She leaned in farther, and her hand slipped down the neck of his shirt.
His breath stuttered. “Now who’s not playing fair?”
Her lips were on his ear. “All’s fair in love and war, right?” She went strangely still, then sat back, a worried look in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to say…that is, I’m not trying to push things. I just…it’s a saying is all.”
“You don’t want me to think you might be falling in love with me?”
For the next few seconds, all he could hear was the rapid beat of her heart and the soft inhalations of her breathing. “What if I am?”
Somehow, he kept his eyes on the road. “You sure that’s a smart move? I’ve lived alone my entire life. I’m ill-tempered, gruff, antisocial, as you’ve seen, stubborn and generally considered unpleasant to be around. Also, I don’t like to share. Meaning you. I find the thought of you with another man unacceptable. And yet, I know how you draw people. It’s who you are. I’m not sure how I’m going to deal with that.”
He took a breath and kept going. “And then there’s my job. I can’t talk about the Collections I’m sent on, so you’re going to have to have a lot of trust in me. My job is a big part of who I am. It keeps me sane in a lot of ways, but the work I do isn’t for the faint of heart.”
“I get that,” she said softly.
“Do you? Because I guess what I’m asking is, have you thought about what falling in love with someone like me really means? What it’s going to cost you?”
Her answer was quiet but sure. “I don’t think you’re half those things. The man I see is strong and brave and caring and deeply deserving of love and affection. And other men? I don’t want another man. I want you. The only cost I see would be from not being with you.” Her volume increased. “And so you know, I’m no walk in the park, either. You think you’re stubborn? Ha. I’m so used to getting what I want that I won’t accept the alternative.”
She crossed her arms. “I expect loyalty, affection, occasional pampering and fun. If you’re not delivering on any of those things, I’ll let you know. I’m not about to give up being Javier’s muse, either. I have to work—just like you, it keeps me going. So, I guess the real question is have you thought about what falling in love with someone like me really means?” She canted forward with her brows lifted. “I’m a demigoddess, in case you’ve forgotten. High expectations are built into my DNA.”
Unable to keep a straight face any longer, he burst out laughing. “Where have you been all my life? Seraphina Kostos, it will be my supreme pleasure to spend the rest of eternity spoiling you silly and doing everything I can to take your breath away in the most wicked ways possible.” He looked at her. “What do you say?”
Her grin was infectious. “I say, Bring it on, baby.”
He pointed right in front of her. “Open the glove box.”
“This thing has a glove box?”
“Yes. It’s small, but it’s there.” And so was a very special surprise.
She popped the small door open, and a slim box fell into her lap. “What’s this?”
“Let’s call it an expression of my affections and a promise of things to come.”
She opened it and gasped. “Are you serious?”
“Do you like it?” He had stopped by Claudette Marchon’s Gem Exchange on his way, knowing the former Collector specialized in high-end estate pieces. As soon as he’d seen the diamond and sapphire bracelet, he’d had to have it for Seraphina. It was a rare art deco piece, as unique and beautiful as she was.
Seraphina held it up. “It’s…it’s gorgeous. Incredible. It’s too much.”
“It’s only the beginning.” He smiled. “I am falling in love with you, Seraphina. I know it’s only been a few days, but I don’t need time to tell me you’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”
“Me, either. I feel the same way.” She clasped the bracelet around her wrist then reached over and grabbed his hand. “Thank you. I love the bracelet.” She snickered softly. “I can’t wait to see how it sparkles when we’re dancing.”
DOUBLE OR NOTHING
A Sin City Collectors Novella
Kristen Painter
“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
Welcome to Las 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.
Gage Hudson is a vampire on a mission. All he wants—all he’s ever wanted—is to locate the vampire who killed his brother and exact his revenge. Even if that means losing his job as a Gotham City Collector. And he knows what loss feels like, because his desire for revenge has already cost him the love of his life.
Sin City Collector and pixie Minka Winslow has revenge fantasies of her own and they all involve Gage. When he walked out on her with no explanation, she took the heat for the Collection he ruined. Fortunately for him, she’s put that part of her life behind her.
At least until the two are forced to work together to stay alive. When an enemy from their past returns to threaten them, they have no choice but to reconcile long enough to survive. Then new information changes everything. Just how much will they gamble to make things work this time?
What’s Collected in Vegas, stays in Vegas…
*All Sin City Collectors Novellas are stand alone novellas, 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. The world of the Sin City Collectors is big. Places and characters will overlap, so be sure to look for your favorites and stay tuned for more novellas!
For the House of Pain street team—I love you guys!
Even from two stories below, the tinny clink of the mail slot opening and closing roused Gage Hudson from sleep. He sat up in bed, the sheets sliding off as he tensed, ready to attack, but no further noise came, just the usual sounds of the city going about its day outside his brownstone.
He left the bed and headed downstairs to the foyer. The house’s dark interior was no obstacle to his vampire eyes. A note card lay on the floor near the locked door. He picked it up, inhaling for any trace of the person who’d pushed it through the mail slot, but there was nothing unusual.
He turned it over. Scratchy, near-illegible handwriting marred the card’s ivory surface.
Willem Gage Hudson. No one ever used his full name. I have found the one you seek. A time and address followed.
Everything in Gage shut down as an image of Spenser Blackwell overwhelmed his thoughts. The vilest of all vampires, Spenser took what he wanted and didn’t care who paid the price. One of those who’d paid, and paid dearly, had been Caleb, Gage’s brother. And all because in another life and time, when the three of them had been newly turned and high on power, Gage had bedded the girl Spenser had wanted for his own.
A foolish decision. One he’d spent the last two hundred years wishing he could undo.
Gage frowned at the memory and the note. He had no idea who’d sent the card, but that didn’t matter. He’d follow any thread that might take him to Blackwell.
The address was in Las Vegas. What were the odds Blackwell would show up in Gage’s old stomping grounds? But then Blackwell had to be somewhere. He certainly wasn’t in New York. None of Gage’s leads here had amounted to anything.
He checked the mantel clock. Almost noon. No wonder why he felt like he was wading through quicksand. Still, that was plenty of time for him to make travel arrangements. If he booked a red-eye for this evening, he could arrive in Vegas before sunup tomorrow. He’d have to take care of all his own arrangements there, too, since this wasn’t an agency job, but he still had plenty of connections in Vegas.
The dull ache along his gum line reminded him he needed to feed, but the memories of Blackwell had ruined his appetite. Besides, a bag of blood from the cold storage just wasn’t the sa
me as tapping a vein, even though that was all he’d allowed himself lately. There were places in Vegas he could visit when he arrived, places that would supply him with a willing donor.
Actually, there were places in Vegas that would send a donor to his suite once he was checked in. Agencies in Manhattan would do that, too, but he’d kept away from those services on purpose after finding out that some donors had a tendency to get attached. The last thing he wanted was some kind of relationship entanglement. The delivery service he used kept him fed. That was all he needed. For now.
Gage walked back up to his room, sat on the edge of the bed and flicked the card against his thigh. Vegas. The memories of his days there as a Sin City Collector were bittersweet. Living here in New York, the city he’d grown up in, and working for the Gotham City Collectors had its own challenges, but Vegas had been an especially delicious kind of crazy.
Mostly because of the woman he’d left behind.
How did he go to Vegas without seeing her? He almost laughed. That assumed she’d want to see him, which was highly unlikely since he’d walked away and left her without a word after…everything that had gone down. He’d had no other choice.
It also assumed she was still in Vegas, still working as a Collector herself.
She probably was, but things could have changed since the last bit of intel he’d received. The Collectors, no matter what city they worked out of, had a grapevine of their own. Every once in a while, he’d heard her name, maybe a detail or two of a Collection she’d been on, but not much else. Like if she was seeing anyone, or even married, for that matter.
The possibility of either darkened his mood further.
Whatever her status, there was no way she’d want to see him. Was there? No, probably not. Damn it, he’d screwed the pooch hard on that one. He shoved a hand through his hair and growled softly. To say he missed Minka was an understatement. He hadn’t been involved with another woman since. Maybe being alone was his penance for what he’d done to her, for being the reason they weren’t together anymore.
He knew she’d felt betrayed, but he’d had no other option. His brother or the woman he loved? He just hadn’t realized then how much he’d loved her.
With a deep sigh, he lay back on the bed and stared into the dark. It was common courtesy for an incoming Collector to give the local branch a heads up if they were going to be in the area, but this wasn’t exactly an on-the-books Collection. And as much as he wanted to see Minka, to finally get the chance to explain, he didn’t need the SCC breathing down his neck.
A quick in and out. Find Blackwell and do whatever was necessary to make him spill the location of Caleb’s remains. Then Gage could give his brother a proper burial and be back in New York City, ready for his next Collection, before anyone was the wiser.
Including the woman who still held his heart.
Minka Winslow studied the hand-painted playing card that had been delivered to her only a few hours ago. The card wasn’t unusual in and of itself. That’s how headquarters sent out Collection information, and in all her days as a Sin City Collector, she’d never gotten mission information any other way. The Boss was quirky that way.
This card just seemed…different. The painting looked a little sloppy. Rushed. It might just be the urgency of the job.
Or maybe she should call her handler. A quick check of the time showed she was five minutes early for the meet. She’d give it ten more. She leaned against the stucco wall, shoved the card into the back pocket of her jeans and tried to wait with a little more patience. She tugged her leather jacket tighter and wrinkled her nose. The alley behind the laundromat smelled of fabric softener and urine.
A noise to her left put her on guard. Someone was coming. She flattened against the wall, her hand instantly going to the blade at her hip. It might just be a street person, but she liked to err on the side of caution.
The figure, a man, put his hands up as he came toward her. His right elbow stayed tucked to his side, holding a small package under his arm. The small, padded envelope looked like it held something long and not too bulky. “Are you Minka? I was supposed to look for a hot blonde.” He grinned, revealing a missing molar. “You’re definitely hot.”
This must be her contact. Regardless, her hand stayed on the blade’s hilt and she ignored his comment. “Yes. Who are you?”
“Just the deliveryman.” He put his hands down and nudged his oddly clean Blue Moon Casino trucker hat up before carefully offering her the package. “This is for you.” His grin stayed in place, but his eyes traveled over her in a way that made her want to shower.
“What is it?”
He shrugged and lifted the package a little higher. “Like I said, I’m just the deliveryman, pretty lady.”
“Who hired you to deliver it?” She let him keep holding the package.
“Some guy with deep pockets. Said he knew you could help him.” The man sighed, his cheery mood gone. “Look, lady, you want the thing or not? I got other places to be.”
She took the envelope. “What’s your name?”
He got twitchy. It was either nerves or he needed his next fix. “The guy said I wouldn’t have to use my name.”
“The fact that you don’t want to give it to me makes me think there’s a reason I shouldn’t trust you.” Trust was a big issue with her. Big. She pulled her blade. “What’s your name?”
His gaze stuck on the weapon. He seemed reasonably impressed with it. “Dave Scabinski. My friends call me Scab.”
Of course they did.
He put his hands up again and backed away. “You got no reason not to trust me. I’m a decent guy. I hang out at Sharkey’s. You can ask around.”
Sharkey’s was a neighborhood pool hall known for cheap beer and loose slots. It attracted a crowd of hardworking, blue-collar locals and generally seemed like an all right place, even if it was a strictly human joint.
She briefly entertained blowing a little pixie dust on him, the truth serum of her kind, but decided against it. It took time and energy to recharge that ability, and she didn’t feel like wasting it on him. She couldn’t go into this job needing a nap either. Instead, she gestured with the blade toward the other end of the alley. “Get out of here.”
With a few mumbled words, he took off. She squeezed the envelope. Something hard and slender inside. A quick glance in both directions confirmed she was alone. She stuck the envelope inside her jacket and headed back to her car.
Once in the driver’s seat with the door locked, she tore the envelope open and looked at the contents. A slim, faceted glass vial and a note. She pulled the vial out and studied the green liquid inside. Nothing she could immediately identify. She dumped the envelope over to shake the note free.
Holding the vial in one hand, she read the note.
I’ve been told you can help me identify the maker of this love potion. You’re my only hope. I will pay handsomely. A phone number followed.
A love potion. This was her Collection? She snorted softly. Love. Love was for fools, something she’d learned the hard way. She tucked the note between her leg and the seat. There were a couple of witches in the Sin City Collectors who could probably whip up a love potion, but that didn’t mean she’d be able to identify who’d made this batch. She tipped the vial, watching a bubble travel through the viscous liquid. There was no label or marking. Nothing to indicate its origin.
She righted it and wiggled the cork free. Maybe smelling the contents would give her some idea if it was plant-based. That might be an indicator as to who’d concocted it. As soon as the cork was out, a thin stream of vapor curled up from the vial’s throat. Potent stuff, apparently. She leaned in, but not too close, and took a whiff.
Like almonds, but sweet and…and…
Her head spun, and the edges of her vision blurred. She tried to push the cork back into the opening, but her fingers were slow and her body wouldn’t respond to her commands. The vial fell from her hands and onto the floor mat. The green liquid
trickled out as the vapors filled her car.
She groped for it, her movements sluggish and her thoughts getting harder to process. She slumped over the console, unable to move more than to twitch her fingers or blink her eyes. What little consciousness she had left registered a dark shape outside her car.
Then the last bit of her hold on reality gave way into…nothing.
Outside Gage’s plane window, the lights of the Vegas airport broke through the darkness. He pulled the shade down. Forty-five minutes to sunrise, but the itch of the coming dawn had already taken over his skin. He was used to it. Wasn’t the kind of vampire who got panicky either. He’d have never made it in the Collectors if he was. Nothing to worry about anyway. Everything was in place. The hired car, the suite on the Strip. One of the best perks about casinos was lots and lots of windowless space, although he wouldn’t be here long enough to enjoy that one.
The plane touched down, and his first thought was how close he was to Minka again. He shook his head. Those kinds of thoughts weren’t going to help him accomplish what he’d come to do.
His only goal was to lie low until sundown, then head to the address on the note card at the appropriate time. And then, if the info was right, he’d soon see Blackwell face-to-face again. A chime sounded in the plane, letting passengers know they could get out of their seats. First class was a great way to travel, especially for someone of his size, but in cases like this, it also got him off the plane first. Important when time was of the essence.
Bag in hand, he flipped his collar up, put his sunglasses on and headed toward the pickup area. A man in a simple black suit held a sign that read W.G. Hudson. Gage gave the man a nod. “I’m Hudson.”
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