“Are you always this persistent?”
“Are you always this hard to persuade?” She poked him again, frowning. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about having tough skin. You’re like a rock. Literally.”
He laughed. For someone he’d just met, he already liked her too much. “How are you at pretending to be someone’s girlfriend?”
She made a face. “You don’t mean for Sloan, do you? Because, no.”
“I meant for me.”
A sly smile erased her grimace. “I don’t think that would be too difficult.” A soft hum emanated out of her. “You’re not going to have the gun on you, are you?”
He shook his head. “No, I carry that only when I do security for Sloan. It’s another of his rules.”
She went back to smiling. “In that case, I’m in.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“Okay, then. But I still have reservations about this.” He took a breath. She’d agreed to that pretty easily. “I need to go to a place called Hellhounds and pick something up for Sloan. Having a date with me would probably make things go a little smoother.” He hoped.
The hum got louder. “I know the place. Never been there, but I know it. What time?”
“Ten.” He leaned forward, listening more closely. “Are you…purring?”
The sound—and her smile—disappeared suddenly, then her face paled, only to instantly color the shade of Cristos’s crimson velvet coat. “What? No.” She spun around and started toward the setup for the next illusion.
He stood there and grinned. She had been purring. Wasn’t that a sign Claude liked him? Then he realized what he’d just roped her into, and the grin vanished. Hellhounds wasn’t a decent place, but he was going there on dangerous business. The first sign of trouble, and he’d have to get her out of there fast and without a scratch on her. And there was only so much he could do defensively without being able to shift into his true form.
Jason ground his teeth together. Claude might have a pretty set of claws, but there were far more dangerous creatures at that bar. If she got hurt, he’d never forgive himself for dragging an innocent woman into Sloan’s dirty dealings.
Nor would Sloan.
He was about to tell her to forget it when he turned and realized she was talking to someone on the other side of the stage, and the conversation sounded like it was getting a little heated. He jogged over to see what was going on.
Roxy, one of Sloan’s many ex-assistants, was now shouting at Claude. “You should know he’s a real ass.”
Claude, her voice just as calm as could be, seemed to be holding her own. “Sloan is an artist, and I realize they can be temperamental—”
“Temperamental? Is that what you—”
Jason jumped between them. “Roxy, what are you doing here? You don’t work here anymore.”
She hoisted a silver Spandex leotard and a pair of dance shoes. “I left some of my practice gear here.”
“And now you’ve got it, so you can go.”
“Oh, sure, protect her. Like I’m the one she should be worried about.” She looked around him at Claude. “He’s a terrible lay.”
Jason pointed toward the exit. “Out. Now.”
He didn’t turn to look at Claude until Roxy had left. Her arms were crossed, and her lips were rolled in like she was trying to suppress a smile. He realized how their exchange must have sounded. “She meant Sloan.”
Claude held up her hands, the twinkle in her eyes matching her now very visible smirk. “Hey, it’s none of my business.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward the stage as she backed away. “I’m just going to walk through that last number one more time.”
“I never slept with her,” Jason yelled after her.
Shaking her head, she spun around and kept going. Jason’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t slept with Roxy, as much as she’d wanted him to. He had a strict rule about no sloppy seconds when Sloan had been there first, but he’d never cared what anyone thought about his extracurricular behavior.
Until now.
The day had been long but interesting, and Claude had made real steps toward her goal. Her phone vibrated. A text from Jason saying he was on his way to pick her up for their pretend date. They’d exchanged numbers before finally leaving rehearsal.
She put the phone down and picked up her brush. She smoothed her hair into place as she assessed the mission so far. The purring thing had worked like a charm, but then it rarely failed to get the desired response. Men read so much into it, and Jason was no exception. Except she wasn’t pretending that much with him. He was an easy guy to like, and she was beginning to think more and more that he wasn’t the bad guy the Boss thought he was.
Although, she’d been burned once by a guy she thought was decent. Actually, she’d thought he was the one. She’d given her heart to him, and he’d used it like a scratching post. As exes went, he was an award-winning loser, but Jason came off as so genuine. So real. Yes, he was hiding something, but it was more like he was trying to protect himself than keep something from her. Not like he was hiding the kind of secret that would end up hurting her. No, there had to be a good reason he was voluntarily doing Sloan’s dirty work.
Speaking of dirty work, she did really hope he hadn’t slept with Roxy. That was a visual she just didn’t need.
She’d find out more tonight about all of it. Whatever Jason was supposed to pick up at Hellhounds would be telling. If she had to guess, she’d say it was the payment for the Queen of Hearts.
She set the brush down and picked up her black eyeliner. Was Sloan’s empire in trouble? Could he need the money from the sale of that gem to keep things afloat? There were easier ways for a sorcerer of his caliber to get funds, though. She finished outlining her eyes and added a few sweeps of mascara.
Jason’s reluctance to run Sloan’s errand had been equal to his reluctance to let her tag along. Not exactly the MO of a thug. If anything, Jason seemed more like Sloan’s indentured servant than his willing henchman.
She slicked on a deep red lip stain, then stood and gave herself a final once-over in the mirror. Her littlest black dress and her highest black heels made for quite a combo. If Jason wanted her to pretend they were dating, she was about to show him just how good she was at make-believe. And hopefully make him forget they were pretending long enough that he shared the info she needed. She wasn’t sure what kind of tolerance gargoyles had for alcohol, but getting a few drinks into him probably wouldn’t hurt, either.
Her doorbell rang. She grabbed her clutch and went to answer it. She popped one hip to the side as she opened the door and got a good look at her new pretend boyfriend. “Well, hello there, handsome. Don’t you clean up nice?”
Jason in a suit was a beautiful thing to behold. The charcoal fabric did little to hide the body she’d seen on display earlier today, and his black shirt was open just enough to show off a sliver of his hard chest and the chiseled notch of his throat. Her tongue would fit perfectly there.
Pretend. Tonight was just pretend.
His mouth opened, but for a moment, nothing came out. “You, uh, look…wow. If this is you being a fake girlfriend, I can only imagine what the real thing looks like. You look good. Damn good.”
She held up her purse. “For real dates, I carry pepper spray.” She laughed, a little sad that the man she’d been tasked to Collect was so sweet. He wasn’t making her job any easier, but he was strengthening her resolve to find out the real story before she hauled him in. “Thanks for appreciating the effort. I’m ready, so…”
He held his hand out toward the sidewalk. “Let’s go then.”
She shut and locked her door, then stepped into rhythm beside him. Her heels clicked on the concrete.
He nodded as he looked her over again. “You smell really good, too.”
“Thanks. It’s catnip.”
His expression was total disbelief. “What?”
She laughed and poked his arm. Hard as a rock. “
I’m kidding.”
He shook his head, smiling. “You’re goofy, you know that? It’s hard to believe you’re beautiful and funny. Sloan’s assistants are always beautiful, but most of them take themselves way too seriously.”
She cocked one shoulder nonchalantly. “Life’s too short not to have fun.”
“Life’s too short for a lot of things.” He leaned ahead to open the car door.
“Nice ride.” She hadn’t expected him to be in a Mercedes sedan.
He shrugged. “Don’t be too impressed. It’s a Sloan hand-me-down. And last year’s Christmas bonus, mostly because my old pickup truck didn’t suit his image. But it’s one of the few cars I fit into comfortably, so I kept it.”
“I can see how that would be tough for a guy of your size.” She slid into the car. It still smelled brand new. He got in the other side as she finished buckling her belt. “How tall are you?”
“Six-five.”
“I bet you played football in school.”
He started the car. “I did, until the third time a guy broke his collarbone running into me. After that, I stopped. It just wasn’t fair to the other players.”
She twisted in her seat so she could face him better. “I don’t know much about gargoyles. Are you really that hard?”
He snorted as he pulled out into the street. “That’s a loaded question.”
She laughed and covered her face with her hands, this time blushing for real. “That is not what I meant.” She slapped his shoulder. Hand, meet Brick Wall. “You’re not very well behaved, you know that?”
“You’re the one who wanted to date me.” His grin was utterly wicked. “Besides, you’re the one who just said life’s too short not to have fun.”
“You’ve got me there.” She matched his grin. “Come on, tell me about being a gargoyle.”
“I’m not sure what there is to tell. We can fly, have very tough skin, bones like steel and the ability to detect evil intentions.” He glanced over to wink at her. “And, yes, I guess you could say we’re hard all the time.”
“You’re awful.” She snickered, unable to help herself.
“And you’re laughing.”
She adjusted her position to stretch her arm along the console so that it ran alongside his. “Is it true you go to stone on the full moon?”
He nodded, eyes straight ahead and looking a bit more serious. “It’s our most vulnerable time.”
She tipped her head to the side. “One weakness for all those strengths isn’t too bad of a trade-off.”
“It’s not our only weakness.”
“What else is there?”
He shot a glance at her quickly before returning his eyes to the road. “Our keystone.”
“What’s that exactly?”
He let out a long, slow breath. “The keystone is a thin slab of stone that bears a maker’s mark. The first of our kind were chiseled from stone and brought to life with magic. The keystone connects every gargoyle to that heritage, and in that way, it’s the thing that connects us to our true form.” He shrugged. “Vampires have their coffins, sirens have their water, gargoyles have their keystones.”
“A siren without access to water will eventually die.”
“Good thing we’re born with our keystones attached to us.” He changed the subject to the show, and they talked about that until he finally pulled the car into the Hellhounds parking lot and backed into a spot. Easier for a fast getaway? He turned the car off and twisted to face her. “Whatever happens in there tonight, your safety comes first. Don’t worry about me, just get yourself out of the way of any danger.”
“What could—”
“This isn’t open to debate.” His eyes held a steely determination. “Promise me.”
“Okay, I promise.” Except that she didn’t. Her job came first. That’s what being a Collector—even a retired one—meant.
“Good.” He hopped out of the car and came around toward her door. The keystone thing was interesting and not something she’d ever really heard about, but she could understand his reluctance to share a potential weakness with anyone. Most supes were like that, and who could blame them? Being a supernatural often meant you had a lot of built-in enemies. Which made it all the more interesting that he’d shared as much as he had with her.
He opened her door, and she got out, slipping her arm through his rock-solid one. She gazed up at him, arching her brows. “Just so you know, this might be a pretend date, but I am not pretend drinking. That’s going to be all real.”
He laughed. The soft thump of a bass beat greeted them as they approached the entrance. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, you knocked it out of the park today at rehearsal. You’ve earned a drink.”
“Oh, I think I’ve earned more than one.”
Inside, the club had a good crowd of supernaturals of every description, some clearly showing off by displaying their fangs, claws and brightly colored eyes in half-form. Although, if humans wandered in, all they’d see were more humans. The only way a supe could hide their true appearance from another supe was with magic, sometimes called a glamour, unless they also had the ability to shift into a human form like she did, but even shifters could spot each other. “This place is a lot nicer than I anticipated.”
The bar top was a length of gorgeous mahogany with curved trim and a glassy finish. It fit beautifully with the rest of Hellhounds’s interior of dark leather, smoked mirrors and more polished wood. The warm, comfortable surrounds had the feel of an old-time men’s club but with a modern sophistication. She could see why supes flocked to this place. The vibe was cool, the pool tables were busy and the wait staff very attractive.
Jason leaned in, giving her a chance to enjoy whatever spicy cologne he’d spritzed himself with. “What would you like to drink?
“A glass of champagne.”
He smiled and raised his brows.
“What did you think I was going to order? A white Russian?”
Grinning, he pointed toward the bar. “They have catnip-infused vodka here.”
“What?” She turned to look.
He laughed out loud. “Just kidding.”
Rolling her eyes, she held up her hands. “Okay, you got me.”
He pointed to a small half-circle booth that was opening up. “You want to grab that for us while I get the drinks?”
“Sure.” Her heels went a long way toward eliminating the height difference. She leaned in and kissed him on the mouth, short and sweet. Unlike the rest of his body, his lips were deliciously soft. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her in shock.
She nuzzled his ear. Holy Bast, he smelled good. “This is supposed to be a date, remember?” She bit her lip to keep from biting him. “I just thought we should act like it.”
He nodded, a low gravelly sound rumbling out of him. “Good, uh, pretending.”
“Right. Just pretending.” She slipped away toward the table before he could say anything else, her heart racing a little. That reminder had been as much for her as it had been for him. Although she might have needed it more. She’d never fallen for a Collection. Ever. Mostly because there’d never been one worth falling for.
Until now.
For a moment, he forgot who he was, why he was standing there, and what he was supposed to be doing. All he could do was let the softness of her lips on his and the sensation of her breath on his neck wash over him until his pulse returned to normal and his brain found a way to function again. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?
He guessed she did. And didn’t care.
He made his way to the bar. Diesel, the head bartender and general manager, was on duty, as always. Diesel was a shifter. What kind was unclear, but it was rumored he turned into some kind of beast when the moon was full. Jason could relate, but Diesel still wasn’t someone Jason wanted to start trouble with. Hell, he didn’t want to start trouble with anyone. What he really wanted to do was forget the real reason he’d come here and enjoy an ev
ening of Claude’s company instead.
Being around her made Sloan’s hold on him fade away, at least while he was in the moment. She made it easy to feel like a free man again.
He glanced at the table where she was sitting. Waiting for him. The men who passed her made no effort to hide their attraction. Why would they? She practically radiated sex. A second later, he realized he was growling.
“What can I get y—” The female bartender jerked back. “Whoa, relax, dude.”
He must have slipped into half-form, the best he could do without his keystone. He took a breath and willed that part of himself away. “Sorry about that.”
“Hey, I’ve seen worse in here. What’ll it be?”
“Whiskey neat and a glass of your best champagne.”
She nodded and went to fill the order. While he waited, he scanned the bar for a lamai demon and found a trio of them, all female, standing by one of the pool tables scoping out a small pack of fae males. With his target acquired, he felt a little better, but females weren’t going to be any easier to strip of their scales than males of the species were. Plus, females had a poisonous bite.
The bartender returned to take his cash and hand over the drinks. He dropped a tip, snagged the drinks and made his way back to Claude, who was currently being chatted up by an ice demon.
She beamed at Jason when he set the flute of champagne in front of her. “Thanks, honey. I missed you.” Then she slanted her eyes at the demon. “I told you I was with someone.”
The ice demon snarled and stomped off, leaving behind a small shower of snow flurries that melted into the air.
Jason stared after him. “Can’t say I blame you, buddy.” He turned to Claude. “You okay?”
“Fine. Nothing to worry about.” She sipped her champagne. Her eyes widened appreciatively. “Ohh, this is the good stuff.” She laughed. “You’re the best fake first date I’ve ever had.”
“You go on a lot of fake dates, do you?” He slid onto the booth beside her.
“No. And closer.”
“What?”
She gestured with her glass. “This is a date, not a business meeting. You’re all the way over there. Come closer.”
Sin City Collectors Boxed Set: Queen of Hearts, Dead Man's Hand, Double or Nothing Page 4