Games Demons Play (Mystic Isle, Book 3)

by Selena Blake

  “I am okay without it. Thank you, Coco.”

  She was about to greet Grayson when she felt a warm hand close over her shoulder. Her body took note of dozens of tiny details in a fraction of a second and immediately recognized her lover.

  “Hey, sweetheart —”

  His words were cut short as Grayson launched himself at Shade’s chest. “Hands off the lady —”

  Izzy spun, saw Shade shove Grayson back, and felt the tension in the air thicken to quicksand consistency as the two held each other by the throat.

  “Grayson!” Izzy rushed between them. For once her tiny stature gave her an advantage. She placed a hand in the center of their chests and pushed. “He is my lover,” she said under her breath, staring up at the gray-eyed werewolf.

  “Friend of yours?” Shade asked dryly, backing away and straightening his shirt.

  It took Grayson a second longer to compose himself. She watched him give Shade a thorough once-over before his gaze dropped to hers. “Sorry, Iz.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “It is all right.”

  Months ago, when they’d first come to Mystic Isle, Grayson’s friend had gotten handsy and would not take no for an answer. Before she and Coco had had a chance to protect themselves, Grayson had taken his friend to the mat.

  Protective to the core, that’s what Coco said about werewolves, Grayson in particular.

  Izzy was starting to believe it. Which made her wonder why that wolf had attacked her in Paris? The wolves and vamps were no longer at war. Attacking a defenseless human went against everything she knew to be true about werewolves like Grayson and Maxim.

  “Everything all right here?”

  Izzy recognized the sound of Charles Latham’s voice and turned to see the god striding up. She noticed how quiet it was in the hallway and instantly thought of the strict policy against violence. For an instant she worried that he’d throw them all off the island. And then how would she make the kind of money she needed to buy Valencia a new car?

  “You guys again, huh?”

  She admired his golden good looks as she stepped toward him. He was tall and lean and wore a suit very well. She could see his appeal and understood why women flocked to the island. But as far as she knew he wasn’t involved with anyone.

  “It was my fault. Again. Grayson did not know Shade and I are involved. He was looking out for me.” It felt good to be able to tell the god the truth this time. All those months ago, she’d been so furious with Grayson’s “friend,” so overwhelmed that she had tucked tail and run.

  Latham’s blue eyes twinkled as he looked their little group over. The regular background noise of talk, laughter and music that she’d come to associate with Mystic Isle picked back up and she felt a little less like a fish in a bowl. Although, when the god’s eye zeroed in on her again, she felt like he could see every thought in her mind, every sin she had ever committed.

  It didn’t help that he smiled as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “I believe these belong to you.” He held out a clear acrylic box containing her chips.

  It took considerable effort not to pounce. She had gotten so distracted with Shade and secrets and friends that chips, poker, and winning money had slipped her mind.

  “Thank you.” Nibbling her lower lip, she took the container and held it close.

  “I hope you’re feeling better, Ms. Lukin.”

  She nodded up at the god, a little speechless. How had he known?

  “Why weren’t you feeling well?” Coco asked, slipping an arm through Izzy’s.

  Izzy did not want to get into it. It was embarrassing enough to fall asleep at a bar, much less rehash it to her closest friend.

  “If you’ll excuse us, Latham, we’re on a bit of a deadline,” Shade said. The god nodded and turned away. Izzy felt thoroughly excused, but Shade was right. They were on a deadline.

  Without asking permission, Shade took the box and reorganized the chips. “You’re two thousand short,” he murmured.

  Was it possible for vamps to have heartburn? Izzy was sure the pain in her chest was heartburn.

  She had done well so far. In the scheme of things, two thousand was not much. Not compared to what she had already won. Not compared to what she needed to win. But it meant sitting at a blackjack table and praying for two more lucky hands. Because the alternative was go home empty-handed and face Valencia’s wrath.

  For a brief moment the image of Valencia’s porcelain doll features contorting into rage filled her mind’s eye. Snarling red lips, depthless midnight-blue eyes, pinched brows. And that didn’t even include audio.

  Feeling flushed, Izzy nodded up at Shade. It was time to forget quickies and get serious.

  “Izzy?” Coco sounded worried.

  “It was nothing.” She started for the casino.

  “She’s not drinking enough,” Shade scolded, bringing up the rear with Grayson.

  She shot him a look over his shoulder. “You have fixed the issue. On to new problems.” Like that last two thousand.

  Two more gold and green chips with the Mystic Isle logo and she would have her seat in the tournament.

  “This is Shade, by the way. Shade, Coco.”

  Coco turned and shook Shade’s hand. “The best friend,” Coco said with a wide smile.

  “And your sparring partner is her mate, Grayson.” She saw the two men shake hands from the corner of her eye.

  With the introductions made, she continued on. Her three-hour deadline felt closer to two and a half now. Maybe less. Nothing like waiting until the last minute, Izzy.

  “So you and Shade, huh?” Coco whispered in Izzy’s ear.

  “It just happened,” Izzy whispered back.

  “You didn’t tell me he was on the island.”

  “I did not know at the time we talked. He showed up after.”

  “In the nick of time, if you asked me. Don’t tell Grayson, but good job, girl.”

  Izzy paused mid-step. “It is not like that,” she whispered, eying the man she had spent the night tangled up with. “Shade is… Different. Special.”

  “Special?”

  They stepped around a wayward couple who wasn’t paying attention to where they were walking. “Yes. He takes care of me.”

  “I think he’s not the only one who’s different. You seem different too. You’re glowing. I should thank him.”

  Izzy tightened her arm on Coco’s. “Do not.”

  Coco snickered. “I can give you the last two thousand. Let’s go hang out until the tournament starts.”

  Izzy shook her head. “I am close,” she murmured as they entered the casino.

  “Why must you be so stubborn?”

  “I was made this way?” Izzy replied and gave her best impish smile.

  Coco laughed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. You go win your money. We’ll be around.”

  “You will be humping like rabbits,” Izzy surmised.

  “Izzy!” Coco hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else had heard.

  “It is da truth.” And no one on Mystic Isle would be shocked. They could strip down and do it in the middle of the casino and no one would care. Many would probably enjoy the show.

  Izzy turned to ask Shade for her chips and found him twirling one between his fingers. The movement was so smooth, so unconscious that truth sank in. He really was as good as he said he was. He knew his way around a poker chip.

  As if feeling her gaze upon him, he paused in mid-sentence and diverted his attention from Grayson. Then he smiled. She felt warm all over.

  He excused himself from and stepped toward her. “Izzy, sweetheart, I have a proposal.”

  “A proposal?”

  He held the chip up. “You accompany me to that roulette table over there.” He pointed across the room with two fingers, the chip locked between them. “I bet this chip and if I win I get a kiss. If I lose, I’ll give you the money to enter the tournament. Then we can all go enjoy a drink.”


  “I’m in,” Grayson said, patting Shade on the back.

  “Win-win,” Coco added.

  Izzy sighed. He was so sure of himself. While a part of her, a small part, was annoyed that everyone was trying to win her battles for her, especially since it was her own fault that she was in this situation, the other part found him charming. Irresistible, really.

  He ducked his head, studying her, watching her through thick, dark lashes.

  “Fine.”

  “Excellent.” He tossed the coin into the air and caught it easily. Grinning as if he had just won the whole tournament, he escorted her across the casino.

  She watched, heart in her throat, as he placed the thousand-dollar chip on the felt inside a box marked one to twelve. Coco and Grayson stood off to the side; her friend gave her a thumbs-up. With a flick of his wrist, the dealer let the little silver ball fly.

  This was not poker. Not a game of numbers and skill. He’d bet it all on one set of numbers. She didn’t know enough about roulette to know if he was smart or crazy. It made her queasy.

  “I cannot watch,” Izzy said and covered her eyes with her hand. Her other senses heightened. The low din of discussion, the dull ding-ding-ding of the slot machines, clothes shifting, the collective gasp of—

  “Hold out your hand,” Shade whispered.

  Her eyelids popped open and she did as he requested. He placed three green and gold chips on her palm. Three thousand… her entry. She stared at them a few more seconds, counting one more time, then lifted her gaze to his. “You are the luckiest person I ever met.”

  He gave her a tender smile. “I sure am.” Then he kissed her.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’ve never seen anything like that. What’s his story?” Coco said as soon as they were settled into adjoining patio chairs in Club Daylight, the vampire lounge. Bright lights and clever paintings almost made Izzy feel like she was outside again.

  “It’s the heat lamps,” Coco said when she saw Izzy looking up at the ceiling. “Almost feels real, doesn’t it?”

  Izzy nodded.

  “So. About Shade and his bag of tricks…”

  Izzy glanced over at the bar where the men were getting drinks. “He says he never loses.”

  “Wow. Like never ever or never as in it’s been a long time.”

  “Never ever.”

  Coco’s eyebrows lifted.

  That’s what Izzy had thought when Shade had told her. Never ever lose… wasn’t that impossible? But then, she’d seen the proof of his luck with her own eyes.

  “How did you know Grayson was the one?”

  Coco looked over at her mate and everything about her softened: her gaze, her smile, even, it seemed her breathing. “I knew it when I was willing to risk everything on him.”

  Izzy knew Coco included their friendship in that pot of everything. While Coco had initially hidden her relationship, Izzy now understood why. There was something nice about being in a private relationship. Just the two of you. And your secrets.

  “I’m glad you took a chance. He makes you happy. And you make him happy.”

  “That’s what I want for you, Iz. This feeling. Being able to look at a man and trust him completely. To be happy.”

  Did she trust Shade completely? Where her human boyfriend had run away at the first sign of adversity, she knew deep down Shade would be calm in the face of danger. He didn’t shy away from helping those in need. She doubted he’d even hesitated to pull over when she’d crashed. And he had cared for her since. “So that is what love feels like? Trusting? Happiness?”

  Coco smiled, and then laughed softly. “You’ll know it when you feel it. Like you can’t stand the thought of living without him. Like you don’t want to miss a single day of his life because then you’ll miss hearing his voice, smelling his aftershave, having him make you laugh. You’ll crave his touch every minute and think about him constantly.”

  She did think of Shade constantly. Even when she should have been concentrating on winning enough money to enter the tournament.

  Luckily all that was over now. She was entered. Now she just couldn’t screw up. She just prayed that she would not have to go up against Shade until the final hand. Because if she did, she was done for.

  Shade brought her a goblet. “You ladies enjoy your girl talk. Grayson and I are going to shoot some pool.” He bent down and brushed his lips across hers.

  “Does your winning prowess extend to pool?” she murmured, hand against his chest.

  Coco was right. It was nice to be a part of a couple.

  “I’ll try not to whoop him too badly. But he did try to choke me.” Shade held a hand against his throat and grinned down at her.

  “Boys.”

  “You said it, sister,” Coco said once the guys were across the room.

  “Valencia will know I wrecked Gorgeous.” Izzy sipped her cocktail and stared over at her friend.

  “It’d be hard to hide, sweetie. Serial numbers. And what if you can’t get a car exactly like Gorgeous? They’re pretty rare.”

  “Believe me, I know. They sell less than a hundred of them per year. Sometimes less than twenty. Finding a twin of Gorgeous—”

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky—”

  “The only way I’ll get lucky is if Valencia forgives me.”

  “I’m sure she will. I know she seems reserved sometimes—”

  “Moody,” Izzy cut in.

  “But underneath that, she has a warm heart. She saved you, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, and then I betrayed her.”

  “You wrecked a car. A replaceable object.”

  “Replaceable? Do you know how perfect that machine is?” Izzy listed the car’s virtues until Coco’s eyebrows met her hairline.

  “Well, you didn’t do it on purpose, chéri. And that’s what counts.”

  Izzy sighed and nodded. Coco was right about that much.

  “You’re lucky Shade was there to rescue you. You could have been fried-vamp.”

  “I know.” Boy did she know. She worried her lower lip and glanced back over at her lover. His head was thrown back, laughing at something. Grayson grinned. What were they talking about? “What do you think of him? Shade?”

  “He seems kind and considerate, which is more than I can say for most demons. And I can tell that he’s thoroughly enamored with you.”

  “Enamored?” Izzy asked.

  “He’s into you. He likes you. His gaze follows you wherever you go and he gets this slight smile on his face while he stares at you. When he was waiting for the ball to drop into a slot at the roulette table, he wasn’t watching the ball, Izzy. He was watching you.”

  Coco’s words melted something inside Izzy. A part that craved romance and fairy tales and happily ever after. That part of her had been frozen since Paris, two and a half years ago.

  “When I was a little girl, I used to lay awake at night. Usually under mother’s orders to think about what I’d done.”

  “What you’d done?”

  Izzy nodded and took a long sip of her cocktail. “One time I got a, what do you call, wild hair?”

  Coco nodded.

  “I decided to go riding one afternoon after my nanny told me not to. She said a storm was coming. I did not listen. I wanted to see things, feel the sunshine and the wind. The storm came quickly. Wind blew over a tree, spooking my pony. He got injured. He was lame after that. If I had listened, he would not have gotten injured.”

  “Chérie, you were just a little girl. Little kids don’t listen to reason. They don’t take stock of the consequences. You only learn to do that as you mature.”

  Izzy shrugged. “For me, it wasn’t about consequences. It was… this feeling. This overwhelming feeling. Like I was drawn against my will. I knew there was danger, but I could not resist. I was helpless. I feel that way often. I felt it the night I took Gorgeous out of the garage. Like I just had to do it. I had to see where the road led.”

  “I’ve felt that way before. The n
ight Grayson and I met. I wasn’t even supposed to be in that part of the woods. But I went anyway. It’s like I was searching for something. At the time, I chalked it up to looking for the enemy.”

  “But you found Grayson instead.”

  Coco nodded.

  “So you think I’m searching for something?” Her gaze drifted back to Shade. He had his back to her and was stretched over the pool table. Could there be a higher power at work? Something causing her to do crazy things that she knew she shouldn’t do? Was she searching for something? An adrenaline rush, perhaps.

  Or maybe she was searching for someone.

  “Earth to Izzy.”

  Blinking, she turned her head toward Coco.

  “Finish your story.”

  She traced back to where she’d left off. “So I’d lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. My mother had it painted when I was born. It was very ornate. Like the chapel… in Italy.”

  “The Sistine Chapel?” Coco asked, surprise coloring her voice.

  “Yes. Flowers and clouds. So mother would send me to bed and I’d lie there, looking at that painting, dreaming of fairy tales. And I was usually mad at mother of course, because she reprimanded me. Or the nanny told me how disappointed she was and that young ladies did not act in such a way. And I would wish a prince would come rescue me. That I could belong in my own fairy tale. But that night, as I lay in the alley, the pain numbed everything but the knowledge that I had once again given into impulse and this time it would cost me my fairy tale. My prince. My happily ever after. And even though I was bleeding and scared of death and angry at the hideous beast who had done that to me, I gave up on fairy tales and happily ever after and prince charming and the idea that a man would rescue me.”

  “Instead, Valencia rescued you.”

  Izzy nodded.

  “And you gave up fairy tales for good.”

  “Fairy tales are not real, Coco. No one gets raped and left for dead in Cinderella.”

  Coco sighed. “You haven’t read the original version. One of Cinderella’s sisters cut off her toe so the slipper would fit.”

  Izzy’s eyebrows jumped up and she slumped in her seat. She had never heard that version of the story. That was gory all right. In fact, she felt a little sick. Cut off your toe, for a man? And not even a man she loved. Just a prince. A prince the wicked step-sister had not loved.