High Card: A Billionaire Shifter Novel (Lions of Las Vegas Book 1)

by Ellis Daniels, May

  I ignore her. Find the cartridge. Set it on my lap. Then I dig out a piece of clothing. A t-shirt. It smells like Summer. I resist the urge to bring it to my nose. Something about her. I think she saw my animal back there when I was nearly passed out. The lion. It’s almost as if she’s drawing him out.

  Communicating with him.

  Which is madness, since I can’t even communicate with him.

  He’s a fucking monster.

  Still. I’ve heard rumors.

  About humans who can speak to Wildblood animals.

  Not control them. But…befriend them.

  Establish a bond.

  Even…make them stronger.

  I lift the t-shirt up. “You’re bleeding. Let me wrap it.”

  “Doesn’t hurt.”

  “That’s because you’re in shock.”

  “You a doctor now?”

  “Actually I am. In addition to being an inventor, casino owner, botanist and a concert pianist. A regular Renaissance man.”

  Summer rolls her eyes. Looks at the t-shirt. She’s thinking about it.

  “Was that a joke?”

  “Was it funny?”

  “No.”

  “Let me wrap the wound.”

  We’re all the way on the dirt track now. Summer works the Rover into third. She’s not a bad driver. Stubborn as hell, too. And pretty, even though she’s clearly only a few screams away from all-out hysterics. With that dirty-blonde wig gone her natural hair is wavy and shoulder-length, a nice lustrous copper-brown that matches her eyes.

  Summer lifts her bleeding arm toward me. “I hope we don’t get eaten alive. That would totally not be okay.”

  She’s in shock. Otherwise she’d be screaming in pain from where the wildwolf gored her.

  “Me too,” I say as I begin wrapping the wound.

  “I want to murder you myself.”

  “I’m the one holding the gun.”

  “My gun.” Summer shoots me a brutal glare.

  “Your gun. Yes.”

  “What the hell happened to you, Landon?”

  I like how she says my name. I like a lot about her. Which is a shame, because she’s human—

  “Summer look out!”

  She ducks in time to avoid the wildwolf crashing through the driver’s window. I scramble to pick up the Ruger, press Summer’s head down against the console and loose two rounds. The first misses, the second catches the wolf in the jaw. He slides out of the Rover while we veer off the road and smash hard into a low outcrop of rock. There’s a bang and a leaking hiss that makes my blood run cold. I grab the wheel and steer us back onto the rutted track while Summer shrugs me off and sits up.

  “We need to get the fuck out of here,” she says, squinting through the rain.

  “Yes we do.”

  The Rover’s limping along, making a sickly whump-whump sound as the rim grinds against the rocky track.

  “Shit. Flat fucking tire.”

  “Stop the truck.”

  “What?”

  “Stop the truck.”

  Summer gives me a look like I’m insane. Maybe I am.

  “Why?”

  “So I can get out. It’s me the wolves are after.”

  “You? That makes zero sense. They’re wild animals. They don’t go after specific people. And besides. Why would they be after you?”

  I slip the Ruger’s cartridge into my front pocket and let a slow breath free. “Doesn’t matter why. It’s the way it is. I’ll hold them off. Get the Rover to the highway. Limp it to Vegas, then ditch it. I’m sure you can handle the rest. This is your town, after all.”

  Summer frowns. “Uh-uh. Doesn’t sit right. No way.”

  “I’m not asking.”

  “Oh? You’re telling?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.”

  Summer slows the Rover.

  I pop open the door.

  “Holy shit you’re serious?” Summer says, gunning the engine. The partially open door slams closed. “Are you insane? Hero complex much? They’ll eat you alive—”

  “They’ll eat us both alive if I don’t. I don’t know you. Shit. You stole from me—”

  “Tried to steal,” Summer corrects.

  “Tried to steal from me. But this is my fault. I won’t die knowing my curse killed an innocent woman. I have enough blood on my hands.”

  “I’m hardly innocent.”

  “Of this you are. Trust me.”

  “Fuck it. No way.”

  I can tell by her voice she means it. Then she turns and gives me a hard look. “Curse? What do you mean? Curse? Blood on your hands?”

  “I’m going to hop out. You can’t stop me.”

  Summer almost visibly withers. “You’re right. I can’t stop you. Go on and kill yourself. Fine. But don’t take my gun.”

  I stare at the pink-handled Ruger.

  “It’s the only thing I own that means something.”

  I set the gun and the spare cartridge on the floor. Summer’s eyes widen. She thought I wouldn’t go without the gun. I slip my hand over the door handle—

  “Wait! You gotta tell me. Why’d you call me out here? Those fucking photos? Of my apartment? C’mon, Landon—”

  “Summer?”

  “What?”

  “There’s five thousand dollars stashed under the truck’s insurance documents. I’m sorry about the trouble.”

  Summer smashes her fists on the wheel.

  “You fucking—”

  I pop the door open and roll out into the rain.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SUMMER

  “—BASTARD!”

  HE DID it. The crazy asshole actually threw himself out of the truck.

  To the wolves.

  No way I want that on my conscious. Playing hero.

  The stupid shit.

  It takes me maybe three seconds of deliberating before I slam the brakes, put the truck in neutral, pop the e-brake, grab my gun and spare cartridge and leap out after the idiot rich boy.

  The rain’s nearly blinding. My arm aches a shit-ton. I slip in the sandy mud, lean against the truck and look up. A wolf’s shadowy grey form slides from behind a clump of creosote bush a couple hundred yards up the hill. The thing’s huge, nearly twice as big as I thought a wolf would be.

  And the red eyes? I have no idea what to make of that. Rabies?

  I choke down a wave of nausea, step from the truck and begin waving my arms, shouting “Here wolfie wolfie wolfie! Here wolfie wolf!”

  Landon jumps around the Rover. Sees me. His mouth drops open. “Summer what the hell—”

  “Here wolfie! Here I am!”

  “Get in the Rover!”

  “Wolfie! Yoo-hoo!”

  “Summer get in the goddamned truck!”

  I lock gazes with Landon. “You first.”

  He’s standing frozen in the middle of the dirt road, framed by spiked yucca and twisted Joshua trees. The rain whips around him, making his blonde hair flutter wildly. His mud-stained khakis cling to his ripped thighs. He’s naked from the waist up; his sinewed forearms heavy with veins. His chest rises and falls as he draws in long breaths, the muscles in his abs carving a checkerboard pattern all the way down—

  Damn.

  This man. I want to hate him.

  He’s everything I’m not. Everything I’ve had to learn to despise just to survive. But I can’t. In fact I’m beginning to suspect just the opposite. I’m fucking falling for him…or at least my body is. Fine. I want to fuck him. No harm in that. As long as I keep my priorities on point.

  Landon straightens. He seems taller than I remember. More…imposing. His jaw juts forward in stubborn defiance. He stares out over the desert, toward the approaching wolves and the descending thunderclouds. For an instant I’m reminded of a magnificent predator surveying his kingdom.

  “You can’t be here,” he says, his glittering gold eyes narrowing.

  “I am here.”

  Three wolves circle down the hill, s
pitting and snarling, baring their long black fangs. Every fibre of my being shrieks to run. But I grit my teeth, force down the survival instinct, and say, “Man, they look hungry. Famished, even. Bet we look real tasty—”

  Landon seems to snap out of his trance.

  “What? Oh hell. This is just my luck.”

  That bugs me. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You’re a crazy bitch. That’s just my luck. Totally par for the course—”

  “Oh. I’m a crazy bitch?”

  “Yes. I knew it the moment I first saw you. That’s why I’m so…drawn to you.”

  “Wait…what? You did? I mean…you are?” I say, almost laughing at the back-handed compliment. “You have a thing for crazy bitches?”

  “No. Maybe. It doesn’t matter. Just please for the love of god get in the truck!”

  I take a step toward the wolves. They’re only a hundred yards off. Give them the finger. “Would a crazy bitch do that?”

  “I’m not fucking around, Summer. This isn’t a joke. Or one of your scams. This shit is real.” Landon’s face is bright red in fury. A vein’s popping along his brow almost all the way to his temple. Every muscle in his torso ripples and tenses. He seems sculpted from stone.

  Super hot.

  “Huh. You might be right. I guess this is what a crazy bitch would do. Wolfie! Wolfie! I think you do have a thing for—”

  “Get. In. The. Truck.”

  “No.”

  One of the wolves darts closer. I raise Layla and shoot at him. The bullet smacks into the sand a few feet over his right shoulder. The wolves scatter up the hillside and quickly out of sight.

  “There,” I say, feeling smug. “Bastards don’t like the sound of the—”

  Landon uses the moment of distraction to plough into me. He raises the gun so it’s pointing at the sky, which is a good thing because I fire another round without meaning to. Then he’s dragging me to the Rover, trying to shove me in the open driver’s side, trying to physically force me inside the truck, and I know he’s weak from whatever happened to him out here but he’s still stronger than me.

  A lot stronger.

  Landon clamps his hands on my wrists. I scream, accidentally dropping Layla onto the back seat. Try and knee him in the balls. Landon blocks my knee with his thigh and then I’m shrieking and spitting at him to let me go, calling him all sorts of nasty names. He stuffs my ass onto the driver’s seat and I get one of my legs around him so he can’t back away.

  I feel his hard, sculpted ass press against my calf, his incredibly sexy smell filling my nose as he uses his powerful bulk to push me even further into the truck. I’m fucking gasping, struggling against him, my pussy hot for him and now I don’t even know if I’m fighting him off or pulling him close.

  Landon’s gorgeous eyes sparkle golden with anger and something else…something that makes me lick my lips across his rain-soaked pec. He tastes of sweat and blood and survival. He growls down at me, wrenches on my wrists until I bite at him, almost catching his nipple between my teeth. I use the leg that’s wrapped around his ass to pull him close, feel the heavy bulge of his hard cock pressed tight against my swollen folds—

  Yup. I thought so. Dude’s as turned on as I am.

  “Get in the fucking truck,” Landon growls.

  “Not without…you.”

  I barely get the words out.

  I’m staring at his flexing abs, the impressive bulge of his crotch, desperate to pop open the single stressed button keeping his cock in his pants while the rain rushes down, slicking us both and then Landon puts both my wrists in one of his single powerful hands and leans inside the truck cab, forcing my head down with his chest, dragging me in with him and damn I wish I was wearing a skirt and no panties instead of jeans because my pussy would be right there for him, ready, and I get the feeling there’s no way he’d be able to resist—

  “Okay, okay,” Landon hisses, his perfect lips inches from mine. There’s an unfocused look in his eyes, his cheeks flushed with more than anger and suddenly I want to get out of this desert very badly, want to have this gorgeous man in my arms, feel his lips on mine, his weight pinning me down while his cock—

  “Okay what?”

  “You win. I’ll come with you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Quickly, before I can stop him, Landon leans down and kisses me hard on the lips. He tastes exquisite, but he’s using the kiss to overpower me, shut me up. I bite his lower lip and get a knee into his groin. He rakes his fingernails across my tits in retaliation and holy shit fingernails…it feels like he’s scratching me, the stinging pain across my ultra-sensitive, pebbled nipples making me gasp. My pussy’s soaked for him and all I want is these goddamned jeans off—

  I struggle against him, manage to tear my mouth free.

  “You fucking bastard,” I breathe, staring up at him. “Get off me.”

  Landon’s eyes are all pupil. A thin trickle of blood leaks down his chin from his cut lip. He flashes me a cocky smile. Doesn’t say a word, only reaches up and slips his hand beneath my tank-top, paws roughly at my right breast, wraps his thumb and forefinger around my nipple. I buck against him as he teases me, leans his loins against mine, grinds his hard cock against my tingling clit. My insides flood with electric pleasure.

  I lift my head to him. Open my mouth slightly. “You get everything you want?”

  Landon squeezes my wrist with one hand and runs his other down over my pussy. “Always.”

  His lips meet mine. He tastes delicious. Salty. Crisp. And there’s another layer, something beneath the purely physical. Landon Stone tastes of promise. Potential, and suddenly I want this man more than I’ve ever wanted anything—

  My entire body’s aching with need, but I force myself to break off our kiss. Look him in the eye. “Okay then. Get in the truck with me.”

  He’s about to say something when I see motion over his shoulder.

  “Look out!” I scream, too late.

  A crushing weight slams into Landon’s back.

  Foul breath fills the cab, then a burst of bloodthirsty snarls.

  Landon’s eyes widen and he release me, no, he’s torn from me and then the wolves have him, two on his back, their brutal jaws snapping at his shoulders and neck. Landon staggers away, punching at the wolves, blood flooding from his wounds as he stumbles to his knees, dragged down by the wolves’ weight.

  He’s screaming, but I can’t hear him.

  The world’s gone silent.

  I’m frozen, lying half in and half out of the Rover, the desire of only moments ago now an icy pit in my gut—

  A third wolf slams into Landon’s knee. His skin opens to reveal a shock of white bone. Landon’s face twists in agony. He falls to the ground and the wolves pile onto him, biting and snapping and I can’t hear anything except a maddening high-pitched keening, the sound of a mind driven over the edge with panic and horror.

  Landon’s on the ground now, his arms over his head, trying to protect his face and neck but its useless, the wolves are natural predators, hunters on a feed, they’re ripping into him, tossing him forward and back—

  The keening wail’s getting louder.

  I cover my hands with my ears, trying to block out the sound. My teeth are vibrating. The few unbroken windows in the Rover crack and shatter. The sound feels like it’s centered in my chest, my bones, like it’s tearing me apart—

  The wolf closest to me jerks his head up.

  Snarls. Takes a step to the side.

  Stares at me with something like fear. I’m swatting at the air, trying to sit up straight, trying to make the whistling-wailing noise stop—

  The wolf begins to convulse. It turns to run, falls, tries to stand, falls again and this time it stays down, but it raises its head at me, its piercing red eyes filled with hatred.

  Blood leaks from the corners of the wolf’s eyes and then like someone flicked a switch its head thumps to the sand and one by one the other wolves die, their
eyes bleeding as their brains crack and shatter like glass—

  Then the sound’s gone.

  Only rain pounding down and thunder echoing over the mountains.

  I slump out of the Rover and land on my knees.

  Lean to the side, almost have the strength to pull my hair back, retch, then fall face-first—

  ***

  I wake in the passenger seat of Landon’s Range Rover, curled in a tight ball. Opening my eyes a fraction, I see Landon driving. I slam my eyes closed before he notices I’m awake.

  I’m not ready to face him.

  My skin feels feverish. I’m sweating buckets, but I’m freezing. The Rover’s weird-ass electric engine isn’t making any noise, but I can tell we’re driving fast by how the wind’s rushing through the broken windshield and into the cab. That must be why I’m so cold. I’m soaked. Not to mention exhausted. But the thing that hurts the most?

  My goddamned broken pinkie. Thing must not be healing right—

  I can’t even remember…wolves?

  Blake’s jaws swollen with vicious teeth.

  Yeah. Shit’s getting weird. I lick my lips.

  Landon getting mauled.

  Wildwolves.

  Cautiously, not really wanting to know the answer to the question forming in my foggy mind, I look at Landon again. From the position I’m lying in it’s his legs and hips I see first. The compound fracture above his knee? I saw the wolf slam into him. Saw the bone split out of skin—

  No. There’s no bone. He’s…healed.

  Sure. Healed. In a few hours. Uh-huh.

  I’m right fucked up is all.

  Maybe I had a psychotic break.

  That’s it.

  I went out into the desert to confront whoever sent me those photos. Stressed as all hell. Landon was there. He was hurt somehow. Then…someone must’ve snuck up on me. Smoked me on the head with…a baseball bat or a lead pipe. Knocked me unconscious. All that shit about giant wolves and Landon and me and that high-pitched dog-whistle sound that seemed to be coming from my throat?

  Yeah. Dreamed all that.

  The thought’s very comforting.

  That’s why Landon’s healed.

  He wasn’t mauled in the first place.