He stood before Robert Sloan’s desk. The man was studying an ancient book, purposely ignoring Jason, even though Sloan had called him in. It was just another of the sorcerer’s power trips. Fortunately, Jason’s military training meant he could stand at attention for hours if necessary.
This wasn’t a game Sloan was going to win.
But being able to win something so small did nothing to alleviate the feeling of being trapped, which was how Jason had felt since coming to work for Sloan. And for a shifter like Jason, there was no worse sensation in the world.
At last, Sloan looked up. “Ah, there you are. What took you so long? I must have called for you an hour ago.”
Which was how long Jason had been standing there. He grunted. It was a better response than slamming the man’s head into his desk. At least the visual made him feel better.
Sloan went back to his book, nodding absent-mindedly. “If all gargoyles are as slow as you, it’s no wonder your race is dying out. Let me see now…” He sighed and stabbed his finger onto a page in the book. “Ah, yes, there it is.” He looked up, eyes twinkling with a hard light. “I need the scales of a lamai demon.”
Jason knew better than to ask why. He already knew. Sloan was working on an immortality spell that was going to be a part of his next illusion, one where he apparently would die onstage. Somehow, the gathering of the very specific ingredients had fallen to Jason. And none of them were things that could be picked up at the local Magic Mart.
The first few hadn’t been that tough, but then Sloan had forced Jason to steal a massive ruby called the Queen of Hearts for the spell. And now he was going to force Jason to find the scales of a lamai demon. Which Jason would, because the man possessed Jason’s keystone, the maker’s mark and soul of every gargoyle. “I’ve got no idea where to get lamai demon scales.” A lie, but he wasn’t going to help Sloan any more than he had to.
Sloan rolled his eyes. “Come now, you can’t expect me to believe that. There’s a bar called Hellhounds near the Strip. It’s a known gathering place for all kinds of supernatural creatures.”
Damn. Jason hadn’t expected Sloan to know about Hellhounds. “And if there aren’t any lamai demons there?” Except that there usually were.
Sloan tipped his head like he was talking to a child. “Jason, must we really do this? You know what will happen if I destroy your keystone.”
Jason glared at the man. Yeah, he knew what would happen. And sometimes the thought of being an ordinary human, without any extra strength, senses or speed, didn’t seem so bad. It was almost the way he was living now by being separated from his keystone. And without all his extra skills, Sloan wouldn’t want him anymore. He might be human, but he’d be free. “That’s a supernatural bar. Going into that place on this kind of mission without being able to shift into my true form could be dangerous.”
“I agree. Which is why I suggest you be careful.” Sloan’s fingers coasted over the page, his attention no longer on Jason. “And you’re not without some advantage. You have your half-form.”
The intercom on Sloan’s desk buzzed, and his secretary’s voice poured out of it. “Mr. Sloan, your new assistant is here.”
Sloan hit the button to reply. “It’s about time. Send her in.”
The door to the penthouse office’s foyer opened and closed. “Hello?”
“In here,” Sloan called out.
The woman who strolled in caused all other thought in Jason’s head to cease. She moved with an unnatural grace that made it impossible not to watch her walk. It was the kind of walk that announced very plainly she wasn’t meant for just any kind of man. Her dark hair was done up in a simple low chignon, but a few pieces had escaped to dance around her perfect cheekbones. Black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her delicate nose. She pushed them onto her head, revealing a stunning pair of large, upturned eyes the color of cognac. Really expensive cognac.
She was the most regal temp he’d ever seen.
She held a slim leather clutch in one hand as she reached out with the other. “Mr. Sloan, I’m Claudia Smith. It’s a pleasure to meet Cristos the Incredible in person.”
“Yes, I imagine it is.” Sloan waved a hand at her, but didn’t shake hers. “Turn around.”
Sloan was a pig. Jason wanted to smack him and tell him to show a little respect.
She did as Sloan asked, rotating slowly. The view was equally impressive from all sides. “Is there something wrong?”
“Nothing. You’re as beautiful as Fiore promised you would be.” Sloan stared at her as if measuring her up, then shook his head. “This is Jason. He can tell you what needs done, show you where things are as soon as he confirms you’re safe.” Sloan pointed at him. “Jason, check her.”
“Safe?” She looked at Jason, then back at Sloan.
Staring at Sloan, Jason flattened his arms against his sides, causing the Beretta M9 in his side holster to press into his ribs. This imbecile couldn’t expect him to—
Sloan looked up. “What are you waiting for?”
Jason ground his teeth together and moved toward Claudia.
“Not here,” Sloan barked. “If you have to dispatch her, I don’t want the mess all over my office. Take her into the kitchen. If she passes, then…” Sloan’s gaze ran up and down her body. “Have her try the costumes on and see if they fit. We have a show tomorrow night. She needs to learn the routine by then, so let her watch the videos before we go to rehearsal this afternoon.”
Claudia’s eyes widened slightly, but she held her ground. Jason gave her points for not running screaming from the room.
“Go!” Sloan shook his head. “I have work to do.”
Jason grabbed Claudia’s hand and pulled her out of the room, closing the door behind him and getting her out of harm’s way. “That probably wasn’t the introduction you were expecting.”
“No.” There was very little fear in her eyes. Good. If she wasn’t made of strong stuff, she’d never last working for Sloan. “What did he mean for you to check me? And that you might have to dispatch me?”
Her gaze drifted beneath his jacket. “Are you…carrying?”
“Yes, but there’s nothing for you to worry about. Nothing bad is going to happen. Follow me, and I’ll explain.” Jason led her into the kitchen. He smiled. Not hard to do looking at her. “I’m Jason Tennant, by the way. I do security for Sloan, but I’m sure you figured that out.” He stuck his hand out.
She shook it, the tiniest flash of something wary passing through her gaze. “You can call me Claude. All my friends do.” She set her clutch on the kitchen counter. “What happens now?”
“Now I check you for intent, Claude.”
She stared at him. “Should I know what that means?”
“I’m a…that is, the kind of supernatural I am has the ability to detect intent to harm.”
She nodded, relaxing a little. “Okay. Are you going to frisk me?” She folded her hands behind her head, pushing her chest forward.
Her movement, combined with the idea of running his hands over that body, shot such pleasure through him that he barely contained a groan. “Uh, no, not exactly. I’m going to…sniff you.”
“You’re a hellhound? I thought they were basically extinct.” She lowered her arms.
“No, I’m not a hellhound. I’m a…” Sloan had taught Jason the danger in revealing his true nature. But now that his keystone was already stolen, what more harm could anyone do? Especially the woman in front of him. “I’m a gargoyle.”
Her brows lifted. “One of the few supernaturals who can fly. Very cool. I’ve actually never met one before. Be a shame if you had to kill me, hmm?”
He sighed and shook his head. “I promise that’s not going to happen, but if you wouldn’t mind, just stand still, and I’ll get this over with.”
She shrugged and clasped her hands in front of her, those cognac eyes piercing him.
Feeling like a perv, he went to work inhaling the air around her. She smelled warm and
flowery with the slightest hint of something earthy, the way all animal shifters did. He was acutely aware of how close they were. Of how all that separated them was the silky little wrap dress she wore and a few inches of air. After shaking her hand, he knew just how soft her skin was. And couldn’t help but wonder if she was that soft all over…
He pulled back. Her eyes were closed tight. Was she really afraid he might kill her? Damn, not a first impression he was proud of, but that was Sloan’s fault, not his. “You’re okay. All checked out.”
“Good.” She sighed as she opened her eyes, looking very relieved. “Do you check all of Mr. Sloan’s visitors that way?”
“Yes,” Jason growled. “The man thinks everyone’s out to get him.” Which they might be. If not for the issue of Jason’s keystone, he’d probably kill Sloan himself.
“Have you worked for Mr. Sloan long?”
Ever since the bastard had stolen his freedom. “Long enough.” He changed the subject. “You’re some kind of shifter, right?”
She laughed. “You picked that up, huh?”
“I did. Plus, all of Sloan’s assistants are. They kind of have to be for the show. Less actual work he has to do if the girl can turn herself into some kind of animal.” He tipped his head. “What are you? I’m guessing feline.”
She nodded. “Very perceptive. And since we’re sharing, I’m a leopard.”
He nodded. “That will work nicely.” No wonder she had those big cat eyes and that dead-on stare. Her hotness rose a few notches. A woman who could shift into a leopard was suddenly the sexiest thing he’d heard of. And it was good to know she was probably capable of handling herself around Sloan. “He keeps a couple old costumes here, but the current ones are in the dressing room at the theater. If you try one on, I can verify it fits, then we can move on to the actual show. There’s a lot to learn and not a lot of time to do it in.”
She smiled. “I’m a quick study. And I’m sure I’ll have no problems with the costume, so long as the previous assistant wasn’t anorexic.”
“No, she was about your size.” Which was perfect.
Claude leaned in a little. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened to the last assistant?”
Jason sighed. “Sloan fired her in one of his rages.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“More than it should.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “You’ll see.”
Claude shut the door to the meeting room and leaned against it. Jason’s story about Sloan’s treatment of the last assistant made her feel for the Collector who’d come before her. It’s a wonder the woman hadn’t quit. Sloan was hard-core crazy.
Which made it difficult to understand why anyone, Jason included, would go along with Sloan’s crazy orders so willingly. Whatever was going on, there was more to it than what Jason was telling her. She also got the feeling she was in deeper than Romero had led her to believe she would be. Jason was armed, for Bast’s sake.
After making sure the door was locked, she walked to the far side of the room, dug out her phone and sent a quick text to Romero. Was last Collector also Sloan’s assistant? If so, I can understand why she couldn’t hang. Seems most of his assistants get fired.
She tucked the phone away and went to the closet where Jason had indicated the costumes were. She opened it and snagged the first one she saw, a black and silver sequined number with a little feather headdress, fishnets and the spikiest pair of stiletto knee-high boots she’d ever seen. It was like being backstage at the Silver Slipper all over again.
Except this time she didn’t have to worry about anyone pushing her down the steps. She glanced toward the door. Or did she?
Bast help her, she really didn’t want to have to kill Jason—he was an extraordinarily handsome man with a body that did not disappoint, but if he struck first, she wasn’t going down without a fight. One she’d end up winning, because no doubt he thought she was just a feline shifter. Grimalkins were more powerful than normal shifters. Even in her old-woman form she had enough strength to pick up the back end of a city bus.
She untied her wrap dress, kicked off her shoes and started putting on the costume. Flirting with Jason wasn’t hard. She had to keep reminding herself that she was supposed to be pretending, but the banter with him came so easy it was more like play than work. Not that anything would happen between them, because he was the target of her mission and a known criminal. She’d had enough of men to last her a lifetime anyway, but it was good she and Jason were getting on so well. She needed him to feel comfortable enough with her to eventually let loose some secrets. Specifically, what he’d done with the Queen of Hearts.
Of course, he’d confessed his true nature to her pretty easily. She’d expected him to hide the fact that he was a gargoyle, but he’d come right out with it.
She shimmied into the sequined hot pants, happy when they zipped up the back without protest. Snug, but that’s how they were meant to fit. She grabbed the bustier next. What did it mean that he’d handed over that info so readily? She couldn’t imagine she’d charmed him that quickly. Not that she wasn’t good at her job.
No, it was almost like…it didn’t matter if she knew. Like he didn’t care.
Why? What would make him feel that way? A chill gripped her. The only reason she could think of for him not caring that she knew his true nature was if he knew she wasn’t going to be around that long.
If he expected her to quit, he was going to be wickedly disappointed.
Unless…Holy Bast. Had Jason ever disposed of one of Sloan’s assistants? Did the job come with an expiration date? Romero would have said something about that, wouldn’t he? She hoped so.
She hooked the bustier, adjusting the girls for maximum cleavage, then sat in one of the chairs surrounding the conference table to zip up the black stiletto boots before checking her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window.
Oh, yes. She still had it. She might be slightly more curvy than her days headlining at the Silver Slipper, but it was all in the right places.
As for Jason, well, she’d just pour it on a little thicker. Make sure he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her. She’d make him fall in love with her if she had to. Wasn’t that hard, really. She’d done it to a thousand men every night, six nights a week when she’d been dancing.
With a smile on her face, she pulled the pins from her chignon, tossed them on the conference table, and finger-combed her hair free, then reached back and undid the hooks on the bustier. Holding it to her chest with one arm, she opened the conference room door. “Jason?”
“Yes?” He was leaning against the opposite wall, his eyes widening a little as he did his best not to stare at her.
She bumped the door wider with her hip, then turned and swept her hair over one shoulder to expose her bare back. “I need a little help. Can you hook me up?”
“Uh. Sure.” A second later, his knuckles grazed her skin as he fumbled with the tiny hooks and eyes. It felt like his fingers lingered longer than necessary. She smiled, enjoying the sudden effort of his breathing. His touch left wakes of heat behind as his fingers lifted from her skin. “There. All done.”
She surreptitiously adjusted the girls again before turning back around, her hands on her hips, her chest thrust forward. “What do you think? Do I pass the costume test?”
He nodded so slowly she wondered for a moment if the sight of her had struck him dumb, but then he managed a, “Yes. Definitely.”
“Should I go show Mr. Sloan? I might need a little help getting to his office.” She grabbed his arm and wobbled slightly for effect. “The heels on these boots aren’t meant for shag carpeting.”
He smiled and almost blinded her. Holy Bast, he was pretty. It didn’t hurt that he looked like he’d been carved out of stone. Which seemed appropriate for a gargoyle. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I can vouch for you, Claudia.”
She leaned into him. “Please, call me Claude.”
“Claude,” he repeated.
“Claudia fits you better.”
“Why’s that?”
His eyes narrowed. “Claude is a man’s name. And you are definitely not a man.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
He laughed. “Maybe, Claude.” He took a step back as if catching himself. “That’s probably not appropriate, is it? I know Sloan wouldn’t like me running you off before you’ve even begun.”
This time, she laughed. “Oh, I don’t scare that easily.” She canted her head. “Are you sure that’s not why some of the other assistants quit?”
“No.” He scowled. “They left because of Sloan.”
“I only meant maybe you’d broken their hearts.”
“I’m not like that. And Sloan wouldn’t allow it anyway. He’s got rules.” The steel in his eyes told her she’d hit a nerve, but was it because something had happened with an assistant or because Jason was tired of Sloan controlling him?
Either way, she’d killed the fun, flirty mood. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her bare back to him again, hoping to distract him and return that smile to his face. “Will you do me?”
His swallow was audible, and not just because she had better hearing than most. “What did you say?”
“I asked if you’d undo me.”
“Oh. I thought you said—never mind. Sure.”
“Thanks.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled. Her hair was in the way. He’d have to move it himself to accomplish the task. “Then I’ll get dressed, and you can show me the routine. Sound good?”
He nodded as he gently brushed her hair over her shoulder, his touch raising goose bumps and reminding her just how much time had passed since she’d been this intimate with a man of any species.
Then she reminded herself what an ass that last man had turned out to be. There was no reason to think Jason—or any other man—would be different.
The bustier drooped as he undid the last hook and eye, held up only by her crossed arms. “I’ll meet you in the viewing room, and you can watch the DVD of the show, okay? It’s just down the hall and on the right.”
Sin City Collectors Boxed Set: Queen of Hearts, Dead Man's Hand, Double or Nothing Page 2