Kitty and the Dead Man's Hand Page 6

  Back at our room, Ben was sitting on the edge of the bed looking shell-shocked. He leaned forward on his knees, his hands dangling, staring at the wall with way too much concentration. He was thinking awfully hard about something. He acknowledged my arrival with a glance.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  He straightened, and the studious expression grew even more intent, like he was trying to figure out how to explain something. “That poker game I played? It turned out to be kind of. . . interesting.”

  We weren’t even married yet and I could already recognize the tone of guilt. I sat next to him on the bed. “How much did you lose?”

  “That’s just it,” he said. Now his brow furrowed, confused. He’d failed to figure out how to explain this. “I won.”

  My eyes bugged. “You what? Oh my God. That’s great!” I had visions of him winning enough to pay for the wedding and then some. All those Vegas dreams come true. I sat down next to him. “So you can take me out to a really nice dinner, right?”

  He held my hand. “That’s just the thing, it was a fifty-dollar buy-in satellite tournament. I haven’t won any money yet, but I did win a spot in Saturday’s tourney. First place is half a million.”

  I was glad I was sitting down. “You’re a poker genius. I had no idea.”

  “I’m not,” he said. “I can usually break even in a home game. I did this on a whim, because it was a way to play a lot of poker for not too much money. I’d lose the fifty bucks, then walk away. But I didn’t lose.”

  “So you got lucky. That’s great.” But there was more to it than that, or he wouldn’t be sitting here looking like he’d been hit on the head with a hammer.

  He shook his head. “No. There was. . . something. I could read people. Totally read them. I knew what they were going to do, I could tell when they were bluffing. Everything. And I was never wrong.”

  “So you got suddenly, conveniently psychic?”

  He looked at me, and this time he smiled, a sneaky, wry smile. “I could smell it. I could hear their heartbeats speed up. Sense their muscles twitch when they squeezed their cards just a little harder. It was. . . incredible. Amazing. That’s part of poker, you always look for tells, you try to hide your own. But these are things most people wouldn’t even be aware of, much less be able to hide. And I could sense them all.”

  “It’s the wolf. The wolf sensed all that.”

  “It was like hunting,” he said.

  I knew exactly what he was talking about. As wolves, we hunted. Every full moon we went into the wild and searched for prey. Our senses—smell, hearing, taste—let us follow the smallest track, let us know when a rabbit flinched before it ran. Our human selves retained some of those senses.

  Apparently, Ben had used those senses to win at poker.

  “That’s really funny,” I said.

  “I know, I almost gave the whole thing away by cracking up at the table. I think the other players wrote it off to my being a crazy tourist with an incredible winning streak.”

  “Well, congratulations. Hey, wait a minute—you said the tournament’s Saturday? What time on Saturday?”

  Now he really looked like he’d tasted something sour. “Two p.m.”

  The same time as the wedding. That didn’t quite register. He was ditching our wedding for poker?

  He talked fast. “I already called the chapel, they can move us to six p.m. It’s just a couple of hours. If it’s okay with you. Is it okay? I’m really sorry. Kitty—say something.”

  If this was happening to someone else, it would be funny. Let that be a lesson. I leaned over and kissed him, muffling his next sentence. He blinked in surprise. Nice to see I could still keep him on his toes. Then he put his arms around me, like a good boyfriend.

  “You’re not angry?” he said, when we came up for air.

  I draped my arms over his shoulders. “I could get angry and look like a petty, spoiled girlfriend, or I can deal with it. I’ll deal with it. Because hey, if you have a chance to win half a million, who am I to argue a little thing like a wedding? But I might make you explain it to my mother.”

  “I’m probably not even going to win. I’m sure I won’t even last that long. I’ll be out of the running in the first half hour. Then I’m all yours.”

  “You’re already all mine. I’m just loaning you out for a little while.” I tightened my embrace around him, pulled myself close until I straddled him, and kissed him as I tipped him back on the bed.

  We were a little late heading out for dinner.

  Chapter 6

  I’d made reservations at the steakhouse at the Napoli, supposedly one of the best in Vegas. My tastes weren’t that refined—a good steak was a good steak, but I appreciated a good rare steak a lot more now than I did before becoming a werewolf.

  The real reason we were going there was so I could talk to Dominic, Master vampire of Las Vegas, after dinner. I hadn’t told Ben that part yet. I was waiting for the right moment. Funny how I hadn’t quite found the right moment yet.

  Ben had pulled out his polished mode, very GQ in a suit and power tie. I wore a knee-length flowery, flowing skirt, a red fitted blouse, and heels. I left my hair down. We both cleaned up pretty good.

  The Napoli was a couple of blocks down the Strip, and we decided to walk, thinking the fresh evening air would be nice. Ha. I had thought the night would be more cool and pleasant that the day had been. That was how the summer climate worked in Colorado. But here the heat only cooled from “excruciating” to “barely tolerable.”

  Now that it was dark I discovered that Erica was right about the vampires.

  I could smell vampires in casinos and bars, even walking on the street outside. Not a lot of them, and not all together, but they were everywhere, scattered here and there. A woman sitting at a bar, a man surveying a set of blackjack tables, another woman attached to a high roller at the craps table, blowing on his dice for luck and gazing at him with hungry eyes. I could smell them, cold islands in seas of living, sweating, breathing people.

  They were looking for prey. A drunk businessman at a trade show might not even remember the sultry brunette taking him back to his room—then biting his neck. Vampires didn’t have to kill when they took blood, and I was guessing they didn’t. For all its lurid reputation, Vegas didn’t have one as a murder capital, CSI notwithstanding. Bad for tourism. And the vampires knew that.

  They fed on the tourists just like everyone else in this town.

  I didn’t smell any other lycanthropes. I thought I might, but I couldn’t blame others of my kind for staying out of this mess, the crowds and the constant feeling of near-panic. Maybe I had this sense of being overwhelmed not because I was new to town, but because I was a werewolf. Maybe it never went away. Lycanthropes didn’t like it, so they stayed out.

  A couple of times, the vampires we passed paused and looked at us, following me and Ben with their gazes. Each time, I looked back to see their eyes widen in mild surprise. Like they weren’t used to seeing werewolves around here.

  “First the gun show and now vampires,” Ben whispered at me as we entered the Napoli lobby. “Vegas isn’t supposed to be this creepy.”

  “So you admit it. The gun show is creepy.”

  “The vampires are creepy,” Ben said. “The gun show is just a gun show.”

  “I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about which of those is creepier,” I said. And now was definitely not the moment to bring up visiting Dominic.

  The decor at the Napoli was faux Italian Renaissance. Ceiling paintings of pastel cherubs and women in flowing togas arced overhead: gold and crystal chandeliers dripped light over red marble tiles. Through an archway resting on Ionic pillars lay the casino with a billion more flashing lights and clanking slots and electronic poker machines. In the middle of the islands of slots, marble fountains dripped water, which sparkled in the chaos of lights. The whole place screamed wealth and decadence. And all this could be yours, with a little luck.
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  On the way to the restaurant, we walked past one of the casino bars, where a woman accosted us. Or rather me, because she clearly hurried straight for me after spotting me across the room. She’d been leaning on a ledge to show off the cleavage revealed by her low-cut dress to the two men she was talking with. She abandoned them when she spotted me, however.

  She was a vampire. It wasn’t just her pale skin, when every other woman of fashion had a bronze patina. She smelled cold and undead. I could smell a vampire across a room, and she was it.

  “Speak of the devil,” Ben muttered, an anxious edge to his voice. His hand closed around mine.

  Suddenly feeling cornered, I braced at her approach, looking around for an escape route. I was already tired of feeling panicked. If nothing else, we could bolt into the casino area. Nobody could do anything with a crowd of people and a million security cameras watching, right? Through Ben’s hand I could feel him tense, probably thinking the same thing.

  Then she said, “Oh my God, are you really Kitty Norville?” She gave Ben a quick, awkward glance of acknowledgment, but all her attention focused on me.

  Wait a minute. She was beaming, an unabashed smile lighting up her whole face. She’d recognized me, and she was a fan. Vampires were part of my audience, too, after all.

  Smirking, Ben dropped my hand.

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “That’s pretty good, spotting me across the room like that.”

  “I’m such a big fan of your show, I knew you were going to be in Vegas, but I didn’t think I’d actually see you walking across the lobby like a normal person. Are you staying here? I’m totally going to be at the show tomorrow, I can’t wait.”

  She was almost bouncing. I’d never seen a vampire get this enthusiastic about anything. Most of them cultivated an attitude of arrogant detachment. She probably hadn’t been a vampire long.

  I couldn’t help but smile. This really was flattering. For the first year or so of my show, no one knew what I looked like. I was still getting used to the public-notoriety thing. “Thanks a lot. I really appreciate the support. What’s your name?”

  “Lisa,” she said, offering her hand to shake, which I did. It was cold.

  “Nice to meet you. It’ll be good to see a familiar face during the show tomorrow.”

  “Oh, this is so cool, I’m bringing everyone I know.”

  Aw, she was adorable. I beamed right back at her. “Lisa, I’m sorry, we have reservations and really should be going.”

  “Oh, of course, I don’t mean to interrupt. Have a really good time, okay?” We all said goodbye, and she went back to her quarry.

  “That was kind of surreal,” Ben said. He was still smirking.

  “See,” I said. “Vampire, but not creepy. Sylvia sneaking up on me outside the gun show? That was creepy.”

  He just chuckled.

  It turned out the Napoli steakhouse did serve an excellent rare steak, with a fabulous cabernet, topped off with a chocolate raspberry torte for dessert. His expression amused, Ben watched me devour this orgasmic dish. “You know why I really want to marry you? You’re so easy to please.”

  “My needs are simple,” I said, licking every last crumb of chocolate off my fork.

  “So, does that mean it’s time to head back to the hotel room, maybe address a few other simple needs? Not to mention getting away from all these people.” He glanced suggestively at the doorway. Even amid all the meat and chocolate, I could smell the hormones and knew what he was thinking.

  Damn. This was probably the right moment to tell him about Dominic. Not that I had any choice now.

  I tried to smile sweetly, but it probably came off looking guilty. “Actually, I have an errand here first. That’s kind of why I picked this place for dinner.”

  “Ah. And what kind of errand?”

  “It isn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t take long at all.” I avoided looking at him, folding and refolding the napkin on my lap instead.

  “All right. But what is it?”

  I winced. “Rick wants me to meet the Master vampire here, who just happens to own the Napoli. I know, I should have told you. But we were having such a good time, and it never came up.”

  Ben’s smile grew very icy indeed. “Vampire crap. You’re running errands for Rick.”

  “It’s a favor, not an errand.”

  “You just called it an errand.”

  I sighed. “I know, I’m sorry. But I just hand the guy Rick’s note and then we’re done.”

  “I hate vampires. You know that, right?”

  I did. I couldn’t really blame him, but then I had more vampire friends than he did. Rather, he had no vampire friends at all. “Rick’s not bad.”

  “Rick almost got us both killed when he took over Denver.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “Look, you don’t have to come along if you don’t want to. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Maybe you can kill time in the casino.” He seemed to be pretty good at that.

  “Do you want me to come?” he said.

  “Yeah, I kind of do.” We were a pack; I’d feel better with him at my side.

  “Then let’s go and get this over with.”

  We made our way out, walking side by side, our arms just brushing. “I should have told you earlier. I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t say anything but took my hand and squeezed it. Grateful for the contact, I squeezed back.

  Not knowing how else to go about seeing Dom, I asked at the front desk of the hotel. I was working on assumptions about a system I didn’t know very much about. Despite recent publicity, most of the city Masters still preferred to stay hidden. Among themselves, however, they had a network. They seemed to know each other and communicated with each other. Didn’t mean they were all friendly. In fact, there seemed to be factions. That was the part I didn’t understand too well.

  I found a clerk at the desk. “May I speak to your manager? It’s nothing serious, I promise,” I added quickly at the young woman’s stricken expression.

  After a moment, another young woman, this one more poised, balanced perfectly on high heels and wearing an armorlike smile, approached from the back. “I’m the duty manager this evening. Is there a problem?”

  “No, not at all. It’s just that I have a message for Dom. Dominic. I was hoping to see him this evening. Do you have any way of letting him know I’m here?”

  Her eyes went wide, like the other clerk’s had done. Couldn’t blame her. When a stranger walked up and asked to see the owner of the place, it had to be a shock. If not an outright joke. The least Rick could have done was given me a phone number.

  “May I get your name?” she said.

  “I’m Kitty Norville. Can you tell him I have a message from Rick in Denver?”

  “Please wait just a moment,” She disappeared into the back.

  We spent five minutes in silence watching crowds walk past us through the lobby to the casino. Mostly tourists, starry-eyed couples of every age. A few jaded business-suit types passed by, not sparing a glance for the decor, as well as a few who could only be high rollers, both men and women wearing lots of jewelry and flashy clothing, trailed by bellhops pushing baggage carts. One couple walked by: an aura of sleaze followed the guy, who looked unassuming enough in a dark gray suit. He had a round, serious face and trimmed dark hair. The woman on his arm appeared far too young and far too thin, and she wore five-inch heels and a tiny, tiny black dress with a skirt up to here and one sleeve hanging off the shoulder. Straight out of a movie. If I hadn’t seen the stereotype for myself I wouldn’t have believed it.

  “Don’t judge,” Ben said. “Maybe she’s his sister.”

  I stared at him, brows raised. He chuckled.

  The manager returned and offered a key card. “Take this to the elevator. It’ll give you access to the penthouse. Dom said he’s looking forward to meeting you.”

  Well, wasn’t this fancy? “Thanks.”

  “Just hand him the note, right? He offers us drinks,
I’m out of there,” Ben said.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I said, tugging at his arm.

  Inside the gold and mirror-lined elevator, I slotted the key card, and it chimed a merry green light at me. Then the car zipped straight up. I was simultaneously excited and uneasy. How cool was it getting invited to the penthouse suite of a Vegas tycoon? But then, he was a vampire. If he offered us his kind of drinks, I’d be fleeing with Ben.

  When the elevator doors slid open, I expected to see more of the Renaissance opulence the rest of the hotel boasted. Here, though, the decor was much more understated. We stepped into a foyer with a polished floor, wood paneling, and soft lighting. A large glass table held a black vase of white roses. The room spoke of wealth, but restrained and tasteful instead of out of control.

  A man in his early forties, strong-jawed and handsome, with short, dark hair, graying a little, emerged from the room beyond the foyer. He wore a dark, long-sleeved shirt and gray slacks. Collar pressed, shoes polished. He might have been any businessman in any upscale setting. He had a winning smile, and he smelled cold.

  He walked straight toward us, too quickly, too eager. Ben and I stood shoulder to shoulder, a step away from a defensive posture—the wolves’ reaction. The vampire didn’t seem to notice his effect on us.

  “You’re Kitty?” he said in a flat, unplaceable American accent. “I’m Dom. It’s great to meet you. And—”

  “This is Ben,” I said.

  Dom put out his hand to shake ours, which he did enthusiastically. I was a little off balance with his enthusiasm.

  He regarded us, seeming awfully pleased. “The alpha werewolves of Denver. What an honor. Can I invite you to my living room for a drink?” Ben raised a brow at me, and I winced. “I have a bar—liquor, soda, beer, whatever. Nothing spooky, I promise.” His smile showed a bit of fang.

  I sighed. “Sure. We can stay for a few minutes.”

  Dom might have seemed laid-back, but he was still a vampire and still had an entourage, though it stayed hidden. I caught a glimpse of a man in a dark suit, with short cropped hair and a hard glare. He stayed at the edges of the room and ducked back as we passed by. A bodyguard, I was sure. Just in case Ben and I tried something. Yeah, right. Hadn’t even crossed my mind.