Luscious Craving (3 page)

“What the fuck?”

“Watch your language. There’s a lady present,” I snapped. He bucked, but I held him down. With my free hand, I slowly slid one of the silver stakes from my hair. The vampire went still at once. I pointed the sharp end toward his face, brought it down, stopping less than a quarter inch from his right eye.

“You know what this is?” I asked. “You know what it can do to you? I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes!” he
said,
his voice high and tight with panic. “I know. I know.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use it, you bloodsucking ass-pincher.”

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute,” he squawked. “I know something.”

I smiled. “So do
I
,” I said. “I know lots of things. What can you possibly know that would induce me to spare your miserable existence?”

“There’s a con set to go down,” he was babbling like an infant now.
“A big one.
It’s going to ruin your tournament and the casino. I can tell you all about it. You have to let me go.”

I changed the angle of the spike, brought it down to nick his cheek. He gave a hiss of pain as the skin where the silver had touched turned dead white and began to flake off.

“Tell me now.”

“Okay, okay!” he choked out. “It’s high-tech, real cutting-edge stuff.”

I gave a snort. “That much, even I know. Everything around here is high-tech. That’s how casinos run. There isn’t an inch of the casino floor that’s not under observation from every angle you can imagine.”

As a matter of fact, somebody somewhere is probably catching me on tape right now. I was going to have to speak to Al about that. I brought the spike closer, an eighth of an inch from the vamp’s eye this time.

“That’s not enough, and we both know it. Give me more.”

“New Year’s Eve.
It’s set to go down on New Year’s Eve, the final game of the poker tournament. That’s all I know. I swear to God.”

I stared down at him for a moment, battling my own desire to stake the
sonofabitch
and be done with it. But I had the feeling he was telling the truth. And if I took this vamp out, I would be breaking my own vow.
High-level vamps, human bloodsuckers only.
Anything else was just too risky. I had been incredibly stupid to let my temper get the best of me in the first place, as a matter of fact. I had tipped my hand to the fact that I could tell a human from a vampire. I could only hope he was so terrorized that revealing the secret would never be in his best interests.

I pulled the stake away, stood up, stepped back, and motioned for the vampire to follow suit. He did so slowly, as if expecting me to pounce, to change my mind.

“This meeting never happened. Have you got that straight?” I asked. “We both walk away, forget all about it. But you come into my casino
again,
my memory will make a miraculous recovery. Are we all clear about what will happen then?”

He nodded.

“Good,” I said. “Now get out.”

I pointed down the stairs. The vampire hesitated for about two seconds,
then
took off like a shot. I waited until I heard the door yank open,
then
slam behind him before I tucked the stake back into my hair and picked up my tray.

I had to get to Al
Manelli’s
office.

The security office is on public display, not far from hotel registration and the main entrance, there to show guests that nothing is going to happen to them, or their winnings, while they’re at the casino.

I knocked and Al opened the door slightly, then wider.

“I’ve been wondering when you would show up.”

“I hope you snagged that tape,” I said.

He nodded as he closed the door behind me.
“Already on it.
So, Nerves,” he said, as I plopped down into his one and only guest chair. “Care to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Nerves is
Al’s nickname for me.
Short for Nerves of Steele.
Al
Manelli
looks exactly like his name suggests: short and powerful as a fireplug. The truth is
,
he looks just like a mob enforcer. The rest of the truth is that he’s got a big soft marshmallow for a heart. He’s a great guy, and an even better boss.

“I’m sorry about what just happened, Al,” I said. “I’m really sorry. But I did learn something you might want to know.”

Quickly, I explained my interview with the vampire. I kept to the facts, not discussing my own lapse in judgment and poise.

“You don’t look too surprised,” I said when I had finished.

Al gave a sour laugh. “That’s because I’m not. There’ve been rumors about a con at the tournament from the very beginning. Randolph and I have done our best to keep them quiet. They’re probably rumors, nothing more.”

“But you don’t know that for sure,” I prompted.

“No. No, I don’t. You know, sometimes I wish Clooney and company had gotten caught robbing the
Bellagio
and been slapped in jail at the end of
Ocean’s Eleven
. Maybe that would keep all these idiots from trying to knock over casinos.”

“You’re taking this threat seriously,” I said. “Why?”

“Well, I pretty much have to, don’t I?” Al replied. “Big celebrity tournament, broadcast all over the country. Something goes south anytime during it, and the
Sher
would never recover.
Particularly not if it happens on New Year’s Eve.”

“So what are you doing about it?”

“Increased security presence on the casino floor,” Al said at once. “But I must admit, what you’ve just told me does add a new wrinkle. One I can’t say I like very much.”

“That would make two of us,” I replied. “But it’s not very likely vampires would be directly involved in the con itself, Al. It’s just not their usual style.
Way too high visibility.”

“Under normal circumstances, I agree,” Al responded. “But I don’t think I can afford to leave any stone unturned here, Candace. Maybe we should follow up on the fact that this vamp knew something.

“Scout around a little,” Al suggested. “See if you can find out if the bloodsuckers really are involved. And you might check in with Chet McGuire in IT. He’ll be able to fill you in on the tech end of things, the security system in particular.”

“Chet McGuire. Information technology,” I said.
“Got it.
Meantime, I’m off the floor?”

“After tonight, yes,” Al nodded. “For tonight, I want you to stay in the casino, see if anything else shakes out. After that, try whatever other sources you have to. The No-Limits tournament is a very big deal, Candace. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.”

“Where have I heard that before?” I murmured, as I got to my feet. “I’ll do my best, Al.”

“I know you will,” Al
Manelli
said. “That’s why I watch your back. But you need to watch yourself. I saw you in that stairwell, Candace. You looked pretty damn close to losing control.”

“It won’t happen again, Al,” I said. “Believe me when I say that’s the last thing I want.”

“I do,” Al
Manelli
said. “Now get out there and find out what we need to know.”

I returned to the floor, feeling shaken by what I wasn’t willing to admit to Al. I had done more than come close in that stairwell. For a few desperate seconds, I
had
been out of control.
Furious with every single vampire in the world.
Furious with myself.
And all because a dream had shown me a truth I didn’t want to face.

I could hate every single vampire on the planet, and it wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good. Not as long as I was still in love with one.

Three

Vampires and a con at the
Sher
.
Now there was a combination made in Hell.
Also one that didn’t make a whole lot of sense.
As I had said to Al, it was just too high profile. Not only
that, vampires aren’t
really into high-tech toys. They much prefer their own mind games to any electronically induced ones. Best-case scenario therefore: My instincts were right. Al’s were wrong. And I would essentially end up with the week between Christmas and New Year’s off.

Meantime, my shift was finally over. A recharge of the mind/body batteries was definitely in order. I needed caffeine and food, in that order. That meant Ma’s Original Diner. Neither Ma nor the
diner are
, in fact, original. But by Vegas standards, where things are built, torn down, only to be rebuilt and torn down half a dozen times more, the place practically qualified as a historic landmark.

“Morning, Candace!” Ma called from behind the red-speckled laminate counter as I came in the door. She could have been forty or sixty. Her face was unlined, her hair a dull gray.
“Coffee?”

I nodded but didn’t smile as I glanced along the narrow counter.
Well, shit
, I thought. It appeared that I was going to have a Goldilocks moment. Somebody was sitting in
my
chair.
Or on my stool, to be precise.

A tourist, no less.
Now, instead of my favorite spot, I was going to have to settle for the one next to it, the one with silver duct tape all over the top.

I stomped past the tourist, glaring behind his back as I went. Ma gave me a commiserating shrug. I plopped down onto the stool from Hell, glanced at the guy’s plate. It looked pretty good. So did
he
.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” I told Ma.

The tourist who’d stolen my chair had a tight, wiry build that seemed to radiate energy. His face was narrow, but he had wide, whiskey-colored eyes. His chin carried just the hint of a shadow, as if he, too, had been up all night. Right in the center was a cleft. I’m a total sucker for those. I kept my eyes on his as I watched him assess me.
Now here was a guy on the make
, I thought. Usually, guys like this totally turn me off. This morning was a different story. Maybe it was all the adrenaline running in my system, a combination of my dream of Ash and the encounter with the vampire. Or maybe it was those whiskey-and-soda eyes. Either way, I could already feel my body pitching its case to my head.

Give yourself a holiday, Candace. Go with the flow.

“We could share,” the guy finally said, and I found that I liked his voice.
Deep and ever so slightly rough-edged.
It suited the rest of him just fine. “There’s enough to go around.”

I let my tongue flick out to touch my lower lip, as if fantasizing about what the food would taste like, watched his eyes widen, and felt a little tingle of anticipation skitter along my spine. All of a sudden, I wasn’t pissed off anymore. Instead, I was having fun.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I usually have a pretty big appetite. Besides, I don’t even know you.”

“I can fix that,” he said at once. He offered a hand, and I placed mine into it. His grip was firm, his hand and fingers ever so slightly calloused. “Michael Pressman,” he said. “Call me Mike and suffer the unfortunate consequences.”

“I’ll remember that,” I said with a smile. “I’m Candace Steele. You even think about calling me Candy and same goes.”

“There, you see?” Michael said. “Now we’re old pals.”