Aces Wild: A Sin City Collectors Novella

by Amanda Carlson

  “What’s wrong with me?” Neve whispered to herself, holding her head in her hands.

  The only logical explanation was it had to be something she was unaware of on her vamp side. She’d never had an adult vampire in her life to guide her. Her mother was human—and didn’t even have any idea she’d had sex with a vampire, much less that she’d given birth to a dhampir. It was ridiculous her mother was still in the dark after all these years, but it was a moot point, because she hadn’t been sober long enough to have figured it out anyway. Her mother knew Neve was a pain in the ass, independent to a fault, a smart aleck with a comeback for any occasion, but her mother never suspected her of being other.

  But growing up, Neve never felt like she needed a vampire in her life to guide her. She’d figured out early on that she was different, and she’d coped just fine. Because of a supernatural’s ability to sense others, she’d known she hadn’t been alone, but she’d never willingly sought out another vamp, until her fateful botched first Collection. “I should’ve taken the time to find my kind,” she muttered as she stood. “Then I wouldn’t be in this spot.”

  She paced to the balcony door and gazed out.

  Whatever the reason, what had happened between her and Jake had been unique. Both times. There was no denying it. It would’ve been easy to chalk it up to a vampire “losing” herself in the throes of passion, but she’d been intimate with others over the years, and this had never happened. Not even one time. She fully admitted she wasn’t experienced in the lover department—but she was no virgin either.

  Jake was something different.

  She hugged herself and glanced out at the Strip. People were in constant motion on the streets below. Amid all the skyscrapers and the lights and traffic, they were totally unaware of the real world they occupied and what surrounded them every day. Neve didn’t move a muscle as she stood staring out, because she wasn’t ready to acknowledge the feeling that was creeping over her like a dark shadow—that she’d actually wanted Jake, craved him, but had fought against herself and her feelings both times they had been together. The thought made her feel weak. Then she felt nauseated. She didn’t need him or anyone else to make her feel whole, damn it. She wasn’t going to let herself cave in to the neediness.

  A door slammed next door, wresting her out of her contemplation.

  Neve immediately slid over to the wall closest to her Collection, easing back into doing her job without a second thought. With Jake out of the picture, it was all hers for the taking, and she was going to prove to herself, Louie, and her Boss, that she could do this right.

  She straightened up.

  The quicker this was over, the sooner she could go back home to the nice, solid, stable life she’d created for herself. This had always been her Collection, and she was ready to make good on it. There was no room for failure.

  Neve moved toward the balcony and placed her hand on the door handle, sliding the glass soundlessly open no more than a foot.

  Then she slipped through it like a ghost into the night.

  Jake was halfway through the casino before he slowed his pace. Something prickled at the back of his neck, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn’t. He ducked behind a few potted plants until he could figure out what it was. He couldn’t ignore his innate nature, and his duty was to guard.

  Something was wrong.

  Damn that girl and her mind games. He swore under his breath. He couldn’t get Neve out of his head. On the way down in the elevator, he’d made his mind up to leave. Neve could have the Collection, just like she’d wanted from the start. He’d explain himself to Louie tomorrow, and if they wanted to throw him out of the agency for failing to do his job, so be it.

  There were things worth fighting for, and there were things worth giving up. The pain in his chest caused by Neve’s complete turnabout upstairs was blinding in its intensity. The branding level, after tasting her kisses again, had notched itself even higher than it had been three years ago. It was a roaring inferno inside his skull, and there was no way Jake could handle it for one more second.

  He’d just made his mind up to leave again, screw whatever was wrong, when he glanced up to see the two nymphs he’d spotted earlier coming straight at him. They were identical in every way, except for one thing. One had blue eyes, and the other’s were green. Their long, cascading, blonde hair shimmered as they moved, and Jake knew they had the ability to entrance him.

  It was time to leave.

  “Where you goin’, big guy?” The green-eyed one stepped in front of him, blocking his path, so he was forced to stop.

  The other one sidled up to him, and her hand ran along his arm. “Don’t you want to stay and play? We’re really good at playtime,” the blue-eyed beauty purred.

  “Not tonight, ladies,” Jake said. “I’m on my way out.” He tried to sidestep them. With the taste of Neve still on his lips, there was no way he was ready for another encounter with anyone. He wouldn’t be for a long time.

  As he moved forward, the blue-eyed nymph dug her nails into his shoulder, ripping his shirt. “I don’t think so, big guy.” Her grip was surprisingly strong. “We’re not going to give you up that easily.”

  When Jake tried to shake her off, she wouldn’t budge. He gaped as he realized her nails were actually embedded in his skin. His hide was so tough, he knew she must be spelling him or had some kind of toxins in her nails that had weakened his armor. If he ripped his arm away, it would be a massive wound. He would heal quickly, if the toxins didn’t interfere, but doing so in front of these humans would be detrimental and could land him on the other end of a Collection.

  Supernaturals were expected to fight their battles privately.

  “Get off me,” he growled low. “I have no issues fighting women, and you won’t like the outcome.”

  “Oh, you’re not going to fight us.” The green-eyed nymph placed both her hands on his chest, her fingertips piercing his pecs. “We just need you to take a little nap.”

  “Nap?” he roared, struggling to keep his voice at normal decibels. Knocking out a hellhound was nearly impossible, yet his brain was starting to feel a little fuzzy.

  This was no seduction.

  These two were working for someone, and they knew who he was, and that meant they possibly knew he was a Collector. He had to get away. “You’re not keeping me here,” he growled, shoving the green-eyed nymph off his chest. “There’s no possible way you can contain me.”

  “Who said it was just the two of us?” the blue-eyed nymph chirped, her nails still in his shoulder. Blood had begun to run down his arm in thick rivulets, and someone was going to notice soon. “Melody, you have to hit him again.” The blue-eyed one nodded toward her pal. “He’s too big. He needs more juice.”

  “Melody, I think I’ve had quite enough, thank you,” Jake said as the green-eyed nymph started forward to help. Right as she came into his personal space, he brought a hand up and backhanded her into the nearest plant a good four feet away. Thank goodness casinos ran everything on a big scale. He managed to shuffle backward to keep hidden, bringing the other nymph with him. Once they were out of sight of casual passersby, Jake turned and took the blue-eyed nymph by the neck and squeezed hard. Her nails slid out of his arm as she gasped for air. He bared his teeth, hauling her right in front of his face. “You honestly thought you could take me that easily?”

  “No, they were just a little overeager,” a new female voice said from his left. “You can’t trust a nymph to do anything right when there’s this much testosterone in the room.”

  Jake’s head snapped around. The witch he’d noted earlier stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. She had striking features paired with long, dark hair. Her eyes curved slightly upward, and her irises were full of gold flecks. They almost seemed to dance in amusement at his predicament. Her mouth was full, and her skin was a rich olive color.

  “You can’t be serious,” Jake challenged as he tossed the blue-eyed nymph into h
er recovered twin’s arms. His head was still foggy, but he knew his body had already fought most of the toxins. “You’re all working together?” He glanced between the witch and the two nymphs. “Isn’t that a little too much cross-species helpfulness?”

  The witch shook her head, her hair swinging with each shake. She was dressed in a casual shirt and jeans and looked completely normal. “Not when our patron is paying us scads of money to keep you out of the way. Everything has its price, hellhound. You should know that by now.” She waved her fingers at Jake, and he knew what was coming next.

  “Your spells won’t hold me for long, witch,” Jake countered. “Once my body gets a taste of your magic, it will build its own barrier against it immediately. Once I wake, I will be immune to you, and then what happens?”

  She shrugged. “You won’t be my problem when you wake, fella. My job requirement stipulates only that I get you down. So, down you go. Ta-ta,” she chirped in a throaty, singsong voice as she wiggled her fingers.

  He saw her smirk as magic ripped through the air.

  All Jake could do was brace himself. There was no time or room to do anything else. Her spell hit him squarely in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to double over. He kept his balance, whipping a hand out to steady himself against the wall.

  The spell was ridiculously strong, and he gritted his teeth as he fought against it. This witch was at master level or beyond. He cursed as the spell began to overtake him. As his brain began to shut down, he thought, if these supes knew who he was, and why he was here, Neve was in trouble, and this Collection was about to go horribly wrong. “Why”—Jake gasped—“are you doing this”—another breath in—“for a vamp?”

  “Boy you’re a strong one, aren’t you?” the witch said as she waltzed up to him, appearing mildly impressed by his valiant attempts to rebuff her spell. “I told you, this is just business. It’s not that complicated. I spell you, you stay down, these lugs carry you away, and I get paid a handsome amount that ensures I don’t have to spend my wretched days bewitching horny businessmen at fifty dollars a pop.”

  The moment she said the word “lugs,” Jake sensed them.

  He looked up and spotted the three shifters he’d seen at the roulette table headed his way. Shit, he should’ve been more careful. Being caught like this made him feel like a complete rookie. He forced himself to stand with his back braced against the wall so he could face his adversaries head on. His natural immune system was filtering out the witch’s spell, but at this rate it would take longer than he had. He knew he was going to succumb, but after his body eradicated it, he would wake.

  He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

  “You’re fighting a good fight, champ,” the witch said, stepping closer. “And, honestly, I’m impressed. I’ve never spelled a hellhound, so I had no earthly idea how much magic it would take, but I see I’m going to need to amp up my game. Sorry to do this to you, because, lordy, you’re quite a specimen, but orders are orders.”

  Jake cringed as she shot another spell point-blank into his chest.

  This one was even stronger than the last. His body crashed back against the wall as the shifters closed in on him. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was, “Take him away, fellas. And make sure these horny bitches don’t go with you. Our patron was very clear about that.”

  Nevada slid along the balcony, edging her way toward the suite next door. She heard nothing but the humans and car horns on the Strip below. The sounds carried, and she hoped the noise would be enough to camouflage her movements from any supe who was listening for a stealth approach. It didn’t bother her in the least that she was sixty-one stories up. If she slipped, which she wouldn’t, she would simply grab on to another balcony and climb back up. She was skilled like that.

  The only thing that interfered with keeping her mind on her task was Jake. She tried to block him out of her brain as best she could, but images of being with him a moment ago, and her possible feelings surrounding them, had begun to settle over her like a heavy blanket. If she was being honest, she had indeed wanted him and had given in to him of her own free will, and in doing so she’d uncovered a place inside herself she hadn’t known existed. She found that all a little horrifying. She still had no better explanation as to why she seemed to fall under his spell—and his alone—and she knew it would be easy to blame the hellhound.

  But that was completely childish, and she hadn’t been a child in a very long time.

  She balanced on the end of the railing. At least ten feet of building separated her from the corner suite’s balcony. To get to her Collection she was going to have to scale the building in between, and she’d have to rely on her speed and her nails to keep from taking a very unpleasant fall.

  She assessed her situation. If she was quick enough, it shouldn’t be an issue. If she fell between the balconies, there would be nothing to grab on to. Neve could regenerate a small injury, but something catastrophic, such as her brain smashing all over the ground below, would likely kill her.

  No time to overthink it. She had a job to do.

  She balanced her weight perfectly on the balls of her feet as she willed her nails out. They came fiercely: sharp, solid, and hard as steel. They had been her saving grace on so many occasions, she had toasted them regularly when she’d been imbibing. Without her nails, she would not have survived her youth—or randy fire demons, for that matter. She could slice a jugular in less than a second, and her nails, coupled with her strength, had proved deadly time and time again. Now she just needed them to work to keep her rooted in place as she scaled the building. She stretched an arm out and her trusty nails bit into the concrete like butter. She smiled.

  She moved across the space quickly and efficiently. She couldn’t risk being spotted by humans below, so she had to move faster than they could track but still slow enough to make sure she stayed in place. She reached the other balcony and placed a single toe on the railing, stopping for a moment to listen. She heard nothing from inside the penthouse, so she cautiously moved forward, placing her other foot on the metal rail. Still nothing. She balanced both feet and crouched low, dropping to the floor soundlessly.

  Once there, she pressed her back to the building and continued to listen.

  Her built-in vampire-detecting senses were not going off. She felt no visceral reaction in her gut, no cramping stomach or the need to vomit up her dinner, but it could be possible the building was interfering. She had come across so few vamps in her lifetime, it was hard to know exactly what proximity she needed to be in order to feel one.

  She slid up the glass and put her ear as close to the door as she dared. Both sets of curtains had been shut, so there was no risk of being spotted out here, but a skilled vamp should’ve heard something by now. Though, even if he’d heard a noise, he might not think it was a supe, and if he wasn’t expecting company, he might not choose to investigate.

  She concentrated hard, willing out all other sounds, and focused on detecting movement inside the room. After a moment, she had to admit that she heard nothing and felt nothing. There were no warning signs going off. Maybe Mr. Laurent had come in, which had been the noise she’d heard, but since she’d scaled the building, he’d gone back out. But it didn’t matter. It was time to investigate. She placed her hand on the door handle and gave it a tentative push to see if it was locked.

  It gave.

  Soundlessly, she slid it open less than a centimeter. The full scent of the room exploded around her, and every hair on her body stood on end, but not because her vamp-dar had gone off, but because whatever was inside called to her—inside her head. She’d never experienced anything like it. She froze, unsure what to do.

  “Come in, my child,” a stoic voice filtered through the air. “I’ve had enough waiting. It is time we met.”

  Neve’s fight-or-flight impulse raced through her at warp speed. What she wanted to do was hightail it out of there, because something was very, very
wrong, but her body wouldn’t obey.

  Instead, she found herself itching to enter the penthouse.

  “Do not fight my command,” the voice intoned. “It will only hamper our dealings. You cannot escape me now. Please come in.”

  A deep shudder ran through her. Vampires enjoyed tormenting their prey, and she knew that once she was inside, she was going to bleed.

  With a sigh, she pushed open the door.

  “That’s it, my child. Come to me.”

  Jake awoke with a start. He tried to move, but realized he’d been tied up in some kind of silver rope and had been stuffed into what seemed, by the smell, to be a hotel closet filled with cleaning supplies. The witch’s spell was completely gone, and he’d healed from all the cuts the nymphs had inflicted.

  This was no regular Collection.

  He had to get to Neve as quickly as possible. The urge to protect her roared through him like a tidal wave of anger and need. This Collection had been nothing more than a setup. The vamp must have orchestrated his crime on purpose to get a bounty on his head.

  Jake had to get out of here.

  His hands were tied behind his back. If any one of his adversaries had bothered to research hellhounds, they’d have known silver had no effect on him. Lucky for him, supernaturals lumped his breed in with shifters, who were sensitive to silver. He did shift. Into a ferocious hound with thick, gray skin and huge canines. But he wasn’t a true shifter and shared no common gene pool with any of those groups. Hellhounds were a breed of their own that had originated eons ago in the underworld. Things were apparently different down there—not that Jake had visited—but if these knuckleheads had done one lick of work, they would’ve known to use iron instead of silver.

  He flexed his muscles, and the thick silver rope, which was two-inch cable, snapped immediately. He threw it down and stood, his shoulder knocking into a shelving unit as he rose, which shook and rattled, alerting his captors he was awake.