by Dunbar, Natalie; Glass, Seressia; Jeffries, J. M. ; Banks, L. A.
“And after they do the drop off, they sit back and wait, then bum rush the lairs, right?” Tension was winding down Butch’s spine as he practically held his breath for Ecstasy’s confirmation.
“Oh… no…” she said, finishing her wine. “They wait for the bodies to be found tomorrow night. There will be an all-out assault on the hotel from the vampire nations, if a large number of their VIPs, again, came to an unhealthy ending in this establishment. And of course, since the bodies won’t be robbed, and the rival clan will be there to backup the vamps with heavy artillery to minimize any vampire casualties… it will look like your family did it. You guys did something shady in the hand off, or the switch when it got up to the penthouses—that the hotel management has access to with keys.”
“This set up is so freakin’ foul…”
“Yes, Butch. It is. Very vampire-like. That’s why I’m sure they received assistance from the identity theft ring of new money holders. Old world vampires wouldn’t engross themselves in such machinations for a little hotel, but newly made, greedy bastards would. The old boys play for shares of countries, not a Vegas strip hotel.” She shook her head. “This is small time, relatively speaking—even though I’m sure it means a lot to you.”
Butch looked at her hard, not angry, just trying to wrap his mind around the scale of old money vampire life as he spoke. “If the Preternatural Authorities got wind of this, it would all come out in court though,” he said, taking a deep swallow from his drink. “You’re right, though. This is big time for us. We can’t have the family reputation screwed like that.”
“If it went to a lawsuit, the vampires would own this jewel. But we know it won’t come to a thrilling legal conclusion—these guys are old world and serve justice in a very medieval fashion. Feudal, perhaps, but effective. And they’ll break off a share to those who supported them. The establishment will be co-owned by them and a clan that can produce a product that will draw dignitaries from even the international set. You follow now?” Ecstasy kissed his cheek. “You’ve been played.”
She sighed as she stood, openly shaking her head for theater so that anyone looking would think she’d declined to service him. “Actually, your old bounty is what gave them the idea. The vamps had a grudge, and we never forget a wrong. Centuries can go by, and it’s like it happened yesterday. The rival clan saw an opportunity to exploit the code of vengeance we hold so dear… and voilà.” She kissed him again quickly. “I have to go, sweetie. Deliver my money tonight; large bills will be fine. You know the lair. I’ll be working the hotel, but you be careful.”
“Thanks, baby,” he murmured and clasped her hand to hold her for a moment. It wasn’t for theater. “You be careful, too, and get off the premises before morning.”
She just smiled and sauntered away. Butch looked around at the victorious expressions of the leering male vampires and flashed them a snarl.
He had to call Malcolm from a very private place. This was urgent.
Okay, two could play this game. Laurel stepped out of her room wearing a strapless black dress with her weapon firmly affixed to her thigh. If Butch Maverick wanted undercover, then she’d show the man how it was done. A female werewolf trailing heat-scent on a casino floor was a pure force of nature.
Chapter Five
Malcolm wasn’t in his office—damn! He’d wanted to tell the boss face-to-face. It was a full moon and Marcus’ cellular was going straight to voicemail. Laurel wasn’t in her suite and wouldn’t pick up her cell.
Butch strode through the hallway on a mission and headed for the stairs. He needed to get to his room to place several red alert calls where there’d be no eavesdroppers. Couldn’t do it anywhere on the floor where it might look like he’d left an informant and went right for the phone. Ecstasy would be at risk, and she’d never be missed until the next night. Her lair seal couldn’t be opened during the day; the light would fry her if she was there, or destroy her body as evidence of foul play, if not.
As he took to the stairs, he heard a door open on the floor above him and one below him. He rolled his shoulders, preparing for a fight, sensing one coming by instinct. Guy strolled down the steps. Troy and Oliver boxed him in.
“Not now, man,” Butch snarled. “There’s some serious shit going on with the family.”
“You bet there is, motherfucker,” Guy snarled and spat. “You come back here after being gone for almost five years and tag my lady right in the hotel where we both work?”
Butch just stared at him for a moment. The important message he was carrying battled with the direct alpha challenge. “Your ass is delusional. Had she been yours, nothing woulda went down… and after five years, you cocky son of a bitch, trust me, you oughta hang your dawg head if I could walk back in here like that and pull her during a heat.”
Ball game. The gauntlet had been thrown down. Shapes shifted in a whir. Clothes dropped to the floor. Two huge combatants were in the air. Canines ripped at limbs. Cement walls crumbled in huge chunks as massive wolf bodies slammed against them and came away in a tangle of fur. Barks echoed in the stairwell from the beta referees urging the mortal combat forward.
Tumbling down three stairwell flights with jaws locked together, claws slashed at barrel chests, then the stalemate broke so that male wolves could circle, pant, and lunge again. The steel banister gave way to a two-story drop. Both combatants reared on their hindquarters. Butch threw a punch that blew Guy through the door and onto the casino floor.
Moon madness had Butch in its grip. He was up on a roulette table, jaws dripping blood and saliva. Guests screamed and rushed about, but to his battle-focused mind, they sounded like tiny, annoying birds scattering, so far away. He had another male Lupine in his sight, and they both turned at the same time to see Laurel’s horrified expression. Her scent was in the air as the three alpha males that were competing for her attention stood, dropped human form and lunged.
It was on. Every male for himself, but the grudge match was really between Butch and Guy. Security tried to surround them, but couldn’t get a shot off without injuring the wrong inner clan wolf. Tables crashed into splinters, dealers dove for cover, and vampires took spectator positions on the ceiling, enjoying the testosterone display.
Slot machines slammed into walls, spilling thousands on non-silver slugs. Phantoms squealed with delight. Beta males barked in agitated circles, while females eagerly awaited the victors, getting turned on by the blood lust as huge bodies tore at battle-thickened coats, trying to take a throat.
When Butch saw Guy go down under three foreign clan attackers with a yelp, something fragile snapped within him. That was still family—beef between brothers; outsiders were dog meat.
He leapt onto the first attacker’s back, caught a wrist as it rose to claw out Guy’s eye, and yanked the arm out of the socket. From the corner of his peripheral vision, he saw Laurel drop her dress and shift to jump into the fray.
She’d pinned an alpha and came away with a rib bone, but he’d punched her in the face and sent her sprawling. That was it. The offender’s esophagus came away from his throat as Butch’s jaws took it out from the Adam’s apple. When he spun on the third attacker, Guy was able to scramble away.
The two hunting male wolves circled each other slowly. Laurel got back up and circled from behind, snarling, helping to box in Butch’s prey. A pump shotgun blast made all wolf forms freeze.
“Not in my establishment!” Malcolm bellowed, casting off the silver slug-filled gun to an underling and shifting into a huge, gray wolf with glowing eyes.
The outnumbered wolf lowered his head.
“That’s my sister!” Malcolm growled, “And my brother-in-law.” He looked at Laurel and then at Butch two seconds before he lunged, flipped the attacker, and came away with entrails, snapping.
Butch slowly stood, and shifted back. Laurel did as well and came back to her luscious human form, holding her face. Malcolm rolled his shoulder, straightened, and spit out bits of intestines. Slowly, everyon
e who’d lost it shifted and stood calmly naked. One-by-one, hands came together in a steady, methodical applause.
“Damn straight,” Malcolm said, leaning his head back and howling, “Family first!”
Rounds of howls sent shivers down Lupine spines as vampires and assorted entities passed curious glances.
“This is why we generally do not frequent these types of establishments,” one very aristocratic vampire said, smoothing his ruffled shirt and extending his elbow to his wife. “It’s not done quite this way where we’re from. I’m afraid we’ll have to withdraw from the tournament.”
Butch watched the early arrival vampires slowly withdraw in a huff, taking their human helper population with them, as well as several galled phantoms. Whatever. His gaze slowly tracked Laurel as she calmly dressed, as did every other male wolf on the casino floor. It was definitely worth it.
Memory slowly came back about how it all got started as he glanced at Guy and couldn’t help himself. The growl came out of nowhere, from some deep chamber in his chest. The crowd tensed again with nervous anticipation.
“She’s mine. Period!” Butch said, pointing at Guy. “We can finish it to the death in the parking lot!” Laurel tiled her head. “Have you lost your mind, Barron Maverick?”
Guy growled and began to circle him to shift again.
“Completely,” Butch shouted, ready to go back to wolf on a dime. “I am very crazy right now, Laurel. You’d better tell your boy just how insane I can be!”
“Stand down,” Malcolm snarled at Guy. “The man saved your life, and this time, I won’t get in it if you challenge him for her— but will if anybody else tries to break the two combatants up.” He snatched his suit pants from the floor and yanked them on. “If I don’t break it up like I did when you were kids, and your betas don’t assist, tonight I think you’ll get your ass kicked—but do as you like, brother. The choice to die in a mate contest battle is always yours.”
Guy hocked, spit and stepped back, sufficiently cowed.
“I thought so, bitch,” Butch muttered, snarling at Guy and ignoring the appreciative glances of the females he passed. He didn’t know where his clothes were. All he was sure of was that he needed space and distance before he killed somebody.
Butch stopped walking, passed Laurel with a slight shudder, and looked at Malcolm. “We need to talk, ASAP. Bring Laurel.” Malcolm nodded. “Meet me in my office.” He looked around at the destroyed casino floor. “Clean this up,” he said to his employees. “For those guests who are staying, the tournament will obviously have to be postponed. Rooms, drinks, and dinners on the house for this evening to anyone who wishes to stay. Vouchers to reimburse those leaving for tonight can be picked up at the Concierge’s desk. Our apologies from the management.” With that, Malcolm zipped up his pants and followed Butch and Laurel toward the stairs.
“What!” Malcolm yelled, pounding his fist on the desk and splintering the wood. “In my hotel?”
“Yeah… that’s what she told me, boss.” Butch walked in an agitated circle.
“Then why didn’t we out them right on the floor in front of the vamps?” Laurel folded her arms, believing his story, but still battle-hyped.
“Because with the obvious dissention in our ranks, and without solid proof without outing my source—which could put her life in jeopardy with her own kind forever,” Butch said, staring at Laurel hard, “and with an unknown factor of armed mercenaries from a foreign clan, if I just stood up on a table and blurted it out, shocking Malcolm, it would seem like I was the one who had foreknowledge and was trying to take over this clan.”
Butch looked at Malcolm with respect. “They would think that the brawl that began in the stairwell and spilled out into the gaming floor was from internal affairs of our clan going through a power struggle about whether or not to poison the vamps.”
“Correct,” Malcolm said between his teeth. “An attempt to poison them would be viewed no differently than an actual, successful group assassination. They would have begun the war right then and there with witnesses and under justified circumstances—and as Butch said; the traitors would have rushed in to back them up when we weren’t expecting an attack like that.”
“The vamps deal in absolutes, like we do,” Butch said, spiting out blood and testing a loose canine between his fingers. “Any display of wavering loyalty is like a slap in the face to them.”
“So what do we do?” Laurel’s eyes sought Butch’s, and oddly not Malcolm’s. Not wanting to overstep his bounds, Butch glanced at Malcolm.
“We call a family meeting tonight—a brief one.” Malcolm let out a weary breath. “We make sure we have enough reinforcements of artillery, should there be an attempted attack. But we’re gonna need a sample of this mystery meth—and catch the Lupine who’s passing it. Meanwhile, I need to also let the VIP vampires quietly know not to touch any controlled substance given to them anywhere, because there’s a bad batch floating around… this has to be done in a way that allows them to save face.”
Butch nodded. “Yeah. Let them be a part of the sting so they know we’re interested in the truth, and only that. But it has to come from Malcolm, or it’ll look like a power fracture.”
“Then, let’s do this,” Laurel said calmly, heading for the door. “You’re gonna have to hang me out as bait for the remaining betas in Cutter’s clan. You know the deal—the strongest one just stepped up after all three of the leaders went down. Every male out there is trembling from the post-battle adrenaline. It’s a full moon. He saw me shift. He saw me fight. He saw me naked. I’m in heat. And due to the brawl, he hasn’t been laid yet—probably never by an alpha female.”
Malcolm and Butch just stared behind her as she slipped out the door and closed it softly behind her.
“You okay, man?” Malcolm asked in a low, concerned tone.
Butch shook his head no, staring at the door. “You heard the woman… It’s a full moon. I saw her shift. I saw her fight. I saw her naked. She’s in heat… and due to the brawl…”
Malcolm simply nodded and landed a hand on Butch’s shoulder. “Let’s get the meeting done fast. After this shit, I need to go find my mate, too.”
Butch could barely concentrate on what was being said, beyond the strength of their forces—everything else he’d already heard. The huge bruise on Laurel’s face was the thing that stole his attention. He so badly wanted to get up and help her nurse it with ice, but that would diminish her worth as a alpha warrior in front of the pack, and he’d never do that to her.
But if Guy didn’t stop cutting his eyes at him with Troy and Oliver, the bull would bubble over again and the family meeting would be disrupted. The family couldn’t afford that again. Everyone had to be on focus, had to have their ears keened and their eyes opened. Malcolm was right. Distractions could no longer be tolerated. Easier said than done.
“So, until the main gaming floor is pulled back together, we’ll use the convention center space on the second floor for tournament tables as well as Black Jack and poker tables. We can set up temporary bars in there to replace the central bar that got trashed. On the third floor,” Marcus said, “in the meeting rooms, we can salvage whatever undamaged slot machines we have, save one for another bar, and also add a bar to the pool area. Essentially, the first floor— other than the restaurants that somehow made it, will be closed for renovations until further notice. The PR media spin will be that we’re expanding for guest improvements. End of story.”
Malcolm nodded, appearing satisfied. He then glanced at Laurel. “You ready to go in?”
She nodded. “Piece of cake.”
Butch clenched his fists but kept his mouth shut. Not ever being a beta male, he had no real frame of reference for what happened in intimate encounters until Ecstasy told him. But now the thought of Laurel playing with a beta male disgusted him to no end.
Malcolm saw the slight bristle. “You’re her main backup,” he said to Butch as calmly as he could. “They heard you claim her, a
nd when she’s ready to come out of there, you know what to do.”
Butch nodded, but the glare Guy shot his way put him on his feet. He pointed at Guy across the room, canines lowering and a dangerous shift eminent. “I thought we got this shit clear downstairs!”
Eleven family members eased back, waiting for Guy’s response. When Guy looked away, shoulders relaxed.
“Okay, then. Everybody knows what to do.” Malcolm set a calming gaze on Butch and let out a weary breath. “Save it for the sting, man. Save it for the sting.”
Butch walked beside Laurel, and then suddenly slung his arm over her shoulder in a possessive hold.
“I don’t like it,” he said.
“Neither do I, but I have to do it.”
He stopped walking as they neared the elevators, and he gently touched her chin, turning her face to study her cheek. “You should put some ice on that.”
“It’ll heal by tomorrow,” she said quietly, covering his large hand. She brushed his mouth with a kiss. “You were awesome.”
He tilted his head and let his fingers tangle in her hair. “But you were magnificent,” he murmured. “I’ve never seen you really fight since we were kids… and then it was just family scraps—not a death struggle.”
She smiled and looked away shyly. “Sorry I savaged your arm.”
“I deserved it,” he said quietly, forgetting to depress the elevator button.
“No you didn’t. You hadn’t lied to me… and the info Ecstasy got for you was worth every penny.”
“I didn’t do her in the lot, Laurel. That I swear to you.”
“I know… I was going from old memory, because the old Barron would have.”
He laughed quietly. “Yeah. Sad but true. The old Barron would have.”
