Luscious Craving (12 page)

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Authors: Cameron Dean

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: Luscious Craving
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I made the quick trip to my bedroom, pushed back the bedcovers, and fell into bed, facedown. Too tired to even pull the covers around me, I had one final thought: With any luck, I wouldn’t dream at all this time.

Seven

“There’s the bad news, and then there’s the bad news,” I said the following day. Al
Manelli
and I were in his private office. I had slept late, but once I was up and going I had headed straight for the
Sher
and Al. He needed to be told what I had discovered. I had also tried to reach
Bibi
. No answer. Just as soon as I’d shared what I had overheard with Al, finding
Bibi
was my top priority.

“Just tell me what you know,” Al said now.

“To tell you the truth, it’s not much,” I said. “But it looks as if you were right to follow up on rumors of a con. Something is definitely set for New Year’s Eve. The guys I overheard discussing this were vamps, so we also have to figure vampires are involved somehow.”

Al was silent for a moment, worrying his lower lip. “Do you know who they are?”

“Yes, and no,” I replied. Quickly, I filled him in on what I knew about the Bat Pack. Al’s eyebrows rose sky high.

“Now, I’ve heard everything,” he said. “Still…” He drummed his fingers against the top of his desk. “It’s not much to go on.”

“I’ll go back to my sources, see if they can find out more,” I offered. “I may have to step back just a little here, Al.” I didn’t like saying this, but it was the truth and he had a right to know. “I’ve had one encounter with these guys already and it was pretty memorable. I don’t want to press my luck.”

I was not going to tell Al how close I had come to getting roughed up.

“Do what you think is best,” Al said at once. “Meantime, I guess we just have to sit tight, see if they make a move.”

“Not my favorite choice for a plan,” I said sourly. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

Leaving Al’s office, I checked my watch. It was one p.m.
Bibi
should be at dance rehearsal by now. She’s the featured dancer in the New Year’s Eve show. I turned my steps toward the dance studios. Like everything else in the employee area of the
Sher
, the hallways in the back of the house all look pretty much alike. Narrow corridors, painted off-white, they were well-marked with abbreviations that corresponded to use.
Convention storage.
Casino machine storage.
Laundry.
I turned into the hall that led to the back of the theater. And I realized I wasn’t alone.

Instantly, my senses went on full alert. There was someone else down here, someone deliberately trailing along behind.
Somebody human, at least.
I didn’t feel any vampire cold. I turned down an intersecting hallway. The footsteps stayed with me, a little closer now. I glanced back, but still didn’t see anyone. I stopped. The footsteps stopped. I started walking again and I heard the footsteps once more. Then, as if from nowhere, I felt a hand on my right shoulder. I reacted with all the adrenaline that had been building up. Stepping back, I stomped hard on my attacker’s instep. I heard a grunt of pain as he released me. I grabbed his arm, ducked under it, and twisted it at the same time as I slammed him against the wall.

Sunglasses popped off his head. A bunch of credit cards clattered onto the tile floor. A single poker chip bounced,
then
rolled to a stop next to my foot. I ignored them, staring at my prisoner.

“Michael!” I choked out.

“Is this some sort of Vegas greeting?” he asked in a strained voice. “Couldn’t I learn the secret handshake instead?”

“What are you doing down here? This is supposed to be employees only.”

“Take your fist out of my gut, and I’ll tell you.”

I stepped back, lowering my hands to my sides.

“You didn’t mention that you were a black belt,” Michael muttered, gingerly straightening up.

“I’m not,” I said, backpedaling like mad. “The
Sher
gives all their cocktail waitresses basic classes in self-defense. I really am sorry, Michael. You startled me, is all.”

“Want to try it again? I can take you two out of three, I’m sure.” He eased away from the wall and bent down to collect his things.

“Let me help,” I said, kneeling down and picking up the poker chip. It wasn’t from the
Sher
; it didn’t have the genie’s lamp logo.

“Thanks,” he said, pocketing it. “That’s my lucky chip. Someday, if you’re a good girl, I’ll tell you where I got it.”

“You like it better when I’m a bad girl,” I answered, reaching for his sunglasses and glanced quickly at the opaque lenses. “They don’t look broken.”

“Good thing. I need them for the game—to keep
my tells
to a minimum.” He smiled, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. “A pro poker player can guess by an eyebrow’s motion or eyes widening what cards someone else has.
So we all do what we can to hide ‘tells’—those little body reactions.
You know how my face shows everything when I’m feeling good,” Michael added.

“I’ve noticed,” I said with a smile. On impulse, I slid the glasses onto my own face, surprised how much heavier they were than my own shades. But, unlike my barely there wire
frames,
these were broader, made of a thick, black plastic.

He lifted the glasses off and settled them on his own face. “See?”

“I can’t see your eyes at all.”

“Precisely.
I look inscrutable. I’ll bet not even you can tell what I’m thinking.”

“Oh, I have some idea what you’re thinking,” I teased. “But I really
am
sorry,” I repeated.

“Now what do you mean?” Michael said as he began to gather up the plastic cards still lying on the floor.

They weren’t credit cards, I realized, when I saw the hole punched near one corner. Emblazoned with the
Sher’s
name and genie’s lamp logo, they were what the marketing department called Magic Carpet Cards. Like all casinos along the Strip, the
Sher
wanted to make it as enticing to gamble as possible. The cards are for frequent bettors. The longer someone played and the more he or she bet, the more points were added onto the card. The points could then be traded in for comps at shops or at restaurants in the casino.

“Why do you have so many Magic Carpet Cards?” I inquired.

“I got them to hand out to my friends,” Michael said happily. “While I’m playing poker, they’re going to hit the slots and tables. With the points they get, I plan to take you out for a special dinner on New Year’s Eve.” He paused.
“If you don’t have other plans.”

I gave an inward wince. “I have to work New Year’s Eve. Everyone in the casino pulls long shifts that night.”

“I can wait. When I win the tournament, I’ll bribe your boss to give you the rest of the night off.”

We both stood up. “My boss can’t be bribed.”

“Five million bucks can buy a lot of goodwill.”

I smoothed the front of his shirt. “And you really believe you’ll win it all?”

“Why not?
I told you, I’m a lucky guy.” He grinned at me. “Lucky you didn’t break half my ribs. But I’ve learned my lesson. Next time, I’ll scream my name whenever I get within ten feet of you.”

“I told you I’d make you scream.” I smiled. “Are you going back to the tournament now?”


Mmm
hmm.”
He nodded. “I played all night. That’s why I haven’t called.”

I ran a hand through his hair. “That’s all right. But we can’t have you all mussed up in front of the cameras.” I slid my hand down his chest, all the way to his belt, pretending to straighten his shirt. “Think about the effect on your TV audience.”

He drew in a quick breath. Cupping my chin, he kissed me, hard. A kiss that told me the same thought was flashing through his mind: Could we?
Right here?
Not a good idea, I pulled away from him and tried to get myself under control.

“I better go. I don’t want to miss my chance to get the five million to bribe your boss.” He slid one hand down my back to caress my butt.

“You know how to get where you need to go?” I asked.

He gave a spurt of laughter as he stepped back.
“Oh, yeah.
I think so.”

The door to the dance studio stood ajar, and music filtered out into the hall. One thing I could count on,
Bibi
never missed rehearsal. Dancing is her life. Several dancers waved to me as I entered. They were in the middle of a sequence of impossibly high kicks. I watched and checked out the line.

No
Bibi
. I felt a trickle of unease snake down my spine.

She usually danced between Jennifer and Jennifer. Actually there were four
Jennifers
among the twenty dancers, all from the
Midwest
. No wonder
Bibi
claimed the title of premiere Jewish showgirl in Vegas. Everyone else was from the
Corn Belt
. I looked around the room, using the mirrored wall to help me.
The director, the rehearsal pianist, the dancers.

No
Bibi
. Not anywhere.

Before I could go after information myself, Jennifer—the one who danced on
Bibi’s
left—came over.

“Did
Bibi
tell you that she wouldn’t be here today?” she asked before I could say anything.

I shook my head. “No. She didn’t show up?
Not at all?”

Jennifer wiped her face with a towel and shrugged.
“Nope.
Anybody else, I’d say she got lucky, but you know
Bibi
…” Her voice trailed off.

“Thanks, Jennifer,” I said. “Let me give her a call,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even. “Maybe she overslept.”

“Until now?”

Hurrying back out into the hall, I opened my phone. Not enough signal.
If I went up to the ground floor and…

Stop kidding yourself, Candace
, I thought.
Bibi
wasn’t answering because she wasn’t there. She never made it home from the vampire club.

Moments later, I was walking through the casino, the incessant ringing of the slots battering my eardrums. I had to find
Bibi
, and I didn’t have the faintest idea where to start. There wasn’t any point in going to Taste. Not at this hour. The club would be shut up tighter than a drum.

The thought of
Bibi
taken by vampires literally made me ill. I could only pray that she was still alive. If not for me, she would never have been drawn into their world in the first place.
This is all your fault, Candace
, I thought.

There’s a coffee bar at the back of the casino. I knew I could sit there, get my head on straight, without being hassled. I made for it. I was halfway there when my cell phone vibrated. I snatched it off my hip, not even bothering to check the number.


Bibi
, is that you?” I said into the phone. “Where are you? Are you all right?”

“Turn around.”

The voice wasn’t
Bibi’s
, but it was one I knew almost as well. Slowly, I did as the voice requested. I turned around.
Desperately trying to keep my breathing steady, my face from betraying emotion of any kind.
Even though the blood was singing in my veins, pounding inside my head.

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