“Not if our every move is going to be tracked by the media,” I answered. “He’s going to cut and run and find someplace else. And then we’re going to have to start tracking him all over again.”
“That’s if you believe he doesn’t want to confront us. I think he does.”
My head snapped back as if I’d just been rear-ended. “What?”
Steve strode out of his room. He’d switched shirts from the white muscle shirt to a cream-colored dress shirt, which he’d tucked into his jeans.
“Nice fit.” He swung his arms from side to side, demonstrating the cut of the shirt. “They got it just right.”
“Just don’t destroy it.” I tossed him one of the cardkeys. “And if you could keep an eye out for and on Peter, I’d appreciate it.”
“He’s old enough to take care of himself.” Steve preened in front of a mirror.
“Humor an old broad. Just be aware of things. I don’t want to hear about a fight on the news.”
“No problem, boss. You kick back and relax, let Hunter here take care of you.” He strode by with a second wink and a smirk. “Leave a sock on the doorknob if you don’t want us to come in.”
I opened my mouth to make what would have been a witty retort and stopped, unable to think of anything. It was one thing to snap poetic about others, a bit harder when it was my own love life.
The click of the suite door signaled the end of my quip window and the last of my pride.
Hunter let out a soft laugh before he sat on the sofa and picked up the abandoned remote. “I’m assuming you’d rather continue discussing Lamarr than have me ravish you.” His blue eyes met mine. “Although I should inform you I’m very, very good at multitasking.”
The brain freeze continued for another few seconds before I felt enough of a thaw to blush.
“Business before pleasure. Let’s at least have two of the team with their eye on the ball, as it were.” I shook my head, trying to clear the vibrant images racing through it. “We were talking about why he’d want us to find him.”
“Yes. Brian Lamarr isn’t a dumb man, according to his file.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Before you ask, I looked over the Agency copy while you were sleeping. High-school dropout, yes—but he also scored high on any IQ test he took, including the military. They dumped him ’cause of the psych profile.”
“Which makes him a perfect super.” I moaned.
“Darned smart kid who turned into a darned smart super. He knows we’re going to be coming after him, and he’s waiting for us. He’s picking his battleground and not leaving it to us.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Wouldn’t you do the same if you were in his shoes?”
“Okay, see, now I just feel dumb.” The leather chair across from him gave a squeak as I flopped into it. “He wants us to find him?”
Hunter kicked off his shoes and put his feet on the polished tabletop. “He wanted us to come here, off our home ground and away from where we’re comfortable. He’ll call when he’s ready for us.”
“And then?”
“Then we talk to him and see how he wants to play this. If he were just after death and destruction, he’d have leveled the Strip already. Odds are he wants to talk as well, maybe take a bribe to go away.”
“Oh, that’d be great,” I mumbled. “Until word gets out and every super is knocking on our door with an open hand. We can’t even keep ourselves in pocket change, and now we’re the First National Bank of Supers?”
“I’m just tossing out ideas.” He twirled the remote in one hand, the small black box dancing across and through his long, slender fingers. “Or he’s really, really stupid and has a death wish. Either way the next move is his. Jessie finds him or the little sociopath calls us.” Hunter grinned. “Until then, we relax and unwind.”
My head was still spinning. “Whose plan was this?”
“Yours. Obviously.” Hunter tapped his right temple with one finger. “With my assistance, of course.”
My stomach growled, cutting off any further discussion. “Any idea how good the food is here?”
“Buffet is supposed to be killer.”
I leaned forward and swept his feet off the black veneer. “Put your shoes on. We’re going downstairs.”
He raised one eyebrow. “You don’t want to hide up here, away from the paparazzi?”
“Nothing would make me happier. But I don’t want helicopters peering in through the windows with photographers hanging out the side, so let’s give them something while we wait for Lamarr.” I looked at my shirt and jeans. “I’m not changing, before you ask. Not a clotheshorse.”
Hunter laughed as he got to his feet and reached for his shoes. He tucked in the edges of his white T-shirt where they had pulled free of his jeans. “Never said or thought you were. Although I know there were quite a few Agency boys who wanted you to go for the tighter leather. Or the chainmail bikini.”
I snapped my fingers, sending sparks flying. “Don’t even start.”
“The leather outfit poster’s still a bestseller.” He walked to the door and held it open for me. “I think Jessie has one up in his locker.”
“Yes to the first. And I don’t know or want to know to the second.” We walked down the hall to the lone elevator. There were no other doors that I could see. I punched the elevator call button. “And don’t ask about the big knife. Almost disemboweled half the photo crew posing with the damned thing.”
The private elevator dumped us out in a side corridor, a stone’s throw from the main casino floor. Just close enough to give a bit of privacy, but you weren’t getting out without strutting through the casino proper. Typical casino design. There’s a reason why you don’t see a lot of windows or clocks in these places.
I sniffed the air. Cheap perfume, a wisp of expensive cigar and money. Very seductive.
My stomach could wait a few minutes to be satisfied.
I turned to Hunter. “You’re not really banned in Vegas, are you?” He’d joked about it once, and I had visions of hotel security rushing us either up to our room or into the back alleys for a chat. The Mob might have left Vegas officially, but some things never change.
He laughed and took my hand, his fingers slipping into mine with ease. “Not yet.” We walked out onto the floor, mingling with the rest of the tourists.
It was a great feeling just to stroll around the gaming tables and stare at the neon lights asking me for money. No flashing bulbs, no nosy questions, no fanboys asking me when I was going to do another poster layout. At least not yet.
Instead we walked through a surreal shrine to greed. Row after row of slot machines beckoned with scrolling video screens and various show tunes blaring from hidden speakers. A gigantic Wheel of Fortune sat to our left, the whop-whop-whop of the fat tabs calling to anyone who felt lucky. A woman squealed somewhere, a high-pitched cry that could be either ecstasy or desolation.
“Come. Let us destroy the Las Vegas economy before we eat.” Hunter cracked his knuckles. “Just for kicks.”
“Let’s start with the penny slots.” I dug in my pocket and came up with a handful of pennies. I wasn’t kidding about pocket money. “Just to see if you’re still on your game.”
He gave me a delicious smirk. “I’m always on, Jo. Just waiting for you to ask.”
I scoffed and stopped in front of one machine. The bright orange and green game chirped at me, displaying how many lines and crosses and zigzags I could buy for a penny, a dime, a dollar. Except I had all of five cents.
I slipped the five coins in and allowed the device to moan and bitch about how I could earn so much more if I’d just put in another dime or fifty.
“Playing hard to get?” Hunter hummed in my ear. He stood right behind me, both hands on my waist. His breath tickled the back of my neck, sending tremors over my skin.
“Always,” I replied.
My hand landed on the fat red bulb at the top of the pull arm to the right. I could have just slapped the button, but I was a tradition
alist.
“Grab and pull. Just not too hard,” he murmured behind me. “Be gentle.”
I rolled my eyes and pulled the arm towards me. It snapped back into place as the spinners rotated, the images flashing across the computer screen.
A few seconds later it stopped, the digital readout spewing forth my payout.
“Fifty thousand pennies,” I whispered, watching the numbers spin up.
“Five hundred dollars,” Hunter added, doing the math for me.
“Ooh.” I tapped the Pay Out button and snatched the paper readout before anyone could see us. “If we had played the maximum allowed on this machine…”
“Bah.” Hunter’s grip tightened on my waist. “Gets to be boring after awhile.”
I turned around and pressed my back against the slot machine. “I don’t feel very bored just yet.” The ticket was warm in my hand, the ink fresh and hot. “Figure the Agency can cover us if we break the bank?”
“It would send Outrager into a fit.” He waggled his eyebrows. I knew his skill, his only superhuman skill, was to affect the odds around us. It was sort of complicated, and Outrager had sent over a huge, fat book detailing exactly what Hunter could do, but in a nutshell he was a human probability field. It had been his luck that had made most of what we’d done so far possible. I had no doubt I’d be dead and the Earth still under attack if he hadn’t shown up that night with May, answering my pathetic cry for help.
Still, it would have been cruel to bankrupt the casino in one night. I mean, this was Vegas.
Hunter tugged me closer, moving in for a kiss. I felt giddy, the simple act of winning a few dollars making my head spin.
The hot guy devouring my mouth had nothing to do with it, of course.
I giggled and he pulled back for a second, wearing an odd expression.
“You okay?”
“Never better,” I mumbled, taking hold of his arms and drawing him in. “I’m feeling good. No, great.”
“Good.” Hunter nibbled on the side of my neck, hitting a particularly ticklish spot and making me squirm back against the slot machine and forward against his hips.
“Want to take this upstairs?” he whispered.
A shiver ran up my spine, and not the good type.
“What’s wrong?” He pulled away, noticing my sudden stiffness. “Too much? Too soon?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe when this Lamarr thing is over.” I let go of his shirt.
“Jo.” He searched for the right words, the frustration showing. “There’s always going to be something. If not alien attacks, then natural disasters. If not natural disasters, then rogue supers. Am I just reading too much into this, or…”
“No. No. No.” I looked up into a bright row of lights spotlighting the row of machines behind us. “It’s just getting used to this whole leadership thing. I mean, can the guys take me seriously if we’re boffing in the back room?”
“Boffing?” Hunter laughed.
“You know what I mean.” The muddled mess of my mind sloshed around my skull. “Mike, he was the leader. And my Guardian. It didn’t matter what we did or what I did, he was in charge.”
Hunter chewed on his bottom lip for a second before answering. “And now I’m your Guardian. But not your leader.” One eyebrow crept up. “Unless you want me to be, you know, your Dom.”
I put my hand on his chest. “Let’s not go there. At least not yet.” That earned me a combination fear/excitement gasp. “I just need to find my footing here, doing this, leading the team. Then I can do us.”
Another eyebrow arch and a snicker in response.
“Are you okay with that?” My stomach lurched, the nervousness breaking out into painful spasms.
“I’m fine.” He kissed me, a light peck tempting the smoldering embers to burst into flame. “I’m here for you and I’ll take care of you, as a good partner should. And a Guardian.”
“Okay.” I felt as if I’d finished a marathon. “Let’s roll with it.”
I pointed at one of the roulette tables and waved the payout slip in the air. “Let’s break that one first. Just a bit.”
Ten minutes later we watched as the small steel ball bounced around the wheel for what seemed like forever, finally landing for the third time in the double 00 slot, the green one. The dealer passed over a skyscraper of chips to us with a scowl. The pit boss moved closer, trying to balance being seen as intimidating and just keeping an eye on some darned lucky players.
I picked a black chip off the top of the stack. It was worth a hundred dollars. I tossed it at the dealer, then one at every other player at the table, all ten of them.
“Good hunting, boys. Don’t spend it all in one place.” I smiled as Hunter scooped the pile of chips into a holder, assisted by the pit boss who was glad to see us go.
I flipped the two waitresses standing nearby another pair of chips. We hadn’t gotten a single drink, but they’d been busy dealing with the other players, dashing around with overloaded trays. One of them was extremely pregnant, to the point that I worried that she’d deliver right there on the table. She got another two chips.
“For the little one.” I caught a glimpse of tears before I turned away, the lump in my throat threatening to dump my hard-earned mellowness. Hunter brushed the back of my hand, the light touch causing goose bumps on my skin.
“Let’s go eat. You’re tired and hungry. I kept you out too long.” He handed the chips to a casino employee who had magically appeared at our side. “Put this on our tab, please. And use the difference to make up whatever our other two companions have lost.”
I winced, thinking about Steve and Peter running rampant in the casino. “Think they’ve lost a lot?” I let him maneuver me towards the escalator and the all-day, all-night buffet in the basement of the hotel.
“Without me? Hell, yeah.” Hunter laughed. “I have no doubt that they’re both in the hole for a goodly amount of cash. Remember, everything’s balanced in the house’s favor. So we’re just evening things out.” His hand brushed against my cheek. “Besides, they’d call if there was a problem. They’re both big boys, give them a bit of credit.”
“True,” I admitted. “I guess I’m just a little protective.”
“Totally understandable.” He stepped off the escalator, holding out one hand for me. “But it’s time to eat. Besides, I’m starving. Been too busy feeding you to fill my own belly.”
I rolled my eyes dramatically, making sure he saw it. “Oh, Lordy. Whatever would I do without you?” I drawled in my best Scarlett O’Hara accent.
“Be a whole lot thinner?” He ducked away from my weak punch. “Come, let’s eat.”
We headed for the all-you-can-eat buffet, following the gaudy flashing arrows to what promised to be An Eating Experience Like No Other. I was hoping we’d be able to pull off at least one meal in public without being recognized.
I was wrong.
It started quietly enough, with a sweet little old lady intercepting us as we stood in line. She had to be over a hundred years old with the strength of Hercules to carry her overflowing bucket of quarters. It sloshed from side to side as she plunked it down on the nearby counter and reached for her purse.
“Oh, I thought you and Metal Mike made a great couple,” she muttered as I scribbled my name on the back of some show program. I signed it Jo Tanis, not Surf. “But I like this one much better. He’s a cutie.” The fluorescent redhead bobbed towards Hunter. He winked at her, and she giggled like a schoolgirl.
“Thank you.” I handed the sheet and pen back.
She put the program into her purse and went back to balancing the coins.
The couple in front of us spun around at my whispered words. Arms wrapped around each other, they sported matching I love Las Vegas white shirts. The blonde woman’s eyes went wide.
“Oh!” She pulled apart from her husband/significant other and flapped her hands so quickly that I was afraid she was about to take flight.
&nb
sp; “You’re, it’s, you, it’s them,” she squawked, poking her man in the ribs. “Can we get your autographs? Both of you?”
I put on my professional smile as her husband dug in her way-too-large purse, pulling it halfway down her arm. “Pleased to meet you. Have you been in Vegas long?”
“We just got married.” She waved a ring at me with a rock that would have taken microvision to see. “We’re on our honeymoon.”
“Congrats.” Hunter extended a hand to her. “And your name is?”
“Krystale. With a K and an E on the end.” She turned to her husband and plucked the autograph book out of his hand. “Can I get you both to sign, please?”
I caught the man’s eye. Dark circles under his eyes matched his short hair, a wan smile on his lips that seemed frozen. The honeymoon was over for him already. “Sure. Hunter, you first.”
“Do you have a nickname?” The harried man spoke, breaking the hold his wife had on the conversation. “I don’t recall seeing you before.”
“I don’t have one yet. Although I sort of like Multiple Man,” Hunter drawled.
I coughed and concentrated on the thick paper as I scrawled my name. It hadn’t occurred to me that good luck could come in all types and sizes. My imagination spun an image of the two of us in bed and all the sexual statistics we could break.
“Krystale. With a K and an E on the end,” I repeated, handing the book to Hunter. “So, how do you two lovebirds like Las Vegas?”
“Oh, it’s wonderful,” she squeaked as the line moved forward. “I love the bright lights!”
“So do I,” Hunter said as he handed the book to the husband who in turn tucked it back into the Bag of Holding disguised as his wife’s purse.
“Please, go ahead of us.” The man waved us on. “No use you waiting longer than you need to.” He smiled as his wife twittered her appreciation both verbally and on a cell phone which had magically appeared in her hand. “Please.”
“Sure.” Hunter hustled me forward. “I’m hungry,” he whispered, “and I hate long lines.”
“Me too.” I frowned as the crowd shifted, the people in front of us sliding to one side and leaving us out in the open.
Heroes Without, Monsters Within Page 8
