What Happens in Vegas…After Dark

by Jodi Lynn Copeland, Anya Bast, Lauren Dane

  “I know it’s hard, but the activation of the fae in your blood should be making it easier.”

  “It is. It’s helping me accept this as reality, I guess.”

  “That’s good.”

  Damian gave her puppy-dog eyes. “So when do I get magic of my very own?”

  She laughed. “It’s…baking…inside you right now. I guess that’s a good analogy. It will come slowly, so don’t push it. It’s good it happens that way because you need to learn how to use it slowly. Do you think you will come to live here?”

  Surprise jolted through his veins. “Here? As in behind one of the doors off this corridor? Can I?”

  “Of course you can. The first thing I did after I inducted you was dedicate a door for you. You’ll have your own apartment in faery, but there are common areas, too, where we all congregate.”

  He had no response. Live here? Wow. Damian had to admit that the concept was an attractive one. He’d be near Elena and that would be great, but he also craved contact with others of his kind. As odd as it was, Damian felt a bit like he’d come home.

  A round peg in the square hole no longer.

  He’d found the right size hole and oddly enough, it was in faery.

  “So I’d have a little pocket of reality of my very own right here.” He frowned. “But if my magic is still baking, what would my pocket look like?”

  “Probably not much different than your current apartment. The space will pull it from your subconscious, but once your magic gets stronger you’ll be able to shape it any way you like.”

  “Okay, what the hell.”

  “We can go now and look at it, if you like.”

  Damian snuggled against her and sighed. “No way. I want to stay right where I am. I know what my apartment looks like already.”

  She smiled and kissed him. “Want to see if you’ve got any magic yet?” Elena actually sounded excited.

  “You mean check the cake in the oven?”

  She laughed and took his hand in hers. “Concentrate on the center of your palm, but look past it. You know those pictures they have at the mall that look abstract until you unfocus your eyes, revealing an image? That’s a little like how you call magic. You should know how to do it instinctively.”

  Damian focused on his palm and yet…didn’t. Letting his mind relax, he allowed his awareness to float somewhere that was neither here nor there. His palm tingled. He jerked and stared at a small whitish-blue whirl of something in his hand. It was gone as soon as glimpsed it. “Hey, was that—”

  “It was!” Elena said excitedly. “You curled a bit of magic into your hand. Looks to me like you’ll be heavily psychic. Psychic abilities are blue and white. Do you have any of those kinds of skills already?”

  Damian thought back to numerous incidents in his life, culminating in the episode in front of the White Wishes Chapel. “Yeah, I have.”

  She kissed him. “I’m so happy for you. You’ve finally found your true self.”

  Yes, he had.

  “So, how old are you, Elena? Don’t fae, you know, live to be really old?”

  “Yes, that’s another thing. We are essentially immortal. Your aging will slow now to an incredible degree. Our average lifespan is five hundred and fifty years.”

  Holy shit.

  He arched a brow. “Are you avoiding my question, Elena? How old are you?”

  “I’m eighty-five.”

  Okay, he was not going to let that freak him out.

  “You look damn good for a senior citizen.” He rolled her under his body and kissed her all over until she was breathless with laughter.

  Once they’d settled back down again, Elena nuzzled his throat and asked, “Tell me a little bit about yourself, Damian. About your family and where you grew up.”

  “There’s not much exciting to tell.” He shrugged and pulled her closer.

  She inserted a long, slim leg between his thighs and his breath shuddered out in a sigh. He wanted her again. He’d just had her twice, but he wanted her, impossibly, a third time. Did the fae have some sort of natural Viagra coursing through their veins? He couldn’t remember being this horny in…well, ever.

  “That’s okay. Tell me anyway.”

  “It’ll put you to sleep. I come from a regular, middle-class family. My mom’s a stay-at-home who just never went back to work once the kids were in school. My dad’s an electrician. My sister is a complete nerd who’s now working on her graduate degree in English literature.” He rubbed his palm down her arm. “If you want to come over on Wednesday evening, my mom makes meat loaf. There’s nothing even remotely exotic or otherworldly about my bloodline as far as I can tell.”

  “Only because your parents were missed, lost fae we call them. I bet they’ve gone their whole lives not quite fitting in, thinking there was something missing from their lives.”

  Damian shook his head slowly. He just couldn’t imagine his good-natured, beer-swilling father or his cross-stitching, meat-loaf-making mother as anything more than they appeared.

  “So my sister is fae, too,” he said suddenly. That would make a little bit of sense. She’d always been fascinated with Irish and Welsh history, especially the ancient legends.

  Elena smiled. “She is, but she’s not ready yet. It will be a couple years before it’s time for us to induct her.”

  “It sounds like I’ve joined a cult.”

  She laughed. “The culture of the fae is quite different, but in time you’ll come to see that on your own. As far as your sister goes, her induction will be easier since you’ll have already gone through it and will be there to guide her.”

  “Are you kidding? She’ll love it. It will be a dream come true for her.”

  “Good. That’s excellent news. It makes my job easier when they’re like that.”

  “Do you do this often? I mean, induct people? I thought you were a princess. I didn’t think they had to work.”

  She rolled onto her stomach with a laugh and a soft sigh. Studying the blue-and-green silk pillowcase, she took a moment to answer. “I choose to do what I do. Because of who my parents are, I don’t get to choose very often. When I have an opportunity, I take it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She sighed. “I come from the purest line of fae there is. We have no human blood in it at all, not a drop. I have five brothers and sisters. I’m the oldest. We’re all expected to behave a certain way, do certain things. All of us are encouraged to be well educated, but not to work. We’re expected to marry the right person and have a ton of kids in order to ensure the bloodline. We’re told to wear certain clothing, eat certain things, befriend certain people. I had to fight to do the job I do here at Darkness. I’ve fought long and hard for everything that’s mine.” She laughed. “I know, poor little rich girl, right?”

  “No, that’s not what I was thinking.” He kissed her shoulder. “There are things in life more important than money. Freedom is definitely one of them. It sounds so…feudal.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Next you’re going to tell me you have arranged marriages.”

  Elena looked away.

  He stopped rubbing her shoulder and sat up. “Are you serious?”

  She pushed up, holding the sheet up to cover her beautiful breasts. “In fact…I’m engaged, Damian.”

  Damian went motionless, mute. Then the numbness faded and shock rippled through his body. “What? That can’t be.”

  It couldn’t be because Elena was as close to a soul mate as he had ever met. It was…magical…this attraction and emotion between them. It simply wasn’t possible that she be meant for anyone other than him.

  Then anger set in. Funny that he, of all men, on this day, should feel betrayed by a woman. “If you’re engaged, why are you here in bed with me, Elena?” His voice came out a low, angry whisper.

  “You have to understand our culture is very different, Damian. I’m here because I can be, up until my marriage and also because…I like you. A lot.” She buried her face in her hand
s. “I’ve met my fiancé once. Trust me when I say it’s not going to be a happy marriage.” She lowered her hands and looked at him. “You never would have come to bed with me if I’d told you I was engaged.”

  Damian threw the sheet and blankets back and stood. “Yeah, you’re right about that, Elena. I wouldn’t have. Now, not only have I dumped my own fiancée at the altar on our wedding day, I’ve been fucking someone else’s.” He angrily pulled on his clothes.

  “Damian, please don’t go. It’s true that there can be nothing but sex between us, but at least let’s have that.”

  He rounded on her. “You want to use me for sex?” Why did it bother him that a beautiful woman like Elena wanted to hire him out for a while as a stud? Normally that would not have pricked his conscience. He searched his emotions…. Oh, yeah, because he’d actually felt something for Elena.

  Apparently the reverse wasn’t true.

  “I want us to take what we can get.” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

  She looked lovely on the bed that way, so anguished. It took all his willpower not to go to her, push her back onto the mattress and make slow, sweet love to her. Damn the consequences or his bruised ego.

  “Damn it, Elena.” He looked from her to the door. “You’re different to me than other women.”

  “You’re different to me, too. I knew it the first time I met you.”

  “Great. That makes this suck all the more.”

  He turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

  Chapter Six

  Elena stared out the window of her father’s mansion. It was located in the heart of Darkness, in one of the many pockets of alternate dimension that had been built into the lower part of the structure. All one had to do in Darkness was open a door and step through to find oneself in a different part of faery.

  This was the king’s world. Her father, Theron Albert Evan’s little pocket of reality.

  When you stepped through his doorway (tenth on the right once you reached the bottom of the stairs), you found yourself in a rolling green landscape that stretched for miles. Blue sky dominated most of the time, unless her father was angry or depressed and he wanted the weather to match. When there were storm clouds on the horizon, it was best to turn and go back the way you came. Today her father was calm and happy. Birds twittered in the trees and a gentle, perfect breeze rustled the leaf-laden branches. A gravel-strewn path led to a mansion enclosed by a tall black iron fence.

  Two of her younger siblings still lived in Father’s house. By cultural law they were all supposed to live there until the day of their marriage, but as the eldest Elena had fought for her freedom and won. Since she’d successfully convinced her father that his children should have a certain amount of world experience, her brothers and sisters were now allowed to strike off on their own once they became of legal age, too. She was a family pioneer.

  “So you’re telling me that you and this common fae, Damian Porter, share a relationship resonance? You found a heartstring?” Her father turned from the tall window in his library, brushing the swank golden draperies.

  His expression was stern, severe. Everything about her father was that way.

  She finished chewing the bite of pastry in her mouth and set the rest of the sugary confection on her plate. The food in faery was delicious, but only edible to the fae. It would taste like ambrosia to any human who came here and also act like poison. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

  Elena had known she needed to tell her father about the resonance, or he’d find out himself the first time he saw her and Damian together. A strong heartstring like she and Damian shared was palpable to all fae onlookers.

  Damian had returned to Darkness not long after their night together. It had been inevitable he would. Once inducted, the urge to be with his kind became irresistible. Since Damian had taken his rightful place in Darkness’s underground, there was no way her father would not eventually encounter them together. It was better she revealed the truth beforehand so he could prepare himself.

  “I hope you don’t think this will change my decision about your marriage to Reynolds.”

  A weight settled in the center of her chest. Maybe she had, a little. She sighed and lifted her weary gaze to her father’s uncompromising visage. “Of course not.”

  “Finding this heartstring now will only serve to make your impending nuptials harder on you. It’s a pity, really.” Her father turned, walking to a sideboard filled with food that had been placed out for her visit. Her father adored food and his waistline showed it. “Damn bad luck, I think.” His voice was just a mutter. “Go your whole life never meeting a heartstring, then you find one right before your marriage.”

  Yes, it was bad luck. Her father was right. A part of her wished she’d never taken that induction assignment to begin with. Before she’d met Damian, she’d been resigned to settle with someone she didn’t love for the sake of her family’s honor. Accepting of it even though she hadn’t wanted it. Having met Damian, she still had to marry Reynolds, but it would be much harder to find happiness now that she knew her heartstring was out there.

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” she murmured.

  “The wedding is in a week. Are all the preparations in order?”

  Her father had spared no expense, of course. She’d had a wedding planner and a budget that stretched into the stratosphere. It would have been great if she’d wanted it all…or the groom, for that matter.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “The planner assures me all is ready.” Elena had had little do with it. She’d laid down some basic ground rules—no puce, no peonies and no peppermint anything. Other than that she’d let the planner pretty much do whatever she’d wanted. Elena hardly cared and her mother didn’t seem all that interested, either.

  Elena’s mother was busy most of the time playing bridge or corralling her youngest children. Her goal seemed to be to avoid her husband at all cost. Elena’s parents’ marriage was arranged and highly loveless.

  Reynolds was a corporate attorney in the non-fae world. He lived in New York, where she would soon be relocating. Some of the truest, purest fae blood ran through his veins. Elena had been promised to Reynolds since she’d been five years old. She’d only met him once, though, at the betrothal party. He was okay. They’d had a nice conversation, but honestly, if she had her druthers she wouldn’t care if she ever saw him again or not.

  He hadn’t seemed all that interested in marrying her, either, not on a personal level. But hell, she was a princess after all. Reynolds knew he would get the title of prince by marrying her and Elena knew that interested him. Marrying her would add to his prestige and his reputation in the fae world. It would also make his children heirs to the throne. What wasn’t there to like?

  She stood to leave, her obligation to her father fulfilled satisfactorily. “Well, I have a full schedule this afternoon.”

  “Your…job, no doubt?”

  Her father hated that she worked. He considered her efforts at inducting common fae a waste of time and energy. “Yes. We have information there may be someone with the genes just west of the city. I have research to do.” She walked to the door and turned.

  The king’s lip curled. “Yes, well, Reynolds will be arriving tomorrow morning, I am told, in anticipation of the nuptials. I hope you will take time from your…work to spend time with him.”

  Elena blinked. “Why would I want to do that? We’ll be spending eternity together after the wedding. I see no reason to get a jump on things.”

  That evening, when she returned to her apartment, Damian was outside her door flipping a coin into the air. When the coin reached a certain height, it disappeared, then reappeared on its way down. Apparently he’d been practicing with his magic. He leaned against the wall, one leg bent, focused on the trick. He was so attentive that he didn’t notice her approach, which meant she could drink her fill of him with Damian unawares.

  He was a powerfully attractive man. His body was long and
lean, muscular, but not in the overdone way of a bodybuilder. Damian’s build was powerful without being overpowering. His dark hair fell across his brow in an attractive way, framing a face that wasn’t quite as handsome as it was interesting.

  Reynolds was good-looking in a pure-blood fae, corporate lawyer way. Damian was attractive in a dangerous alley-dwelling stray-cat kind of way.

  Elena really had a soft spot for stray cats.

  “I thought you weren’t going to darken my doorstep ever again,” she said as she approached him.

  He lost control of the coin and it fell to the carpeted corridor floor. “I couldn’t stay away.”

  She walked to within a breath’s space of him, paused, and then smiled. “I’m glad.”

  “Anyway, I live here now.” He pointed down the corridor. “Twentieth door on the right. I figured we’d run into each other eventually.”

  “I’d love to see your place.”

  He pushed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I’m still trying to get a handle on this interdimensional magic stuff. It’s not very nice yet.” He smiled with chagrin. “And it flickers occasionally.”

  She laughed. “It takes a while to get the hang of it. Your magic has to—”

  “Bake a little more. Yeah, I get that.”

  The pockets allotted to those who lived under Darkness were shaped by the owner’s magic. It wasn’t illusion, but in fact reality created and formed by the owner’s will and desire. The stronger the owner’s magic meant the grander the space.

  She unlocked her door. “Want to come in?”

  “I was hoping for an invite, yeah.”

  Elena opened the door and he trailed her inside. The lights flickered on as soon as she entered and a fire poofed to life in the hearth. She threw her keys into the bowl on the table near the door and kicked off her shoes. It was good to be home and it felt perfect that Damian was here with her.

  She watched him wander to her pottery again. He picked up a piece and studied it.

  “I make it,” she said, walking to him. “I have a pottery room here in my apartment. I even have a kiln. It’s kind of a…hobby.” She only wished it could be more.