by C. R. Moss
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2013 C.R. Moss
ISBN: 978-1-77130-262-3
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: JS Cook
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To my other half ~ thank you for your continued support and love!
LOVERS AND THE FIEND
The LVH Underground, 1
C.R. Moxx
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
I have your woman. A nice piece of ass she is, too. She tells me you’re not bad yourself. I would love for you to join us later. A car will be waiting for you outside your office at noon today where my assistant will fill you in on some details. If you know what’s good for you and your gal, you’ll take advantage of this invitation. See you soon. ~ Kol Ainmire
Jack Vorst’s temper went full tilt within a second. His blood pounded hard through his head and body. He’d told Kristina to be careful when she went out on her cases, but it seemed she still had gotten herself in trouble. Not good.
“Vic! Get in here!” Trying to check and rein in his anger before he popped a vessel, Jack grabbed the letter he’d found on his desk while going through a stack of mail and a couple of case files. The paper crinkled within his one clenched hand, and the envelope it’d come in bunched up in his other.
He kept his gaze downcast, ground his teeth. No sense in looking at the tan colored walls that were littered with stenciling in his office and be more irritated than he already was. The design and colors reminded him of the Native American beaded belts people sold at roadside stands.
Vic’s wife, Malory, who worked in the adjoining office suites, loved her southwestern motifs. All the rooms for both divisions of the business were decorated to represent Arizona and New Mexico. The decorating style with too many colors and crazy patterns made his head swim, gave him a headache. He hated headaches.
Staring at the crumpled papers in his hands, he sighed. Truth be told, Kristina’s whereabouts and her lack of checking in for several days only concerned him a little. She was able to take care of herself, and he trusted her. He loved her, wanted her to be safe, so of course he worried some. But being an elf gave her an advantage that mere humans didn’t have—the ability to escape situations by simply disappearing and reappearing elsewhere.
Except this time.
Damn it. Jack slammed his fist on his desk. The fact that Mr. Ainmire—whoever or whatever he was—had her meant her powers had been compromised. It also seemed that the man had…
Shaking his head, Jack stopped his train of thoughts. He didn’t even want to guess what that man was doing with his girlfriend. What he needed to concentrate on were the questions that could lead to facts. Where’d the letter he’d found on his desk come from? Who had his lady and where was she? “Vic!”
“Quit your bellowing. I’m here.” Victor, Jack’s private investigating partner and friend, poked his head into his office. His deep Brooklyn accent filled the room. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”
Holding up the crumpled letter, Jack leveled him with a stern glare. “Where the hell did this come from?”
“Your in-box?” he ragged.
If he could have, Jack would have punched his friend in the face to wipe off the smart-ass smirk and make himself feel better, but Vic would kick his ass, and then fire him with ease. “I’m not in the mood for jokes.” He handed his boss the items. “Someone has Kristina. Did your wife tell you anything about the case she’d sent her out on?”
“Lory doesn’t always share information about the paranormal cases with me.” Vic appeared to scan the letter and then the envelope that only had Jack’s name typed on it. He ran thick fingers through his gelled, inky black hair. “I’ve heard her talking to her team about some ghost sightings, a couple of poltergeist incidents, and there was something about some kind of underground club … or vampire club,” he muttered. He waved a hand in the air. “Or something or other coming into town. Don’t know anything else. Or where this came from. Or who could’ve dropped it off. Sorry, bud.” He handed the paper back.
Jack’s attention homed in on two specific words. “Vampire club? Are we talking about the people playing dress up or the people who actually try to live like the mythical bloodsucking creatures?”
Vic raised a brow. “Mythical? You, who met and has a relationship with an elf, are still skeptical about the paranormal side of Las Vegas Hunters Private Investigating?”
Jack shrugged. After last Christmas when he’d taken on a case to help Lory, one would’ve thought he’d be a believer by now, too, but no. Though he’d chased down the elf, found her and promptly fell in love with her through a couple of mystical visions and interactions, the skeptical side of him still ran strong. Kristina hated how he continued to balk at the magical side of life. He kept telling her all the hocus-pocus stuff was her deal. Cold hard facts were his. She should have just been happy he had opened his heart and fallen in love with her.
Love. Something else he hadn’t believed in until he met her. But he had become a believer after she chased his demons away, and he was grateful for her.
The side of LVH-PI that Jack worked on and that was headed up by Vic was Las Vegas Hunters Private Investigating Services. Real cops and robbers, cloak and dagger stuff. After he left Metro, Victor brought him onto the team. They worked on the serious cases like tracking down criminals, deadbeat dads and cheaters.
The other side of the business—the one Kristina became a part of shortly after they’d met—dealt with something he still couldn’t get his head wrapped around—Las Vegas Hunters Paranormal Investigating Services. Vic’s wife, Malory, spearheaded that division. Amazing how many people believed in the paranormal and came knocking on her door on a regular basis with their weird cases.
“The paranormal, mythological creatures, creations from story books and legends. Flights of fancy and fairy tales…” Jack couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“You’re something else.” Vic shook his head. “I’m happy the ladies aren’t around to hear you diss their deal, especially Kristina.”
“Vic, the vampires,” he stated, trying to keep his friend on track. “Do you know what we’re dealing with here? The role players or the freaks who think they’re actually bloodsuckers?”
Vic pulled out the chair in front of Jack’s oak desk, lowered his stocky girth into it and opened his mouth.
“Why don’t you ask me?” Malory, Vic’s blonde-haired, ex-showgirl wife, interrupted and leaned against the doorjamb.
Ah, Lory. His friend was one lucky SOB catching that hot California beauty, but then, he now had Kristina, a babe in her own right.
An image of Lory standing by her and Vic’s Christmas tree in their house came to mind. She’d been wielding a candy cane and pointing it in his direction. ‘When you went off the market, you disappointed a lot of my friends. A shame too since they all like your dark good looks and slamming tall-drink-of-water runner’s body,’ she’d said. He’d gotten a good chuckle out of her dramatic reaction to his finally finding someone. She also hadn’t appreciated it when he’d reminded her that she’d been after him for ages to find a woman like Kristina. Boy, had she been upset at first that my new girlfriend wasn’t o
ne of her buddies.
Stifling back a laugh over the memories, he tapped a pen on his desk. “Sure. Fill me in on the nightclub Kristina went to. This way I can find my girlfriend.”
“Kristina’s missing?” She gasped and covered her mouth with a well-manicured hand.
Her shock seemed genuine, so he decided not to take his growing ire over the situation out on her. He handed the letter to Vic who passed it on to his wife. She read it. Her face paled with each second ticking by.
“Oh my, Jack. I had no idea sending her to check out the underground club would get her into trouble. We heard talk that there might be some paranormal activity mixed in with some fetish play and other role playing, so we decided to scope it out to make sure it wasn’t anything more than just a nightclub.”
Vic turned in the chair. “How’d you find out about it all, anyway?”
“Um…” Biting her lower lip, she studied her fingers, obviously not wanting to answer her husband’s question.
“Malory?” Vic’s deep voice rumbled from his chest.
“An invite to the club. It was sent to Kristina directly.”
Jack was on his feet and leaning over his desk before he could think twice. “Excuse me? Kristina’s an elf. She’s been invited by a possible paranormal entity to an underground party, and neither of you decided to inform me of this?”
“We didn’t think you’d like it, and that you’d talk her out of going.” Lory’s brow furrowed.
Closing his eyes, Jack silently counted to ten. It wasn’t enough. Slowly, he repeated the numbers backwards and then looked at her. “Of course I don’t like it. Do you know how many illegal clubs I had a hand in shutting down during my tenure with Metro? How many women were drugged and taken advantage of? Not to mention the potential supernatural stuff. Of course I would have talked her out of going!”
“Yo, Jack, calm down, buddy.” Vic had risen to his feet, creating a bulky barrier between his wife and Jack. He glanced over his shoulder. “Do you still have the invite?”
Malory nodded. “I got a copy of it.”
“Then go get it.” He sat back in the chair. “Sorry about that, Jack. You know she doesn’t think like you do. You’ve been schooled in police investigation. Lory’s been taking classes regarding the paranormal. Two totally different worlds.” Vic picked at stray thread on his pants. “She’ll get the invite for you. You can learn where Kristina went and go get her back. Easy peasy. Then there’ll be no more friction between you and the gals?”
“Sure. Whatever you say, boss.” He retook his seat, picked up a pen and tapped it on his desk. It seemed like time stretched out in an unending ribbon while he waited for Lory to return with the information. All sorts of scenarios, most of them bad, ran through his head. He had to get his enchanted beauty back before something awful happened.
“Here you go, Jack.” Lory gave him the photocopy of Kristina’s invitation. “Sorry for the angst this caused. We both really believed it was harmless. Plus, she’s such a strong woman, so capable on her own and taking care of herself. It never crossed my mind she wouldn’t be able to pop out of the situation.”
Lory’s words barely registered with him. The moment the invite was in his hands, Jack scanned it for a name and address. Damn it. All it said was to meet a woman named Sidero at the Jupiter Hotel and Casino to get more information on the location of the party. Three days ago. It was signed by the same guy who’d signed his note.
“Well, fellas,” Lory interrupted his thought process. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to go to lunch.”
Jack and Vic shook their heads, and Jack checked the time on his computer. Five minutes until noon. Five minutes until he could meet a contact who’d tell him where he’d be able to find his girlfriend. Hopefully she wasn’t with some nut job who thought he was a vampire or some other kind of paranormal presence.
Las Vegas sure is a draw for the crazies. He couldn’t escape them when he was a cop, and it seemed he still couldn’t escape them as a PI. Jack locked the envelope, letter and copy of the invitation in his desk and went to go find the car that’d been sent.
Outside a black stretch limo idled in the summer heat. As he neared it, a man in a gray suit appeared.
“Mr. Vorst?”
Jack nodded, and the driver opened a door for him. Jack slid onto the cool, black leather seat in the back of the air-conditioned vehicle. The door shut behind him. He was alone in the dim interior. The car rolled away from the curb.
What the hell?
“Mr. Vorst. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me,” a female’s voice stated over an intercom. The darkened panel separating him from the front seat lightened to a smoky gray, silhouetting a woman’s profile. “You will be expected at Hexenringe tonight at ten. It’s in a warehouse a couple blocks west of Downtown. On top of the mini-fridge in front of you, you’ll find an envelope. Inside it is the address.”
Jack pulled his gaze from the window separating him and the speaker. He snatched the envelope off the small refrigerator and tore into it. The address and time were written on a slip of paper. He knew exactly where the warehouse was.
“In the fridge,” the voice continued, “you will find a plastic container with a rose boutonniere in it. You will need to wear the flower when you come to the club. Do not arrive at the location early or try any kind of tricks, like bringing backup or sneaking in. Your tactics won’t work, and you’ll never see your girl again should you attempt anything.”
The vehicle stopped. Jack looked out the window, tapping on the box he’d pulled from the refrigerator. Back at my office already.
The driver opened the door. A gust of dirt-scented heat filled the car. Jack slid out and by the time he moved from the pavement to the sidewalk the limo was pulling away. He didn't bother trying to memorize the license plate number. He knew he'd be tempted to call it in and track it, which would cause Kristina further problems. Jack ran a hand over his sweating face.
Ten hours. He had to wait ten hours. Patience wasn't one of his virtues, which meant they’d be the longest ten hours of his life
Chapter Two
Kristina floated high above the earth. Green valleys, with tall pines littering the hillsides, swept by below her. Dark gray and brown mountains bordering the plush area stretched high, kissing the blue sky with its white peaks.
A pleasant dream.
Feeling connected to the sights, the area, she sighed in her sleep and let the dream take its course. She loved when she dreamt she could fly. Enjoying the freedom of flight, she took control, dipped and spun, rolled onto her back and threw her arms out to the sides as if she were floating in a pool. Pure, child-like pleasure filled her. She laughed and the happy sound echoed through the gorge. A sudden drop in altitude had her righting herself and facing a small town.
The place seemed oddly familiar, but she knew she’d never been in the exact location before. She landed softly on a packed and rutted dirt road several feet from a row of two-storied cottages built close together on the edge of the town. Part stone and wood frames with plaster walls, the white and brown buildings reminded her of architecture she’d seen in historic towns in Europe.
Maybe that’s why this area doesn’t seem strange to me.
A piece of folded parchment sat next to the wooden Dutch door of the last house. Somehow she knew it was an invitation—something that would change the recipient’s life forever. Curious to see if her instinct was correct, she approached the home. She’d pick up the note, give it a quick read and place it back exactly as she found it. No one would be the wiser, and she’d have confirmation.
The door opened when Kristina was inches from her target. She stopped short, staring into the face of the maiden who swept pieces of straw and what looked to be pieces of food out the doorway. The sweeper, clothed in a plain gray dress covered with a white full body apron in front, hadn’t noticed her standing there, but she had caught sight of the document.
The young woman, wit
h hands wrinkled and worn from a lifetime of hard work, reached for the piece of paper. She unfolded the note and her brow furrowed over her green-eyed gaze.
Once more, Kristina had a fleeting recollection of something similar occurring in her life.
Those eyes. Her mannerisms. Weird. Do I know her? It feels like I do.
“Oh, if only I could read the scribbling,” the maiden said, then returned into the house.
In an instant, Kristina appeared inside next to the woman.
The young lady placed the broom she’d been using in a corner and called out to her master and mistress.
“Yes, what is it?” A short, rotund man, richly dressed in crimson and gold strolled into the room.
A woman, beautifully attired in gold and indigo, followed him. She peered at the maiden. “Is something amiss, Elinor?”
Elinor held out the note. “This was near the door. As you know I cannot read, I do not know what it says.”
The master of the house took the paper from their maid and looked it over. The older woman, glancing over his shoulder to read it with him, fanned her face.
The man smiled. “Why, miss, this is an invitation from the elves of the Hoher Bergwald. They wish you to become godmother to one of the newborn children. They will come for you at dusk this evening. Interesting that they chose an illiterate poor girl, a mere maid, and not someone of better standing. This must be a jest.”
“Master is right,” the girl agreed with a wobbly voice. “Why choose me? Why not someone from the town of more import? A woman who knows about childbirth and babies?”
The mistress cupped her chin. “Why you? Why not? You are a lovely girl with goodness in your heart, and you are strong in your principles. You may not have the riches and high standing that others do, but you are special. If this truly is a missive from the elves, be honored they sought you.” The woman smiled.
