife, or they waited to strike when she and Vaughn wouldn’t be expecting it.

  The only part that didn’t make sense was why they’d hurt Vaughn if she’d been the one in their sights. Had they believed they needed to go through Vaughn to get her?

  She laughed at the thought.

  “Care to share with the rest of the class?”

  “Not particularly,” she echoed, thinking of his earlier response about heights.

  They reached the entrance to the Wolf’s Den with no further trouble.

  If part of her was anticipating Mac waiting to confront them for their earlier activities, she had to settle for disappointment. No one so much as glanced at them with any interest when they crossed the lobby toward the elevators, let alone moved to intercept them.

  “Crushed by the lack of fanfare?”

  How in the hell did he keep reading her so easily? “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.” Dismissin
g the gargoyle, she raised her hand to press the button for the elevator. “Goodnight.”

  Vaughn’s hand closed over hers.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The wolf nudged Vaughn’s mind, straining for more than just a brush of Elena’s fingers.

  Windblown hair cascaded around her face in a dark halo that promised the very opposite of sweet and angelic. A streak of blue raced across her cheek, disappearing so quickly he nearly missed it.

  The animal in him prowled closer to the surface.

  “It’s like a magic all your own when the wolf shows itself.” She took a step closer, her gaze locked on his. “What’s it like? To never feel completely alone?”

  It took him a second to realize she wasn’t making a dig or trying to spark a reaction. She was genuinely curious.

  “I imagine it’s a lot like growing up with a twin. Sometimes it’s great and sometimes it drives you crazy.”

  She parted her lips to say something, but whatever it was slipped away when the elevator doors scrolled open.

  He followed her into the lift. She arched a brow.

  “I’m walking you to your door.”

  “That still doesn’t make this a date.”

  He laughed and pressed the button for her floor. Their hands brushed as he stepped back next to her, unsure who reached for the other first.

  He glanced down at the slender fingers laced with his own. How long had it been since he’d held someone’s hand beside his mother or sister’s? Two centuries? Three?

  It was an intimacy shared with few and yet he’d reached for Elena’s hand more than once without even thinking about it.

  Even more surprising was the prickly sorceress allowing it, never mind that he’d bet his entire score tonight on the certainty she liked it just as much as he did.

  They reached Elena’s floor, and he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, angling one shoulder to move her out of the way in a hurry should it be necessary.

  The door opened to a deserted hallway.

  Elena’s lips quirked in amusement. “Mac pays Briana a small fortune for security systems that blend tech and Fae glamour. Between that and the team running the surveillance in this place, an immortal would have to be an idiot to start anything here.”