WILD CARDS
Wild Cards
Katalina Leon
Author’s note: Wild Cards is part of the multi-author series, Charmed in Vegas.
Copyright March 2016
Red Jaguar Press
Supervising Editor: Becky Johnson, Hot Tree Editing.
Content Editor: Liv Ventura, Hot Tree Editing.
Proofreader: Kristin Scearce, Hot Tree Editing.
Cover Art by Andy Atkins aka Jackman.
Copyright 1939. “If I Were King of the Forest” by Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg.
Wild Cards
Charmed in Vegas
Katalina Leon
At Poseidon’s Palace on the Strip, we put the “sin” in casino.
Adara is a curvy croupier and professional empath who’s never fit in to the human world. Being the daughter of a nymph of Venus and a devilish firebrand is complicated enough, but in the land of showgirls, it’s even trickier being shy and always knowing what everyone else is thinking. The poor thing has never even been in love. But thanks to a visit from her fairy godmother, her fate is about to change. Unfortunately, love comes with high stakes.
Paranormal house detective Kai Moana is the son of an Oceanic demigod. This hunk’s a bad boy who’s committed a mighty big transgression on the sea and gotten himself banished to Vegas to do penance. Things heat up when tourists are murdered, buffets are hexed, and hearts are literally ripped out. The crimes scream dark sorcery, and now he has to save Adara’s life before he can get her into his bed.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Bonus Scene
Dedication
This story is dedicated to Michelle Fox, who made the crazy Charmed in Vegas paranormal circus possible. Thank you, Michelle, you’re a dream to work with and I learn something new from you every day.
Chapter One
Poseidon’s Palace Casino and Resort, Las Vegas
Albert Einstein once said, “No one can possibly win at roulette unless he steals money from the table while the croupier isn’t looking.”
Adara Torris was a croupier at Poseidon’s Palace, and she’d be damned before anyone stole from her. Being a gifted empath as well made her the casino’s first line of defense. Her job was to stand sentry in the gambling pit, appearing aloof and inconspicuous while reading the minds of patrons.
Reading was a misleading term. Human thoughts were never crystal clear. Intuiting, or soulscanning, better described her skill set. Her sixth sense unmasked the true intentions behind the coolest poker face. She knew who was cheating, who planned to cheat, who simmered with rage and packed a switchblade in their boot, who was horny and on the prowl, and who was so distracted they’d forgotten to take their prescription medications. Of course, there was much more than that. Dark glasses and a neutral expression hid nothing from her. But that day, something was wonky and since morning, she’d been unable to soulscan anyone.
She walked across the pit with her casino-issued polyester trousers chafing her round thighs. What moron had decided to dress the female croupiers in snug-fitted pseudo-tuxedos that were basically made of plastic and set them loose in a hot desert environment? A sadist, that’s who. Even a quick trip to the parking structure to retrieve her phone from the charger had caused her to work up a sweat. Outdoor temperatures had soared into the triple digits. Even though the casino was comfortably air-conditioned, patrons arrived exhausted and cranky, and it was her job to figure out who might pose a problem. Reluctantly, she took her post at the roulette wheel.
A tinted glass bubble containing a camera clung to the ceiling above her table. The all-seeing eye of the hotel’s security team observed everything from HQ. She fought the impulse to smile or wave at her eccentric boss, Roy, who was no doubt watching.
Calling herself an empath was just a glamorous term for security guard. The casino wasn’t the only beneficiary of her talents. A lot of good had come from her work, as many shadowy activities had crossed her mental radar. Thanks to soulscanning, she’d broken up a criminal ring trafficking underage girls, drug dealers had been jailed, and con artists exposed.
Overall, she was damn proud of her achievements during the past two years of employment at Poseidon’s, but a career as a professional empath could be lonely too. Being too clued in to what others were thinking had consequences, and the repercussions of those consequences took a toll on her personal life. No surprises. No mystery. Little trust.
Actually knowing what men honestly thought would put most women off their lunch.
Worst of all, she’d never been in love. Lust yes, but not true, full-blown, ‘I’m going to kiss the sky’ love. When it was possible to get inside anyone’s head, it was harder to figure out who’s special. Other issues abounded as well. Her pedigree had left her love life challenged, to say the least. At twenty-four, the thought had dawned on her that her situation might never improve.
So there she was, in the glittering heart of Vegas, trying her damnedest to make her unique calling in life work. Some days, Sin City didn’t live up to the hype of being a devil’s playpen of sexy, high-stakes excitement, and today was definitely one of those days. Something in the atmosphere was off—really off. A subtle disturbance brewed inside the casino. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, which was bad news, considering it was her job to know these things.
The casino floor flooded with dozens of seniors freshly released from their tour bus. The crowd ambled along at a leisurely pace, oohing and ahhing at the ornate ocean-inspired décor.
A smartly dressed Barbara Walters look-alike muttered in a scratchy tone, “This place reminds me of my granddaughter’s Little Mermaid bedroom. How much would she love these dolphin columns? To die for!” She clicked a photo with her phone.
Adara signaled the lady with a subtle wave of her hand. “Please, no photography on the gambling floor.”
The woman appeared contrite. “Sorry.”
A cheerful, pewter-haired ringleader of the senior scene, dressed in a psychedelic print caftan, corralled the thrill-seeking AARP members in a semicircle. “Who wants to hit the buffet first?”
Nods and sighs of “Dear God, yes” signaled near unity for her plan. They turned and entered the dining hall.
One man with crimson sunburn covering only half his face and neck broke from the group. Unabashed, he leered at a pretty cocktail waitress dressed in a low-cut blouse and short skirt. His gaze traveled up and down her long legs as he headed straight for the roulette tables.
Adara glanced at her sensible shoes. She knew what was coming next—the big rejection followed by the instant metamorphosis into the invisible woman. It happened all the time. To most people, she barely existed. Except for her naturally red hair, she considered herself a plain Jane among showgirls, but that only explained some of the situation. The fact she wasn’t fully human played a part as well.
The man wavered in front of the two roulette wheels then veered toward her human colleague Shauna, a buxom blonde Barbie doll of a croupier with a toothpaste-ad smile, who stood sentry at her wheel, looking fabulous in her polyester tux.
“Hello, gorgeous.” The sunburned man grinned at Shauna and plunked down a twenty-dollar bill and a five. “I’m betting straight red.” He winked. “Red like your ruby lips. I wonder if I’m going to get lucky.” A string of even lamer attempts to flirt followed.
Shauna shot her a sideways glance as if to say, ‘We have another one.’
She sure did. Every day, Shauna attracted a new admi
rer. Men loved to project their fantasies onto her. Adara wondered what the men would think if they knew Shauna was a divorced mother of three who preferred female company in her bed.
With deft precision, Shauna covered the bet with her chip, spun the wheel, and dropped the ball. The man stared longingly at her cleavage. The tiny white ball circled the top of the wheel then bounced all over the place, plink, plink, plink, but he hardly noticed until it finally came to rest on black.
“Thirty-five black.” Shauna’s voice was sultry. “The house wins.”
The gentleman turned redder. His twenty-five dollars went poof!
Being discreet, Adara tried to tune in to the man’s thoughts. Did he regret playing roulette? No doubt it was a sucker’s game. He likely wanted to be in Shauna’s line of sight and didn’t care if he won or lost. Could he afford to lose the money? Judging by his expensive watch, it appeared he could, which was a good thing. It was a common misconception that croupiers were immune to others’ feelings. It simply wasn’t true that their hearts were hardened. Witnessing someone lose hurt like hell. This bet was only twenty-five bucks, but she’d seen lives ruined, dignity evaporate, and even been afraid for everyone’s safety.
Oddly, she realized, she’d just thought those things about the man but had not actually read his mind. She tried again, this time without looking directly at him, so she wouldn’t give him the creeps. Concentrating, she drew a deep breath and attempted to merge her mind with his. What did he really think?
He set another chip on the line. The wheel whirred. Moments passed. The tiny ball skipped in and out of slots, plink, plink, plink. Naturally, he lost again. No clear images formed. By the time the man asked Shauna if she liked appreciative older gentlemen, she still didn’t know anything about him beyond the obvious.
This was distressing. She’d never been frozen out before. Humans and animals were an open book. Demigods and most every other supernatural entity remained unreadable. For certain this guy was no demigod. Something was very wrong, but what? Full-fledged alarm rose. She abruptly left the table, fanning her face and craving a breath of fresh air.
Glancing at her watch, she saw it was past time for her lunch. With a raised hand, she signaled the pit boss that she was on her break. She strode across the gambling floor, headed for the stairs. A moment alone to regroup was what she needed.
Walking toward the women’s lounge, she looked at the many people she passed, old, young, men and women. A fair cross section of humanity strolled by and yet she was unable to soulscan any of them. Usually, she could skim quite a bit of information from someone with a casual glance but today, nothing. The sensation of psychic silence was numbing. What the hell was going on?
She darted into the women’s lounge. Thankfully, it was empty. No time was wasted getting her ass in front of a bathroom sink so she could look in the mirror. Staring at the glass, she was relieved to see nothing was physically wrong.
Her cheeks were round and cheerful. The whites of her eyes were clear, making the golden-hazel irises all the brighter. Her complexion was a bit flushed but otherwise fair. A tiny crimson splotch on her throat was a surprise, but she blamed it on a bug bite. She smoothed a copper strand back into its hair clip. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the plainest woman in the world. Overall, her appearance was healthy and completely average, which was unexpected considering her mother was a heart-stopping, genuine nymph of Venus.
That was who she needed to talk to. Adara pulled her phone out of her vest and speed-dialed her mom.
Grace picked up on the third ring. “Hello, Dary!” Her mother had a soft, musical voice. “You’re calling during work hours; is everything okay?” A note of hope lifted her tone. “Do you have some good news to share?”
Ever hopeful she’d find romance, her mother worked overtime in the proverbial temple of love. As a devoted disciple of Venus, Grace was generous with her prayers to her patroness in the hope her only daughter might someday find a true love of her own.
She hung her head. “Not the news you want to hear. I know you’ve been doing extra, but it doesn’t seem to have worked. Nothing’s changed in the love department. Maybe the demon in me cancels out the nymph of Venus? Could my human DNA be causing the blockage? Either way, I’m ready to face the fact I might never fall in love.”
“It’s not too late, sweetheart.” No doubt Grace felt a twinge of guilt. After all, it had been her idea to start a family with a demon. “I’ve been doing things differently. Mixing it up with new and better offerings to our goddess of love. Your father started a fresco in her honor. It’s gorgeous and very modern. He’s calling it the rebirth of Venus. I restrung my lyre and I’ve been singing my heart out. Sooner or later, something is going to catch on. You’ll fall in love someday. You’ll see.”
“Mom, that’s not what I want to talk to you about.” Lowering her voice, she glanced around to make sure she was still alone. “Something is going on and it’s strange.”
“Really?” Grace sounded too enthusiastic. “Have you met someone new who’s making you feel strange? Hot-blooded, even agitated? This could be a very positive development. A grand amore’s first salvo.”
Grand amore? Yeah, right. She bit her lip. The only activity she engaged in was a bit of light flirting with a gorgeous fellow employee, but even that went nowhere. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding rude, so I’ll just say it. Mom, be honest, could any of your petitions to Venus have meddled with my empathetic skills? It’s like someone hit the Off switch. I need them On for work.”
“What?” She sounded mortified. “Honey, I’d never do that to you. Besides, love and empathy go together.”
“They should go together, but with me they don’t. They never have. Who knows why? All I know is empathy pays my rent and right now, my psychic screen is blank.”
“Blank, blank?” Grace’s voice rose with concern.
“Yep. I’m in the dark, just taking wild guesses.”
“How long have you been unable to soulscan humans?”
“It started earlier today.”
“Today? Phew! You scared me. One day is nothing to worry about. Are you sure you haven’t fallen in love with someone? Love can make your internal radar go whacky.”
“Empathy is how I function in the world. It’s the part of me that’s most human. You wouldn’t tell someone who’d inexplicably gone blind to calm down and not ask questions. I need to know what’s going on. We have two conventions booked at Poseidon’s and the usual weekend tourists arriving by the busload. I need to be on my game.”
“Sugar, cross my heart, I haven’t done anything that would rob you of your skills. I just want you to be happy. That’s all.”
“I know you do.” It hurt to hear frustration in her mother’s voice. Grace was so kind. She’d never intentionally do wrong.
“Sweetie, I just want you to have the opportunity to experience romantic love, that’s all. Do you want your father and me to visit? It might cheer you up.”
“No!” She panicked and almost shouted into the phone. Things were challenging enough without family dropping by. “I’ll come to you.”
“That’s just as well. Your father is very busy. He’s discovered a new way to glaze pottery. He’s obsessed with his new technique. I told him ceramics are for daylight hours only and he must move his workshop farther into the canyon, or else he’s going to light up the night sky and we’ll have the military knocking on our door again.”
“Tell Dad to be careful. I know how he gets when he’s on a creative streak.”
“Or a destructive one.” A tense beat hung in the air. “I’m only forty-five minutes away. I can drop by for a late lunch?”
“Not today. There’s too much going on.” She glanced at her watch. It would soon be time to get back to the pit. “Maybe I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“Or sooner. Your father and I are going to pack up the RV and deliver his latest ceramic creations to an art gallery in Sedona. We have to drive by anyway,
maybe we’ll just pop in the casino and say hello.”
After stalling, she grumbled, “I’m too busy.”
“We won’t hang around.” Grace smacked her lips and sent a kiss. “Bye, darling. Call me if anything changes.”
She clicked the phone off and slid it into her pocket. Did she want lunch or not? Her stomach flip-flopped and said no; an iced tea or frozen smoothie would be enough. Bending over the sink, she washed her hands, allowing the cool water to run over her wrists. It felt soothing until she noticed a thick pillar of steam rising from the basin and quickly turned the faucet off.
It had happened again. Her body temperature always ran a little hot, but now and then her true nature as a part firebrand surfaced and came on strong. The cool water in the sink came to a boil and evaporated before it could trickle down the drain. Holy crap, this too? Why now? She was in for one hell of a day.
Why couldn’t she have been born human like everybody else? Life would have been so much easier. There wasn’t even a clearly marked label for what she was, let alone a clearly marked place for her in the world. Her father called her a wild card. Always being an outsider and having to hide her many differences from others came at great cost. She longed to blend in or, better yet, be noticed for who she was. The saddest part of being her? The luxury of being surprised by another and growing close remained beyond reach.
Stepping into the corridor, she saw several more tour buses had arrived and unloaded their patrons. People streamed past in droves.
Biting her lip, she attempted to soulscan each new face that crossed her path. Nothing. Right then, she wasn’t even an empath, and what if the skill didn’t return?
An odd tingle trickled down her spine. The tiny hairs on her nape stood. Something in the near vicinity needed her attention, but what? She couldn’t tune in. An eerie mood thickened the air. Headed back to the pit, the muffled pop of gunfire brought her to a halt.
Wild Cards Page 1
