Ante Up: A Sin City Collectors Novella

by Amanda Carlson

  ANTE UP

  A Sin City Collectors Novella

  Amanda Carlson

  Welcome to Vegas. Home of the Sin City Collectors. The job description is easy: Bring the offending supernatural in to the Boss and don’t ask any questions.

  Diesel Jones is a shifter with moon issues. Not the best combination to have. His dream of becoming a Sin City Collector had always lingered in the shadows because of his inability to control himself under a full moon. When Louie Fiore decides to test his merit, and gives him a job for the agency, Diesel jumps at the chance. But when he finds out he has to come up against an incubus, painful issues from the past resurface, and instead of bringing the sex demon in, he only has one thing on his mind—kill.

  Sofia Cabrera is the new witch in town, and she’s more than anyone bargained for. She finds herself drawn to Diesel, the sexy shifter, the first moment she lays eyes on him. When she becomes the target of an organization of incubi, who take what they want without asking, Diesel comes to her aid unexpectedly. They end up fighting the threat together, and in the process, Sofia discovers she—and she alone—can tame his rages.

  “This fun, fresh series ups the ante and takes you on a wild ride you won’t forget! Clever, fast-paced, flirty—Viva Las Vegas!”

  ~ Gena Showalter, NYT Best Selling Author

  What’s Collected in Vegas, stays in Vegas…

  *All Sin City Collectors Novellas are stand alone paranormal romance novellas, each with their own set of characters and happy endings, and are all set within the world of the SCC. Our goal is for you to sit back and enjoy the ride as each author presents their unique story. Places and characters will overlap, so be sure to look for your favorites and stay tuned for more novellas!

  ANTE UP: Sin City Volume #3

  Copyright 2014 Amanda Carlson, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-9903928-2-8

  Email: amanda@amandacarlson.com

  Be sure to sign up for my Newsletter! It’s where you’ll get all the news about what I’m up to, as well as up to date info on the Sin City Collectors, release dates, and access to private giveaways & free swag!

  Newsletter Sign-up

  This book is dedicated to:

  Billy. For always.

  “You want me to do what?” Diesel Jones sat across from Jake’s uncle, Louie Fiore, and scratched his head. He’d just finished a massive breakfast, and a stack of empty plates were piled on the table in front of him. They were in a booth at Lorraine’s, a Vegas diner off the beaten track that catered exclusively to supes and was one of Louie’s favorite spots to do business. “That doesn’t exactly sound legal.”

  Not that Diesel had a problem with breaking the law—especially a human law—but he didn’t want to get himself on the other end of a Collection, either. After all, he was this close to getting his official papers to join the Sin City Collectors, and he wasn’t going to let anything fuck that up.

  “Kidnapping is only a minor infraction.” Louie pushed his plate away, folding his hands together on the Formica. “But I need this done by Friday, or everything I’m working toward on this case goes to hell. Once you complete this task, you’ll become an official member of the SCC. You have my word on it.”

  Diesel trusted Louie Fiore as much as he trusted Jake Troubadour, his boss and mentor—which meant he trusted the hell out of him. Diesel had been working for Jake at his bars, first Hound Dog then at Hellhounds, for more than fifteen years, and during that time the guy had never steered him wrong. Both men were honest and straightforward, and Jake had told him to listen to what Louie had to say and then do exactly what he asked.

  Diesel was on board with that.

  “Can I tell Jake what’s up?” Diesel asked, reaching over to grab a toothpick out of the dispenser.

  Louie shook his head. “No. We keep all Collections and business affairs of the Collection agency private for a good reason. No one in the SCC talks about a Collection. It’s against the rules because it complicates matters. Once information gets leaked, we have a greater chance of losing our mark.”

  “But this isn’t an official Collection, right?” Diesel asked as he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the tabletop as he popped the toothpick into his mouth. “You just want me to pick this guy up, not arrest him.”

  Louie nodded. “That’s right. He’s not under an official Collection, but he has critical information for the case I’m building, and thus far he’s refused to come in on his own. He’s a slippery bastard, involved in a very hush-hush organization. His sister is actually the one we’re looking for. She’s been Collected once, but we didn’t have enough to make it stick. You bring him to me, or I lose out on nabbing the girl.”

  Diesel cracked his knuckles absentmindedly. He was a wolf shifter who had issues with the moon, which Louie was well aware of. It’s what had kept Diesel out of the SCC all these years. Diesel was strong, smart, and fully capable of becoming a good Collector. But his reactions to the full moon made him unpredictable and violent. He had no idea why the moon messed with him so badly, but he’d been living this way since he was eight years old.

  “Friday is only two days away,” Diesel pointed out, leaving out the obvious—the three-day full-moon cycle started in only one day. For Diesel, the day before the full moon, the day of, and the next were all hard on him. Louie knew that.

  “It’s not ideal,” Louie agreed, tapping a manicured finger on the table. “But it can’t be helped. If our target gets away, I’ll have to forfeit this case, and the supe I need is badly in need of a Collection. She’s done some awful things to many innocent people, and it’s time for her to pay for her crimes.”

  “What kind of supe is the guy I’m going after?”

  “An incubus.”

  Diesel blanched slightly, but refrained from pounding his fist through the table. Diesel’s dislike of sex demons ran deep, but he knew as a Collector he’d never have a say in his assignments. He was going to have to man-up. Instead of breaking the table in half, he cleared his voice and asked, “What’s the target’s name?”

  Louie lowered his voice and leaned forward. “Damien Stamos. He belongs to a group of incubi known as The Sumerians. They’re hard-core in their beliefs, and little is known about them. They’ve been extremely secretive for hundreds of years. We do know they pledge unbreakable vows, and once they enter the fold, their preferences only run female.” Sex demons were usually indiscriminate about who they slept with. “Word is, he’s after a certain woman here in Vegas, and he’s set to strike in the next day or two. If you accept this mission, I’ll send over all the particulars. But, I have to stress to you, this is an important job. One that I would trust to only a few people. Are you in or not?”

  Diesel contemplated Louie for a moment. The hellhound was dressed to perfection, Diesel would give him that. The guy was impeccable. He wore a crisp suit and tie, not a hair out of place. Louie Fiore had to be older than dirt, but the guy held an air about him, and he carried himself like the successful businessman he was. Even with a dusting of gray, Louie had received a fair amount of attention since they’d walked through the doors of Lorraine’s th
is morning.

  But not as much as Diesel had.

  Multiple waitresses had stopped by to fill up the shifter’s coffee in the last hour. Diesel had gotten his nickname because he was built like a Mack truck. He barely fit in the booth. He stood six feet, six inches tall and his muscles had muscles.

  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t smart. He gave Louie a wolfish grin as he leaned forward. “I accept.”

  “Just like that?” Louie’s eyebrows rose.

  “Yep.” Diesel draped a large arm across the top of the booth. “But I have one caveat. I bring my brother, Luke, along on the run to pick this guy up.” Diesel had uttered the words with a nonchalant air, but it was a serious request. He wasn’t going to do this without backup. Not because he couldn’t do the job alone—that wasn’t the issue. If he went into one of his “episodes” during the moon cycle, it could prove deadly for any innocent who crossed his path.

  Louie shook his head. “Can’t do it. This is official SCC business for me, even though it’s not a sanctioned Collection. I don’t take undo risks, and Collectors don’t work in teams.”

  Diesel brought his broad chest forward, his mouth going up on one side. “I know a test when I see one, Louie.” He gave the hellhound his signature wink. “I bring Luke, who has just filed his own application to join the SCC, but I won’t give him any intel about the job. He stays in the dark. He’s only there in case things get violent quickly.” He brought a hand up. “And before you tell me again that Collectors don’t work in teams, I know for a fact there have been exceptions—recent exceptions.” Diesel finished by arching an eyebrow, daring Louie to say otherwise.

  Jake and Nevada Hamilton hadn’t discussed their mutual Collection, but Sofia Cabrera had been a whole different story. The witch was new in town and had come into the bar shortly after seeking payment for her services. She’d ended up spilling enough details to paint a clear picture of what had gone down. He couldn’t blame the witch for talking. She wasn’t a member of the SCC, and it’d been a hell of a story.

  Louie cleared his throat. “That was the first time we’d teamed Collectors together, and we’re only recently making exceptions…as needed,” he emphasized. “I hear what you’re saying, and I will agree that your brother can cover you, but it’s imperative that no details be shared. This case is incredibly fragile as it is. Without the incubus’s word, we have nothing to move the case forward.” Louie peered at Diesel, seeming to examine him all the way to his core. “And you are correct. This is a test. You must master your moonlight issues or I can’t let you become a member of the SCC.” Louie reached for the check. “But I have total faith in you, my boy. This is your time to shine. Get this mission done, and you become a Collector.”

  “I hope so.” Diesel smiled, winking. “My mom’s counting on it.”

  Sofia Cabrera watched him enter Hellhounds from her position by one of the pool tables. The bar had become her second home in a very short period of time. She was new in town and hadn’t made any connections yet, so the bar was as good a place to pick up a few. He moved with the fluid grace of an animal, and it always captured her utmost attention.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  He had sandy-blond hair and piercingly green eyes. Today he wore a deep-red T-shirt with the word BOUNCER printed across the back. The material pulled tightly over his muscular chest. He was a specimen.

  But the most striking feature about him was his smile.

  The man was bewitching, and Sofia knew a thing or two about bewitching.

  “Witch, answer me,” Nevada Hamilton grumbled impatiently from her spot across the table. “Why are you still in Vegas, anyway? Shouldn’t you be on your way back home by now?” Sofia tore her gaze from Diesel and turned reluctantly back to the petulant dhampir as Neve mimed picking up a phone. “New Orleans called, and they need their witch back. Honestly, Cabrera, this town is full. It’s time for you to go home where you belong.”

  Sofia eyed her new frenemy and tried not to sigh too loudly. She knew Neve didn’t like her, but that didn’t stop Sofia from taking a seat next to the beautiful Collector every chance she had. This was a battle Sofia was determined to win. “Dhampir, don’t push me. I already told you I’m not from New Orleans. Not all witches hail from that particular city, you know. And I also told you, I’m now a proud resident of Las Vegas. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me for a while.”

  Neve made a noise in the back of her throat, but Sofia wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. Diesel was behind the bar, a towel tossed carelessly over his massive shoulder, already prepping Hellhounds for its busy hour. The place didn’t get hopping until midnight.

  Sofia stood without realizing what she was doing.

  “Where are you going?” Neve called to her retreating back. “Back to New Orleans, I hope! Or maybe back to Greece? You know, you really should visit your homeland more often.”

  “It’s cute you think I’m Greek,” Sofia tossed over her shoulder as she made her way to the bar, “but I’m Italian.”

  “Rome awaits!” Neve called. “And good gods above, I know you can afford it with all the money Jake paid you. I hear Venice is really nice this time of year…”

  Ignoring Neve’s jabs was becoming her specialty, and she stifled a smile, because she knew the dhampir was warming up to her, despite her prickly demeanor. She slid onto one of the barstools closest to the corner. The bar top was gorgeous, like everything else in here, a deep mahogany with curved trim and a smooth finish. Hellhounds was all dark leather and classy sophistication, which perfectly mirrored its owner, Jake Troubadour.

  Without waiting for her to speak, Diesel flashed her a delicious grin and set a dirty martini in front of her. Then he winked. Sofia grabbed on to the stem of the glass and took a long swallow so Diesel couldn’t see the effect he had on her. After a few draws, she managed to get hold of herself. But it was becoming more difficult to hide her growing infatuation.

  All she really wanted to do was jump behind the bar and push herself up against him—

  “Has your sister arrived yet?”

  Sofia tried not to choke on her last sip, clearing the naughty daydream away as quick as she could. “I’m sorry, what did you ask me?” She set the drink down and leaned over, resting her cheek against her palm as she stared at him. She felt like she was thirteen.

  Diesel blinked and seemed to shake himself before he answered, “I asked you if your sister was in town yet. Didn’t you tell me last week she was arriving any day now?”

  “Yes, I did. She’s not here yet, but she’s on her way.” Sofia stroked the stem of the glass and tried to keep her mind from straying. “But she’s not actually my sister sister. She’s more of a longtime friend. I’ve known her for eons, which makes us close like sisters. She should be here soon.”

  “What’s her name again?”

  “Ginger.”

  “That’s right.” Diesel chuckled. “I knew it was a spice of some kind. So if she’s not your real sister, is she still a witch?”

  Sofia didn’t really want to discuss Ginger with Diesel. She hadn’t seen her friend in a very long time, and they had unfinished business between them. Sofia had been very close to Ginger for years, living together and sharing everything, but that had changed twenty years ago. They’d had a falling out, and Sofia hadn’t been in contact with her since. Then, last week, out of the blue, Ginger had reached out to her. She’d called Sofia and said she was in trouble and on her way to Vegas. Sofia had recognized the upset in her friend’s voice—some things never change—and immediately promised to help her any way she could. But before the connection had been cut, Ginger had tried to tell Sofia something important. Sofia had heard only a fragment of what she’d said before the line went dead. It had sounded like “Stamos is coming,” or some such thing.

  Sofia didn’t think Ginger was actually dating John Stamos, but the idea wasn’t terribly out of left field. Ginger was drop-dead gorgeous, tall and curvy, with vibrant red
hair, smooth, perfect skin, and a body that could stop traffic. She’d dated celebrities before.

  Sofia had tried to call her friend back a dozen times since then, but she’d yet to pick up.

  Diesel cleared his throat, and Sofia flinched, realizing she’d been lost in her thoughts again. She picked up her drink, only to find it was empty. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

  Instead, Diesel leaned his massive body over the mahogany, edging close to Sofia. “Are you okay?” He took her hand in his, and a low, delicious current raced up her arm at his touch. He’d asked it quietly, bending down to look directly into her eyes.

  Sofia blushed and glanced away.

  “I don’t mean to pry, but you seem a little preoccupied today,” he said. “I was just asking what kind of supe your friend was.” Diesel let go of her and straightened. Her hand cooled immediately without his touch. “No biggie if you don’t want to tell me. Can I get you a glass of water?”

  “No, I’m fine,” she croaked. The entire interaction had thrown her. “Really. And it’s okay if you know. She’s a succubus, not a witch.” Sofia pushed her empty glass toward Diesel, but he wasn’t wearing his usual smile. Instead, his expression turned as dark as she’d ever seen it.

  “Is that so?” he said as he turned and walked away.

  Diesel had to get his anger under control. It wasn’t Sofia’s fault he hated incubi and succubi with a passion, and she had no idea he’d just received his first job from Louie to go after one. When his fur tingled for release under his skin, he opened and closed his fists and took in a few hefty breaths. What those sex demons had done to his family was almost too much to bear, and when he let his mind linger on it, his anger began to rocket into the stratosphere.