Gambling on Her Bear (Shifters in Vegas)

by Anna Lowe

  Crazy. His bear nodded. In the best possible way.

  Well, he’d been a hair away from shifting into bear form and ripping into the vampire. Damn, that would that have felt good. Even if the others eventually tore him to pieces and sucked out his blood, it would have been worth it to save Karen.

  But one impulsive act wouldn’t have helped, which was the only reason he’d kept his bear leashed.

  Jesus, he was crazy, risking his heart to a woman like that. He was bound to sprout gray hair and die young from a heart attack she gave him with one of her escapades.

  His bear grinned. Dying young and happy beats old and bored, you know.

  Tanner pursed his lips. Fate was just messing with him. That’s what it was. Karen wasn’t his destined mate. She couldn’t be.

  But his bear sniffed her trail dreamily long after she’d been led out of the room. The only reason the beast allowed her out of sight was the knowledge that her dragon blood kept her safe.

  “You.” Schiller snapped his fingers.

  Tanner held back a growl. God, he’d like to take the vampire on, face-to-face. But fate was messing with him on that count, too, because he had to be sneaky and bide his time. Christ, it was unworthy of a bear. But he had his clan’s welfare to think about, so he held back his tongue — and his claws.

  “I want the whole building searched. Find out how she broke in.”

  He arched an eyebrow and pointed straight up. “Well, she is a dragon.”

  He had to hide a smile, imagining Karen swooping down on the roof. God, he’d like to see her in dragon form. She’d have the same reddish-black coloring as her hair, he’d bet. A flap or two of her wings and she’d be airborne. What a sight that would be. And what a feeling it would be for his bear to lope along a mountain ridge as she soared overhead. The moonlight would glint off her wings, and they’d meet in some lofty place, shift back to human form, and kiss. Kiss and touch and explore, with the earthy scent of dragon mixing with her human scent.

  Imagine not one night, but a lifetime of that, his bear sighed.

  “Find out who’s responsible and punish them,” Schiller snapped.

  Ah, law and order in the vampire world. So black and white.

  Schiller and his entourage disappeared inside the penthouse suite, and Tanner spent the next hour affirming what he’d already surmised. Karen had broken in through the roof entrance, set a fire a few floors down as a diversion, and then backtracked to steal the diamond. The fire would seal the fire doors leading to Schiller’s apartment, too, which bought her time to steal the diamond. If she hadn’t tripped the witch’s trap, she would have escaped with the diamond.

  He walked down the ashy hallway of the twenty-seventh floor, telling himself he had it all figured out. Elementary, right?

  Except some things didn’t add up. The lock on the roof door had simply been sprung as if she’d had the key. And how had she set the fire? Of course, as a dragon, all she had to do was spit a few flames, but the hallways of the two levels below didn’t bear the phosphoric scent that went with dragon’s breath. Or so he’d heard, because he’d never met a dragon before. They were few and far between, more legend than real life.

  She’ll be a legend, all right, his bear hummed, dreaming of her.

  They’d both be legends — Karen and her sister, Kaya, who’d torched half the underground fighting arena Schiller ran in his spare time. Tanner wished he had been able to witness that, but he’d been working in the casino that night. He would have loved to see Schiller’s face as not one but two dragons slipped out of his grasp.

  His brow furrowed with the thought. If he had been there, would he have been able to let Karen go?

  And now she was back. While part of him cried to see her taken captive again, another part of his soul sang. He had a second chance!

  But really, a second chance at what?

  At love. At forever, his bear said.

  Tanner took the stairs all the way down to the tenth floor, where Schiller kept his occasional “guests.” They came in all shapes, sizes — and flavors, he figured, grimacing — and while some went willingly, others had no choice. Like Karen.

  The willing ones weirded him out. There’d been a whole group of college-age women through here his first month on the job, and they’d heartily participated in the sex-and-blood orgies vampires threw. It turned his stomach, but as long as the women were willing and the vampires didn’t kill their prey, well, he figured he’d keep his mouth shut. With the witches cleansing the victims’ memories of anything but wild sex, the vampires managed to hide their true nature from the outside world. Humans were just as ignorant of the existence of vampires as they were of shifters.

  Still, it made his skin crawl, imagining what went on behind closed doors. Seeing the glassy-eyed “guests” leave, assuming their weak legs came from a pint too much to drink instead of a pint too little blood in their veins. And to think Karen was locked up there now…

  His eyes skipped ahead to the suite at the end of the hall. He didn’t have to ask to know where they were keeping her. He could scent her trail.

  The scent of my mate, his bear murmured.

  He shook his head. At some point, he and his bear were going to have words and finally get things straight. She wasn’t his mate. She couldn’t be. He was just going to free her and see her on her way.

  Sure. Right. Uh-huh. His bear nodded, pretending to play along.

  He’d have rebuked it, too, but voices drifted from the enclosed guard station midway down the hall, and he couldn’t help but overhear.

  “No way is she all dragon,” said one hushed but excited guard. A vampire. You could always tell without looking because their voices were unnaturally smooth.

  “You’re nuts, man,” said the second guard. A wolf shifter — the gritty scratch in his voice was a dead giveaway.

  Tanner slowed his step and tilted his head.

  The young vampire smacked his lips, an annoying habit that told him it was Antoine, one of Elvira’s malicious nephews.

  “You know what I think?” Antoine said.

  “What do you think?” the wolf replied in a disinterested monotone.

  “I think she’s half witch.”

  Tanner’s body froze. Witch?

  “You’re nuts, man,” the second guard said.

  Tanner sure hoped so. The bears in his clan held a deep grudge against witches ever since the time generations ago when a witch had nearly exposed every shifter in the Rockies to humans. The shifters had only survived by retreating deep into the mountains, away from prying eyes that the witch had made attuned to the subtle differences between humans and shifters — things like the unique glow in a shifter’s gaze, the outdoorsy scent, the telltale twitching of noses and ears. They’d barely averted disaster. Older folks in remote mountain communities still told tales of werewolves and werebears, though no one believed them any more. A damned good thing, and a damned close call.

  Never trust a witch. He remembered his grandfather’s bitter tone.

  Never trust a witch, his father would echo.

  And Tanner never had. Why would he?

  His heart skipped a beat. But Karen? A witch?

  “A witch,” Antoine said, sounding sure. But then, the bastard always sounded sure of himself. “How else did she break into the penthouse? That place is a goddamned Fort Knox.”

  Tanner’s mind spun back over the results of his investigation of the upper floors. It couldn’t be. Could it?

  “And if she’s only half dragon, I bet we can drink her blood,” Antoine went on.

  “You want to be the one to find out the hard way?” the second guard asked.

  Tanner’s eyes darted down the length of the hall to Karen’s suite. The suite was protected from the inside with a spell, but not from the outside. A guard with the key — like Antoine — could enter any time of day or night.

  He leaned forward, clawing at his own palms. The sound of fingers scratching over a tabletop carried
to his ears, and he winced. Damn those vampires and their groomed nails.

  “Just imagine how good her blood would taste. It would be so thick, so rich…”

  Tanner braced a hand against the wall. He would not rush over and throttle Antoine. Not yet, he wouldn’t.

  “I can just taste it…”

  “You guys are sick, you know that?” the wolf shifter said in disgust. “Forget about it.”

  Heavy silence indicated that Antoine was doing anything but.

  “Listen, I’m going to get myself coffee,” the wolf said. “Coffee, that’s how you get a pick-me-up. Not blood.”

  Tanner backed around a corner of the hallway, keeping out of sight until he heard the man’s steps recede. The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open then closed. Silence ensued but for the beating of his heart.

  He pictured Antoine, scheming away. The young vampire was a greedy little prick. Greedy for blood and for power.

  Tanner had learned a lot about vampires in the past three months — more than he ever wanted to. Drinking blood gave them power, and the more powerful the donor, the greater the drugging effect of the drink. Strong men and women, humans and shifters — vampires weren’t discriminating. They sought the most potent blood, the kind sure to give them their greatest highs, the most lasting boosts to their power.

  And dragon blood was the strongest of all. That’s why Schiller coveted Karen’s blood. The only reason he hadn’t fed from her yet was the fear that her blood was too rich, even for him.

  When Tanner sniffed the air, he smelled greed and temptation. Vegas was thick with it, but the scent was especially strong and fresh here. The rancid scent came from the guard room where Antoine schemed away.

  Another piece of vampire lore spilled out of the recesses of his mind. Vampires raved about the ultimate drop of blood in a person’s body as being the richest, most potent drop. They even had a special name for it — ultimum gutta sanguinis — and spoke about it like it was the holiest of all holy things. Most vampires had the sense not to bleed their prey dry, the same way most shifters had the sense not to show their beast sides to humans. But young, reckless vampires… Who knew what they might risk?

  Young, reckless, and impatient, like Antoine.

  Tanner’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to figure out what to do. Whether Antoine decided to go after Karen by himself or to share his hunch, Karen was in danger. He had to get her out of there, fast. Witch or no witch, he wasn’t leaving her to these thugs.

  But how to do that without blowing his cover?

  Easy, his bear huffed. We go in there, claw Antoine to pieces, and get our mate out.

  Right. Like that would work. The entire building was already on high alert.

  He peered around the corner and looked at the juncture of two hallways where a pair of security cameras panned back and forth. Like so many others in the building, they were out of sync, creating a blind spot every thirty seconds or so — a glitch he’d never reported in case he ever needed to capitalize on that oversight.

  Like right about now.

  He waited for the cameras to pan away, then rushed to the guard room and peered inside. Antoine stood with his back to the door, tapping his long nails on the vampire-friendly, blacked-out window pane.

  An easy target, but Jesus, did he dare? If he went through with his hastily formed plan — never a good idea — there’d be no turning back. Maybe he should think things through a little.

  What, now? his bear bellowed. This is our chance!

  A chance to screw up everything. Karen could be a witch — a witch who had lied to him. Maybe even a witch who had enchanted him. Was she worth risking the future of his clan for?

  Hell, yes! his bear hollered.

  Instinct took over, and he rushed in before the vampire could react. The second Tanner slammed his fist into the back of Antoine’s head, the vampire fell with a grunt. It took all his self-control not to keep punching to make sure Antoine would never wake to think bloody thoughts about Karen or any other woman again.

  But there wasn’t time for that, and killing Antoine would only raise suspicions. Tanner grabbed the master key card, ran to the door, and sprinted down the hallway the second the cameras were turned.

  “Come on… come on…” he murmured, trying the key card in a dozen different positions. The lock light remained steadfastly red. He was running out of time. The cameras were slowly panning his way.

  “Come on…” He fumbled one more time.

  He was about to shoulder the door open when the light flashed green, and a click sounded. He dashed inside, whirling immediately to close the door before the camera caught any hint of activity.

  Whew.

  Then, whoa! Something rocketed from across the room, and he ducked just in time to avoid a vase that shattered an inch over his head. Water splashed his hair, and a tulip whacked him in the ear.

  “Bloodsucking bastard—” Karen’s shout broke off when their eyes met.

  Well, he hadn’t been expecting a kiss, but a vase?

  He wiped the water off his face and held his hands up, because his green-eyed spitfire had a two-inch-thick glass ashtray in her hand, ready to hurl.

  “It’s me,” he said.

  Her eyes narrowed on him, taking aim for her next volley, perhaps.

  “You,” she uttered, totally unimpressed.

  His bear groaned inside. She hates us, and it’s all your fault!

  “Hey!” he protested out loud.

  It wasn’t his fault this headstrong she-dragon had been taken captive by vampires — twice. It wasn’t his fault he’d had to pretend to play along with the vampires.

  “Hey, what?” she demanded.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” he muttered, cursing his bear. “I mean…”

  Karen lifted the ashtray and wound up her throwing arm for what was sure to be a hundred-mile-an-hour fastball she’d hurl his way.

  “Wait!” he said, putting up his hands.

  She didn’t wait, but she didn’t throw, either. She stomped right up to him and shoved him back against the door. Shoved him, like he was the lightweight and she was the grizzly.

  “Now you listen to me, bear,” she started.

  He could have reacted in any of a dozen ways. He could have pinned her against the door and demanded to know if she was really a witch. He could have grabbed her by the arm, clamped a hand over her mouth, and carried her the hell out of that place. He could have tried to find the words to explain everything that had happened after the night they’d first met. But what did he do?

  It happened before he even realized what he was up to. Some hidden switch inside him flipped, and all of a sudden, he was on fire. All the weeks of worrying and waiting, of hoping and fearing and scheming away. All the hours dreaming of the one night he’d shared with her — they all boiled up out of nowhere, making him crush her close and deliver the mother of all bear kisses. A deep, hungry, possessive kiss that screamed I’m sorry and I love you and Please, please, never throw a vase at me again.

  He begged her. He consumed her. He marked her as his.

  A second after Karen squeaked in surprise, her hands fisted in his shirt and pulled him closer. Her mouth opened under his, welcoming him to taste her. Demanding that he do so, in fact, and swiping his tongue with hers at the same time. She yanked him closer until her breasts were mashed against his chest, her heart pounding against his, her scent intoxicating him.

  He got so lost in that kiss, they just about tipped over, but they both came up for air at the very same time. He blinked at her, and she blinked at him.

  “Karen,” he whispered.

  She opened her mouth but didn’t utter a peep. His indomitable she-dragon was tongue-tied, possibly for the first time in her life.

  Then the need surged back, and he kissed her again. He turned and held her against the door this time, gently — or maybe not so gently. He couldn’t tell any more, but since the sounds Karen made were of the More, ba
by, more, variety, he kept at it, feeling like he’d never get enough of his mate.

  His mate. Jesus. Could his mate really be half witch?

  Witch. Dragon. Whatever, his bear muttered inside.

  All that mattered was that she was his and he was hers and that they stayed that way forever.

  Forever, his bear murmured, savoring every nuanced flavor in that desperate kiss.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, a gong tolled, informing him that forever would end a hell of a lot sooner than he wanted it to if he didn’t get his mate out of the Scarlet Palace soon. So he pulled away — really pulled with every muscle in his body, because the magnetic force squeezing his body against hers was something else. Their lips smacked as they unlocked, and he rested his head against the door, panting against her shoulder.

  Must…regain…control… His brain sent the order, but most of his nerves were on strike, refusing to deliver the message. Mate’s…life…depends…on…it…

  It didn’t help that her hands still clutched him or that her lips moved softly over his ear the way they did in his dreams.

  “Tanner,” she murmured, making his soul sing.

  No time to sing. Get her out. Make mate safe.

  Funny that the bear was the reasonable one for a change.

  It took another minute of smoothing a hand over the silky wave of her hair before he really pulled himself together.

  “I have to get you out of here,” he whispered.

  “We have to get both of us out of here,” she replied, and it was so, so tempting. But it couldn’t work that way, because he had to stay on the inside and finish what he came to Vegas to do. And how would he ever explain that?

  I love you. I want you.

  I need you, his bear added.

  But I have to let you go. Again.

  He didn’t bother trying to get any of that out, though. Not now. It was time for action, not words. Nudging Karen behind him, he opened the door and peeked out. He timed the cameras carefully, then hurried her down the hall. A glance into the guard booth showed Antoine still out for the count.

  The elevator doors pinged, and he yanked Karen around a corner to the stairs. In less than a minute, the second guard would saunter back to his post and raise the alarm. Tanner flew down the stairs four at a time, and Karen kept pace, thank God. Hell, being a dragon, she probably could take ten at a time.