Werewolf in Las Vegas

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Yeah, this was weird. The sound of male voices came closer, but not from either of the bathrooms or the kitchen, which would be logical if someone was messing around in here. The voices came from behind the wall at the end of the hallway.

  Although the conversation was muffled, Luke thought there were at least two guys, maybe three. Standing there waiting to see what happened might not be the wisest course of action since he was outnumbered. But after watching Giselle turn into a wolf and then downing a glass of Scotch, Luke was in a what-the-hell mood.

  If ghosts walked through that wall and came toward him—and at this point anything was possible—he would hightail it out of there. Even if he threw the bottle of Scotch, it wouldn’t stop a ghost.

  Whoever was behind that wall, they were about to run smack into it if they were real people. Then he heard a familiar accent. A familiar British accent. Mr. Thatcher?

  He thought the night couldn’t get any weirder until the wall started moving. While he stared, no doubt with his eyes bugging out of his head like a cartoon character, the wall swiveled, allowing three men to walk through the opening.

  “Yikes!” Bryce stopped short, and the two behind him, Mr. Thatcher and Benedict Cartwright, plowed into Bryce.

  For a moment, the hallway was silent except for the sound of everyone gulping for air.

  Luke found his voice first. “What in damnation is going on?”

  The three men looked at one another as if each hoped that one of the others would come up with a good story.

  Luke tried again. “Where did you come from? What’s behind that wall?”

  Bryce swallowed. “Well, it’s complicated.”

  Luke studied Bryce, whose coloring was very close to Giselle’s. Same basic genetics, which meant . . . He mentally slapped his forehead. She’d said that Bryce would support her story of being a werewolf.

  “Perhaps we should all sit down,” Mr. Thatcher said.

  “Not yet.” Luke focused on Bryce and decided to try some fishing. “I know about your sister, Landry.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Who told you?”

  “She did.”

  “When?”

  “About thirty minutes ago. And I figure, since you two are related . . .”

  “Where is she?”

  “Right here.”

  Luke turned to find Giselle standing behind him—the Giselle he’d first met, a long-legged, gorgeous redhead in jeans, boots, a sweater, and a leather jacket.

  “You didn’t lock the front door,” she said. “I had a hunch you might be in here.” She glanced at the bottle of Scotch. “Drowning your sorrows?”

  “No. Celebrating the fact that I finally know what’s going on with you.” He gestured at the three men standing at the end of the hall. “And I’ll take a wild guess that you’re all the same species.” He fixed his gaze on Mr. Thatcher. “Including my butler.”

  Giselle glanced at Bryce. “You suggested that I tell him, so I did. I even put on a demonstration, after which he ran out of the suite as if his tail was on fire.”

  “I did not.” Luke frowned. “It was a shock. I had to be alone for a little while.”

  Giselle held his gaze. “Alone except for a bottle of Scotch. That doesn’t reassure me as to your state of mind about all this.”

  He saw bravado in her green eyes, but it was hiding a layer of hurt. “I’m sorry. I should have stayed.”

  “Cut the guy some slack, Sis.” Bryce walked forward and hooked an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “Give him some time to get used to the idea. It’s not every day that a man finds out he’s in love with a werewolf.”

  A gasp of surprise made them all freeze.

  With a soft oath, Giselle whirled around as Cynthia walked toward them. “Where did you come from? I didn’t hear you!”

  “I was back in the corner, listening. I went up to the penthouse to tell Luke that Bryce was gone, and I took the fire stairs like I always do. I saw Luke charge into the elevator. He looked upset, so I followed him. When he came in here, I slipped in behind him. I was ready to say something, but then he grabbed the Scotch, which told me he wanted to be alone. I tucked myself into a corner, not sure what to do.” She paused for breath. “A werewolf, Giselle? Really?”

  Luke groaned. “It’s a joke.”

  “I seriously doubt that, big brother.” Cynthia crossed her arms. “And I’m not leaving, so you might as well fill me in.”

  “Nobody’s leaving.” Benedict Cartwright stepped forward for the first time. “We obviously have a major security breach.” He pulled out his phone. “I can have a Cartwright security team here in five minutes, or . . .” He paused to glance around the group. “We can all sit down, have a drink, and figure this out among ourselves.”

  “I choose Option Two,” Bryce said. “Anybody else want to voice an opinion?”

  “Definitely Option Two,” Luke said. “Don’t call anybody, Cartwright.” He glanced around at the assembled group. “Let’s have a seat in the bar. Drinks are on the house.”

  “And I’m mixing ’em,” Benedict said. “You may be a better poker player, but I’m a hell of a lot better at bartending.”

  Luke looked him in the eye. “That’s for sure, Cartwright. You belong here, and I don’t. I’m going to sell this place back to you. I finally figured out that was the only sensible thing to do, with a little help from my friends.”

  Benedict almost smiled at that. “It’s good to have friends.”

  • • •

  Giselle had held it together so far, and she was a pro at presenting a calm facade, but she couldn’t guarantee how long she could keep it up. She’d risked everything to reveal her Were being, and Luke had run out on her. Bryce had told her to give Luke some time to get used to the idea, but what if he never did?

  As everyone left the hallway, bound for a table in the bar, she stayed behind. So did he. He came toward her, and she tried to gauge his expression, but her darned eyes kept tearing up and she had to blink the moisture away.

  “Giselle.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Please forgive me for running out on you like that.”

  She sniffed. “It’s okay.” Close up, she could see from the look in his eyes he was sorry. “My brother’s right. It’s a shock to hear it, and I—”

  “So you do forgive me?”

  She nodded.

  “Thank God.” He cupped her face in both hands, touching her for the first time since he’d watched her shift. “Because I love you so much.” He brushed at her damp cheeks with his thumbs. “And I feel like an ass for hurting you and making you cry.”

  She swallowed. “You don’t have to say you love me to make me feel better. I’m not who you thought, or what you thought. If this doesn’t work for you, then I’ll—”

  He cut her off with a kiss, a tender kiss that she would cherish forever, no matter what happened.

  Then he lifted his head. “We have lots to talk about. I have lots to learn. But never doubt that I love you with all my heart.”

  She gazed into his eyes and knew that it was true. They would love each other forever. But that didn’t mean they’d be together forever. She sensed he was reserving judgment on that. She couldn’t blame him. He had no idea what he was getting into.

  “Let’s go in and have Cartwright mix us a drink.” With an encouraging smile, he laced his fingers through hers as they walked out of the hallway.

  He kept her hand tucked in his as they ordered drinks at the bar and walked over to the spot where the others had pushed a couple of tables together. He made sure they sat close together, and his firm grip reassured her that he wasn’t repulsed by what he’d seen when she shifted. He just needed to know more, which was fair.

  As they sat down, Cynthia was busy peppering Bryce with questions, questions Luke probably had, as well. But she knew
he’d have some personal ones that he wouldn’t ask in mixed company.

  In the meantime, Bryce was doing a bang-up job of correcting Cynthia’s misperceptions about werewolves, and possibly Luke’s as well.

  She leaned toward Bryce. “Can you see better than a human?”

  “Not during the day, but my wolf night vision is awesome.”

  Cynthia appeared transfixed by that notion. “Do you hunt?”

  “No. Yuck.”

  “Is that just your preference? Because I can sort of picture you—”

  “None of us hunt, at least not in modern times. Centuries ago, that might have made sense, but now it’s a lot less work to go to the store and buy the food.”

  “But you could hunt if you wanted to.”

  Bryce shook his head. “I’d be terrible at it. I’d have to be taught, and since nobody hunts anymore, the skill has died out.”

  “I’ll bet, if you were really hungry and—”

  “Hey, Sis, can we drop the subject?” Luke flicked a glance at Giselle. “She was a bloodthirsty little kid. Loved gory movies.”

  “Still do.” Cynthia laughed. “While you, on the other hand, are the biggest wimp on the planet. I’d look over at you and you’d be all hunched down and not watching.”

  Giselle smiled at him. “I’m the same way. Been teased about it all my life.”

  “A round of drinks, coming up!” Benedict appeared with six glasses on a tray and dispersed them before pulling up his own chair. “So, how’s the discussion progressing?”

  “Let’s see.” Bryce held up one hand and ticked off the subjects. “We’ve talked about the political structure of werewolf packs.”

  “And you’re going to be the Landry alpha, Bryce.” Cynthia picked up her cosmo. “That’s supercool.”

  “Ah,” Luke said. “So the alpha is the equivalent of a CEO.”

  “Bryce will be the CEO,” Giselle said. “And the alpha.”

  “Vaughn’s the alpha for the Cartwrights.” Cynthia glanced over at Luke. “Remember how we talked about the suspicious nature of the security at Illusions? You couldn’t get in the lobby because you’re not the right species. It’s a werewolf-only hotel.”

  Luke nodded. “It’s all beginning to make sense to me now. The Silver Crescent used to be a werewolf hotel, didn’t it?”

  “Yep.” Benedict sipped his drink. “You can’t imagine how long the renovations took.”

  “Thus the stalling on signing over the deed.” Luke sighed. “That paints your father in a whole new light.”

  “I’m a little worried about this security breach,” Benedict said, “but it’s kind of nice to be able to set the record straight. My dad made a mistake betting the Silver Crescent, but he wasn’t trying to drive your dad crazy. He had a Were community to protect.”

  “You don’t have to worry about the security breach,” Cynthia said. “You can trust Luke and me. Right, Luke?”

  “Yes.” He squeezed Giselle’s hand. “I’ll guard this secret with my life.”

  “Whoa.” Bryce looked impressed. “I like the sound of that, Dalton. I think you’ll be just fine.”

  “So will I.” Cynthia glanced around at the group. “I’m sitting with my new friend Bryce, my childhood friend Benedict, my second father Mr. Thatcher, and Giselle, the woman—or Were, whichever I’m supposed to say—my brother’s in love with. All of you are very important to me. I’ll do the protecting-with-my-life thing, too.”

  “That shouldn’t ever be necessary,” Benedict said. “But thanks. The council will be glad to hear it.”

  “Council?” Luke’s grip on Giselle’s hand tightened.

  “The Were Council,” she said. “They’ll have to review this situation and determine what’s the best course of action.”

  He looked at her, his gaze wary. “Meaning what?”

  “Depending on their evaluation of your trustworthiness, you might just be monitored for a brief time.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to worry about it,” Bryce said. “Giselle’s on the council.”

  “Besides that,” Cynthia said, “Bryce was telling me before, when you and Giselle were kissing in the hallway, that if you mate with her, you’ll be totally accepted. And once I pass the trustworthiness test, which I so totally will, then I’ll be accepted, too, because I’m your sister.” She smiled at them across the table. “See how this is all working out for the best?”

  Giselle stifled a groan. She’d just dealt with a brother who’d balked because he felt railroaded into a situation. She couldn’t imagine Luke being overjoyed about the corner he’d just discovered himself in either.

  Chapter 26

  Luke felt Giselle tense and he could guess why. She didn’t want him to feel manipulated into something before he even understood it. Most of all, she wouldn’t want him to think everyone was pushing him into a relationship that involved a lifetime commitment. That lack of choice was the very thing that had driven her brother to take a long Vegas vacation.

  But Luke didn’t feel manipulated, even though Cynthia had made it clear what she thought should happen. Instead he felt challenged, and in a good way. Giselle might have different DNA from his, but the more he thought about it, the more that fascinated him.

  As for the world she lived in, he understood it better than she might think. It was the world of commerce, the world he’d grown up in and been trained for. The Cartwrights and the Landrys might each be a werewolf pack, but they were business oriented and apparently successful at it. No wonder his father and Harrison had become friends. Except for the werewolf thing, they had led similar lives.

  He was beginning to see a grand new adventure spreading out before him, and that was exciting. If he could share that adventure with Giselle, the most fascinating female he’d ever known, he would be a happy man. Being accepted into her circle sounded great to him. He wasn’t clear on what the deal would be with kids in that scenario, but she’d said she couldn’t get pregnant, so that might not be an issue.

  So far, though, nobody had bothered to explain a more immediate mystery, so he decided to ask the obvious question. “What were you three werewolves doing behind that revolving door?”

  Benedict grinned. “I wondered when you’d get around to that.”

  “Well, I just did. Care to explain? Especially since I still own this bar, and that means I own the revolving door and probably whatever’s behind it.”

  “I’d be happy to tell you,” Benedict said. “In fact, this is going to make my life a whole lot easier.”

  Luke gestured across the table. “Proceed.”

  Benedict launched into an explanation that sounded almost as unbelievable as the existence of werewolves. Luke found himself glancing down at the floor. Beneath his feet was something he never would have imagined in a million years.

  Cynthia’s eyes widened. “All that stuff is underground? And no one knows?”

  “The werewolves know,” Benedict said.

  “I can’t believe the secret hasn’t gotten out.” Luke continued to wrestle with the concept. “Somebody hears a rumor and somehow gets past security to check it out. In human form, everybody looks the same.”

  “Yes, but they don’t smell the same,” Giselle said. “I knew the minute Mr. Thatcher walked into your suite that he was Were. And vice versa.”

  “So a human wouldn’t pass the sniff test? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Benedict nodded. “That’s the time-honored way we tell Weres from humans. Because you’re right. Any human walking in here right now wouldn’t have any idea we’re from a different species.”

  “Well, obviously, I want to see this place.” Luke finished his drink. “Shall we go?”

  “Me, too!” Cynthia swigged the last of her cosmo. “I wish I could see it all working, though, with the stream and the waterfalls in operation, an
d the forest sounds, and the moon. I think the moon is genius, considering the name of the bar.”

  Bryce looked over at Benedict. “Can you see any reason not to turn on the water? We fixed that small leak. It would be good to test the system, though, and make sure everything’s working right if the playground will open again soon.”

  Benedict’s gaze registered approval. “Good thinking, Landry. And for the record, I appreciate your help and friendship over the past few days.”

  “Glad to be of service.”

  “How about turning on the lights and sound system?” Cynthia asked. “I’d love to get the full effect.”

  Bryce turned toward Luke. “It’ll run up your utility bill, man. And you’re the one on the hook for that until you sell the Moon to this dude.” He angled his head toward Benedict.

  “What the hell.” Luke shrugged. “My little sister wants to see the show.” He glanced over at Giselle and smiled. “So do I, come to think of it.”

  Cynthia left her chair and came over to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Bro.”

  “The controls are in the locker room,” Benedict said. “Follow me.”

  “I want to see how you activate everything,” Bryce said.

  Cynthia headed off right behind them. “I knew you two were cool, but I had no idea how cool.”

  Luke caught Giselle gazing after Cynthia with a flicker of concern in her eyes. He shared that concern. Cynthia might think this werewolf stuff was fascinating and cool, but knowledge of it would have a cost. He wanted to know what that was.

  He looked over at Mr. Thatcher, who was finishing his gin and tonic. “We need to talk.”

  Cynthia popped back in the room. “Aren’t you all coming? I thought you wanted to see this, Luke.”

  “I do. You go ahead and get things started. I’ll wait here with Mr. Thatcher until you say it’s ready for viewing.”

  “Same here,” Giselle said. “Come and get us when it’s all at its spectacular best.”

  “Don’t worry.” Cynthia flashed them a smile. “I will!”