Her mouth bunched to one side like she was fighting the urge to laugh. Before she could answer him, the show music swelled and the stage lights exploded.
She winked at him. “Here we go.” And then, like a switch had been flipped, she became a showgirl. Head high, smile bright, she lifted her hands and pranced onto the stage. Jason peered through the curtains at the first few rows of the audience. Sloan might be the show’s main attraction, but right now, all eyes were on Claude.
And he completely understood.
Claude ran off the stage to the familiar sound of applause. The show had gone perfectly, each illusion garnering the full attention of the audience, which had hung on Sloan’s every word and flourish. There was no way the man couldn’t be happy with the performances she and Jason had turned in.
Sloan walked off behind her.
“Great show, Cristos.”
He nodded thoughtfully. A stagehand ran up with a chilled goblet of the imported water he favored. He took a sip before answering. “Yes, it was. You did well.” Something dark glittered in his eyes. “I expect you will not disappoint me later, either. I would hate to have to find a new assistant.”
If he meant to threaten her, he’d missed the mark by a mile. Being back onstage was fun, but that life was behind her. “But if I fail and sign the blood contract, you’ll have an assistant for life.”
He laughed. “Oh, dear sweet Claudia. That contract ensures only that you belong to me, not that you’ll be on my stage.” His gaze swept the length of her body. “There are other ways you can, and will, serve me.”
She barely controlled her gag reflex. “Well, I can assure you, you won’t be disappointed this evening. My contact is as good as I am.” She grabbed a towel from a nearby rack and dabbed at the sweat on her temples. Eager to get away from the man, she backed toward the dressing room. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
He nodded, waving her off.
She hustled into the dressing room, changed into the street clothes she’d brought and was just about to text Jason when her phone vibrated with a text from him.
Waiting by the exit. You were great tonite.
Smiling, she texted him back. You too. On my way. Despite her history with men, she realized she was not only ready to give this one a chance, but she wanted to. And the only way Jason had a shot at being in her life was for her to clear his name and get the Queen of Hearts back to the Boss. All of which needed to happen tonight.
She shot another text to Romero. Show over. Headed to Sloan’s. Did you find the dragon’s bone? Who are you sending?
His reply was almost instant. Found DB. Sending Ares.
The name sent a sudden shiver through her and wiped the smile from her face. In the hall, stagehands rolled one of the set pieces into the wings. The rumble of its passage traveled into her bones like an omen. Romero was sending Ares to play the part of her source.
Or tie up loose ends if things went south.
Ares was a wraith, a sort of vampire/grim reaper hybrid. And although he was a Collector in rank, he was really more of an executioner. She shuddered. She’d seen the guy, but had never met him. He wasn’t the mingling type. But, then, when your touch could siphon the soul out of a person’s body, keeping to yourself probably made more sense.
She dropped her phone into her bag and pushed the straps up onto her shoulder. If tonight didn’t go as planned, chances were good neither she nor Jason would get a second chance. Collectors who turned traitor were treated with zero mercy. Which was why Romero was sending Ares. If she and Jason didn’t get that ruby back, Ares would Collect her and Jason. Hopefully just them and not their souls.
She lifted her chin and left the dressing room behind to find Jason. She might be about to give the final performance of her life.
She was damn sure going to make it a good one.
Smile firmly affixed, she strode toward the exit with the kind of fake confidence years on the stage had taught her. Jason leaned near the big metal doors, bathed softly in the light of the EXIT sign above his head. He was so still that, for a moment, she could imagine him in his true form of carved stone.
Then he saw her, and a brilliant smile lit his face and brought him to life. He pushed off the wall and came toward her. “Hey there. You were amazing tonight.”
Her smile came easier. “You told me that already.”
“It bears repeating. Sloan’s never had an assistant like you. I saw the audience. You had them eating out of your hand.”
She shrugged, but kept her smile in place, hiding her true emotions over the text from Romero. “That’s what showgirls do, baby.” Her smile faded. “We should probably get to Sloan’s.”
Jason nodded and pushed open the door for her. “I’m as ready as you are to make this happen.”
With a last, quick smile, she darted past him and into the warm Vegas night. Jason might be ready, but he also didn’t know what was at stake. She waited until they were in the car and on the freeway before she said anything. “There’s something you need to know.”
His left hand gripped the steering wheel, while his right rested very close to her thigh. His eyes stayed on the road. “And that is?”
“The Collector they’re sending in to act as my source is a very dangerous supernatural.”
He laughed softly. “So am I, sweetheart. So are you, for that matter.”
“No, I mean really dangerous. He’s a wraith. He rarely goes on Collections. He’s more of an…executioner.”
Jason’s brows shot up. “And you’re telling me this because you think he’s been sent to Collect me if we fail?”
“No, I’m telling you this because I believe he’s being sent to Collect both of us if we fail.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and stared through the windshield at the blurring lights. “I get the sense they think I’m on your side.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I mean it in a traitorous way. The Boss is big on loyalty. Like, it’s one of his main things. If he thinks I’ve double-crossed him—”
“But you haven’t, and you’re going to return that ruby to him. That will clear things up, won’t it?”
She nodded. “I hope. You don’t know the kind of trouble I might be in.” That they might be in.
He slid his hand over and laced his fingers with hers. “Hey, look at me.” He tugged on her hand until she turned her head. “You have nothing to worry about. I am not going to let anything happen to you. You have my word. Relax. It’s all going to go off without a hitch. I promise.”
She wanted to believe him, but more than that, she loved how insistent he was about trying to make her believe everything was going to be all right. For his sake, she went along with it. “Okay.”
He grinned. “And as for trouble, well, if you were worried about that, you never should have kissed me.”
“Really? Because the way I remember it, you kissed me first.” She laughed. “You sure like to talk a big game, don’t you?”
He glanced at her, his gaze lingering on her chest. “I’m not the one wearing a low-cut leather vest and denim cutoffs.”
“If a little cleavage distracts Sloan, why should I hide it?”
“Sloan’s not the only one likely to be distracted.”
“Eyes on the road. If I’m going to die tonight, I don’t want it to be on a Las Vegas freeway.”
Still smiling, he shook his head. “Trust me, I’m not going to let you die.”
But his words rang hollow in the car’s quiet interior. Missions had a way of turning deadly fast, and this one was rife with possibility. She gave his hand a squeeze, thankful for something strong and warm to hold on to.
It was the closest she could come to a response.
Jason parked on the curve of Sloan’s circular drive and jogged around to Claude’s door to open it. The illusionist’s mega mansion and its surrounding landscaping were lit up like he was expecting the president. Besides the lights shining on both levels of the stucco eyesore, each
of the enormous date palms that lined the driveway were illuminated, as were the statuary that decorated the niches in the front of the house.
She stepped out onto the pavers. “This place looks like the result of new money and bad taste. I guess if one of something is good, fifty of them is perfection.” She blinked exaggeratedly as she stared at the place. “Figures he lives out here. Does he actually golf or did he just buy a house here for the address?”
Sloan’s house was one of many multimillion-dollar houses surrounding the Southern Highlands Golf Club. Only the filthy rich lived here. “He used to golf, but he used so much magic to win that he can’t find partners anymore.”
“Serves him right. No one likes a cheat—”
The massive front doors opened. “There you are, my darling Claudia.” Sloan wore a smoking jacket, silk trousers and velvet slippers. A starched butler stood behind him at the ready. “Come inside, why don’t you?” He waved a hand at Jason like it was an afterthought. “You, too.”
Jason shut the car door. “He’s going to be so disappointed when he finds out that was your first and last show.”
“That’s going to be the least of his worries when I’m through with him.” She smiled brightly at Jason, her eyes glittering with secrets and anticipation and the smallest hint of nervousness. “Speaking of shows, let’s get this one underway before Hugh Hefner Jr. over there gets antsy.”
The interior of Sloan’s house was even more overwhelming than the exterior. Marble floors, waxed plaster walls, gilded fixtures, crystal chandeliers, huge columns, dark wood and the kind of artwork that most people got to see only in casinos.
“We get it,” Claude whispered as they walked toward the great room where Sloan waited. “He’s got money.” She rolled her eyes at Jason, almost making him snort.
When they entered, Sloan stretched out his hand toward a side table. It held a silver champagne bucket bearing a magnum of Dom, a pair of flutes and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries. His butler had moved off to stand by the wall. “Please, have a drink with me to celebrate.”
Jason bristled. Only two flutes. Had Sloan been planning on seducing Claude?
She smiled sweetly. “That’s very kind of you, but I’d rather wait until my friend has arrived and our business is over. I like to have a clear head when taking care of such things. I’m sure you understand.”
Sloan arched a brow. “Are you sure you shouldn’t celebrate now? What if your friend doesn’t show? Or he hasn’t gotten what I requested?”
Sloan’s snide tone seemed to have no effect on Claude. Her smile stayed in place as Sloan reached for the bottle. “Oh, he’ll show. And he already texted that he’s gotten your dragon’s bone.”
Sloan popped the champagne and poured himself a drink. “Well, then! Even more reason to celebrate.”
She raised her finger. “There is one thing, however.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” Sloan sipped his bubbly, looking very much like a man who expected the other shoe was about to drop. “What might that one thing be?”
Claude waved toward the front of the house. “It’s a bit bright out there. Knowing my friend as I do, he’s not going to like that.”
“He’s not, is he?” Sloan drained his glass, then poured himself another. “As it’s my house and I’m the one who’s about to pay what I’m sure will be an exorbitant amount for this delivery, I’ll keep the lights on.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you know how wraiths can be about bright—”
“He’s a wraith?” Sloan paled. “You’re bringing a wraith to my house? Why on earth would you—”
“You asked me for dragon’s bone. You didn’t specify who could deliver it. Considering it’s not only a banned substance, but incredibly volatile, you shouldn’t be picky. There aren’t a lot of supes willing to handle that sort of thing. If they can even find it.”
Sloan’s mouth bent in displeasure. He snapped his fingers at the butler. “Turn the exterior lights to a minimum. Now.”
The man bowed. “Immediately, sir.” He practically ran out of the room. Within thirty seconds, the outside went dark.
Sloan glared at her. “You should have told me.”
“You should have asked.” Her sunny smile returned, and she sashayed toward him with the same walk that had first made Jason realize she might be more woman than he could handle. Something he still wasn’t sure about, but the challenge only made him want to try more. She stopped directly in front of Sloan. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
The sugar in her voice was enough to make a man diabetic.
Sloan cleared his throat. He seemed to be having some difficulty keeping his gaze from dropping below her chin. “Not mad, no. But I would have liked to be prepared.”
“I guess I was concentrating on the show so much I forgot.” She lifted his glass from his fingers and tipped it back, taking a long, slow sip. “You’ll do fine. Just let me do the talking and follow my lead. You can do that, can’t you?”
Sloan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes. This once.”
The low growl of an imported sports car rumbled into the room. All three of them turned. With the lights off outside, all Jason could really see was a pair of headlights. “Whatever he’s driving, it sounds expensive.”
Claude made a small noise in the back of her throat. “He’s very good at what he does.” She glanced at Sloan. “I’ll answer the door and bring him in.”
Sloan nodded, his mouth tight with apprehension. Wraiths were apparently not his favorite kind of supernatural. Jason bit back a grin.
Wait until the night was over.
Claude got to the front door at almost the same time Ares did, opening it as he strode toward her. He wasn’t as tall or broad as Jason, but an unmistakable aura of death surrounded him. His skin was as pale as moonlight, and his eyes had the piercing depth of a bottomless pit.
Unease rippled over her skin. Being this close to a creature who could kill you with one touch did that to a person. “Thank you for coming.”
“We’ll see.” He was dressed head to toe in black, most of it leather save his shirt and gloves, which looked like, and undoubtedly were, silk.
She was extraordinarily happy to see the gloves. “I assume Romero filled you in?”
Ares nodded, but his gaze was focused on the living room behind her. “He did. You’re to call me the Dealer. And as long as you two know your parts, we’re ready.”
“We do.” She supposed he was handsome in a cold way, but his flawlessness—the hard, lean body, the pitch-black hair and the harsh angles of his face—served only to underline how perfect a killing machine he was. “And while I’m thankful you agreed to do this, I also know that you’re here to act as cleanup if things don’t go as planned.”
He glanced at her then, his lips parting to reveal the tips of his fangs. “We are Collectors. We do the jobs we’re assigned. That’s all I’m here to do.”
If that was meant to be a dig at her sudden interest in helping the object of her task or his way of saying it was nothing personal, she couldn’t tell. “Well, then. Let’s go do this job.”
Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked toward the living room. No footsteps echoed behind her, no audible heartbeat or breathing, just the skin-prickling knowledge that death in human form followed at her back. She forced a smile onto her face as she entered the living room.
“Mr. Sloan, meet the Dealer.” She moved to the side and gestured toward Sloan. “I’m sure you gentlemen want to get this transaction underway.” Jason had repositioned himself at Sloan’s side in his role as bodyguard.
Sloan’s lazy grin made Claude want to skip the formalities and go straight to punching. If only they didn’t need that safe opened. “Not until Jason checks him out. You understand, Dealer, I’m sure. Security in these sorts of matters is very important.”
Ares’s brows barely moved. “Do what you need to.”
Jason approached Ares. He shot Claude a
quick look. She gave him a subtle nod in return. No doubt, Ares would reek of bad intentions, but Sloan would never know. Jason leaned in and inhaled the air around the wraith, pausing for effect. Finally, he turned back to Sloan. “Clean.”
“Very well.” Sloan tipped his champagne flute toward Ares. “Let’s see the product.”
Jason came to stand beside her as Ares reached into an interior pocket in his long leather coat. He pulled out a small mesh pouch woven of silver and held it out. “I’m sure you’ll want to test it.”
Still grinning like he was the one in charge, Sloan took the bag. “Of course.” He loosened the drawstring and spread the pouch open. Claude caught a glimpse of iridescent black powder. Sloan let out an appreciative sigh. “It’s as beautiful as I’ve heard.”
“And as deadly,” Ares offered. “Test it. You’ll see it’s real.”
Sloan looked up at him briefly before taking a pinch of the powder and sprinkling it onto his tongue. He leaned his head back and exhaled a stream of fire into the air, throwing the darkened room into sudden brightness.
The flames faded. He nodded. “So far, so good. Jason, your arm, please.”
Looking less than happy to be participating, Jason stuck his arm out. Sloan took another pinch and rubbed it onto Jason’s skin until a small patch was smeared in black dust. Sloan snapped his fingers, causing flames to dance on the tips. He held the fire to the black patch on Jason’s arm.
Claude shot forward. She hadn’t anticipated Jason being used as a guinea pig. “What are you doing?”
Jason held his other hand up. “It’s okay. I don’t feel anything.”
“He won’t,” Ares added. “The dragon’s bone makes flesh impervious to fire, among its other uses.”
Regardless, she hated Sloan’s complete disregard for Jason’s personal well-being.
Sloan closed his hand, snuffing out the flames. Then he hefted the pouch of dragon’s bone like he was testing the weight. “The product is good. This is two ounces?”
“Slightly over, actually.”Ares stared at him, his gaze daring Sloan to say anything more on the subject.
Sin City Collectors Boxed Set: Queen of Hearts, Dead Man's Hand, Double or Nothing Page 8