Vegas Bites

by Dunbar, Natalie; Glass, Seressia; Jeffries, J. M. ; Banks, L. A.

  She didn’t have to say it twice. Havoc practically dragged her to the elevators, and then walked in an agitated circle because one wasn’t coming fast enough.

  “We could take the stairs, you know.” she said coolly, studying her nails and cleaning fur and flesh out from beneath them as she waited for the elevator.

  “Yeah, but, your other man could be in there with his boyz,” Havoc said like the punk he was. “I can smell ’em in there from before. That’s where the fight broke out, right?”

  “True,” she said with a weary sigh. Then she had an idea. “You got anything for the head in your room?”

  “Sure, sis. Weed, coke, E, dust, whatever. You know that’s our trade.”

  She looked out the window. “I like things fast… you know what I mean?”

  He nodded and hustled her onto the elevator, depressed his floor button, and then crushed her against the wall, grinding on her thigh. “Speed, you want some meth?”

  “That could work.”

  “Damn, I can’t believe you fought for me like that,” he said, his hot bourbon breath coating her neck.

  He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head. “Your lip is split, and one of your dead alphas hit me in my face. It still hurts.” That was the truth, but not the reason she’d turned away.

  “It’s cool, it’s all good,” he said, running his hands up and down her sides. “My nose is broke and my lip is split anyway, like you said. Once you turn around, none of that will matter, though.”

  “Glad you understand it wasn’t personal.”

  Laurel fought not to bite him in his nose and rip it off his face. She smiled as pleasantly as possible. He hadn’t even mentioned the fact that she took a roundhouse in the jaw by a strong male. Pussy.

  “Naw, baby, I knew that after I saw how you was down for whatever.” He shuddered against her, beginning to dry-hump her leg. Betas. Laurel sighed. The elevator stopped. “Do me a favor and don’t cum on my dress. My man will take serious exception, and won’t understand.” “Cool, cool, my bad,” Havoc said, backing off her to allow her to exit the elevator.

  He ran ahead of her, fumbled with his wallet, got out the card key, and opened the door. She couldn’t believe that he was practically puppy dancing, moving from foot-to-foot as she leisurely strolled down the hall and slipped into his room. Beyond disgusted, she willed herself not to flinch when he had grabbed her arm, spun her around fast, and pinned her to the door. He’d yanked her so hard that he’d knocked the wind out of her.

  She looked up at the sprinkler system, trying to ignore the fact that he was now furiously dry-humping her ass. “Uh, the meth you were gonna tighten a sister up with?”

  “In a minute,” he said, trying to get to his zipper.

  “Oh, so it’s like that, huh? I put my life at risk, fight for your ass, go up against three hard alpha females, and I gotta wait till you cum before I can even get a damned meal or a little somethin’ somethin’ for my head—mind you, I’ma probably get my ass kicked when I get home for sneaking out.”

  “Oh, c’mon, baby, you know it’s not like that. I—”

  “See, I shoulda known.…”

  He backed up, and then finally rolled off her to thud against the wall with a groan. “Naw. I got it in the room.”

  “You ain’t never been with an alpha female have you?”

  He looked at her, straightened, and squared his shoulders. “Whatchu talkin’ about? I been with plenty.”

  “Yeah, okay. That’s why you can’t be cool enough to go get me what I asked you for, first.”

  He glared at her and walked over to the closet, slung the door open, and squatted down to put the code in the room safe. “That ain’t it,” he argued, grabbing out several handfuls of plastic bags, brandishing them for her to inspect. “It’s only on account of the fact that you’re in heat… and we was fighting together and shit… and, damn, baby, whatchu want? I got a store right here.”

  Laurel smiled as his voice cracked. Part of her felt bad that it was gonna go down like it was, but hey. She came over to him as he stood panting and looked at the bags.

  “What’s the one with the purple tint running through it? That looks freaky.”

  “No, no, you don’t want that,” he said quickly, separating the bag out from the others and tossing it back into the opened safe. “That’ll mess up your head, and the last thing I want tonight is for your head to be that messed up.”

  Laurel put her hands on her hips. It had to be what she was looking for. “Oh, okay, so you save the good shit for the VIP’s, right? I ain’t a VIP? Fuck you. Go find a beta female or jerk off, but—”

  “No, no, no, you don’t understand,” he said, body-blocking her as she headed for the door. “It’s no good. Shitty batch.”

  “Yeah, right,” she muttered, trying to step around him. “Word in the hallways was that you guys had a special sex-blend for the male vamp high-rollers coming through. All the females in every species are talking about it in the ladies rooms. That’s why I was fighting to get with you tonight… figured if you had a little aphrodisiac to blow my mind, along with your fine ass, damn… I’d be done. Would probably start howling before you put it in, if I let you. But since you’re not sharing, I’m leaving. Boop—I’m gone.”

  “No, baby—don’t bounce yet! Uh, listen, it ain’t like you think, for real.”

  “Then how is it, Havoc? Talk to me real clear, so I understand.” She looked at him hard and folded her arms over her chest as his eyes slid shut in agony. Conflict was eating him alive, she could feel it, so she pressed on with her bogus story. “You saw my man. Does he look like the kind of brother that would tolerate some shit like this? But if I came home good and high, and still tripping enough to make him forget why he was mad… you know, you know. I could live and maybe come see you again on the regular. Sneak tip. That is, if I was so inclined and had a reason. You haven’t given me a good enough reason to piss Butch off yet and let you mount me.”

  Havoc opened his eyes and traced Laurel’s cheek with trembling fingers. “Baby, I want you so much right now, I’m stupid. I’ma tell you something that’s gotta stay on the down low, between me and you, all right? Let me explain before you just sashay your fine ass outta here. Baby, trust me, you could have anything I had in here, if it wouldn’t make you sick. Can you do that for me? Just listen to a brother’s plea?”

  Laurel lowered her eyes and slowly unfolded her arms. “As long as you’re not trying to play me… all right. Why can’t I have any of your best stuff?”

  “Because it’s poison.” He said quietly, now tracing her collarbone and staring at her breasts.

  “Oh, man,” she scoffed. “I can’t believe you’re one of those tired-ass dealers with a conscience—the whole ‘I’ll deal to the fools on the street, but don’t want my lady to taste my product,’ kinda rhetoric.”

  “No, that ain’t it,” he said, touching the V in her neck with the pad of his thumb, but not yet bold enough to just body-snatch her to him. “I mean its real poison. Will kill you in the morning, especially if you’re a vamp. It’s cut with a nasty mix in it.”

  “Then why’d you made some bullshit like that?” she said, beginning to pet his chest. Havoc leaned against the wall as her fingertips glided over his nipples. “Seems like a waste of good drugs.”

  “It’s for the vamps,” he said on a thick swallow, unable to keep his eyes open as her hand slid down his torso, then slowly stroked his belly. “Damn, girl, you’re hot.”

  “Who cares about the vamps? Snob bastards. Why poison ’em, when you can probably rob their lairs blind in the daylight?”

  “You’d be down for something like that in your clan’s hotel?” he murmured in a heavy, impassioned growl.

  She fought not to cringe and dropped her hand to his crotch. “Do I seem like a sister who’s down for whatever?” The statement was non-committal, but at this point, he wasn’t splitting hair about semantics.

  He nodded and began b
reathing through his mouth as her hand slid across his hard length. “Damn, baby, take it out.”

  “Oh, so now you can’t hear me, huh?” She released a forced chuckle.

  “I can’t really concentrate right now.”

  She squeezed him, producing a moan. “I said, why are you wasting good drugs on the vamps instead of making the good shit for Were clans? I just wanna be sure you’re not holding back on me, trying to mess with my mind.”

  He pulled her to him hard and found her neck, but had to come in easy or risk hurting his broken nose. “Although you’ve messed my head up, I can’t hold back from you. There’s something big about to go down. You want in on our side… wanna come with me and be my woman?”

  “You serious, you’d try to break me out of here?” Laurel let out a hard breath; no way was she telling him she’d go against her clan or be his woman. But she could ask questions and get direct answers at this point. “How would you do that?”

  “It got a little delayed, due to the fight in the casino, but by tomorrow night, wheels will be in motion. That next morning, the bullshit will hit the fan. By that following evening, this joint will be under new management.” He pulled back and looked at her hard. “So, lemme ask you again. You wanna be my woman?”

  Laurel smiled as an elder, aristocrat vampire materialized behind Havoc in the bathroom. It was very cool how the European brother did it—no reflection, no peripheral vision cue. Smooth, wearing a tux, too… battle bulked with about seven inches of fangs in his mouth, eyes gleaming red fury while four more thick-bodied male vampires materialized behind him looking like bouncers. Their silent stealth was awesome, and she had to give the species their due. She finally nodded, but the nod was for the vampires. Her clan couldn’t be seen as culpable to a werewolf setup.

  As coolly as possibly, she led Havoc by the hand to position him in front of the opened bathroom door.

  “All right, I hear you,” she finally said.

  Havoc let out his breath hard. “Good, then where were we, pretty lady?”

  A chain flipped over Havoc’s head so fast and caught his windpipe that he hadn’t seen it coming. Laurel screamed for dramatic effect, which brought Butch and Marcus barreling through the door. Havoc released a strangled wolf cry that his clan heard. Vampires stormed the room from every direction as Butch pushed Laurel behind him, again, just for drama. This had to go down right. Malcolm and his clan’s security forces were in the room with half of the rival clan within moments. VIP vamps brought human helpers brandishing silver-shell-loaded pump-shotguns and Uzis. It was a standoff.

  “What’s going on in my hotel, Sir Helmsley? Why do you have a were-clan guest in a threatening position? I demand an explanation!” Malcolm shot his gaze around snarling were-clans and hissing vampires, playing the sting ruse to the bone.

  “I have him on treason,” Sir Helmsley said coolly, tightening the chain against Havoc’s throat as he futilely struggled. He looked down at his captive and snarled. “Shift, and I will snap your neck before fur forms, trust me. I have dealt with this before, as old as I am.”

  Helmsley waited until Havoc ceased growling and turning, relaxed the chain just enough so Havoc could breathe, then related everything he’d heard Havoc tell Laurel.

  For effect, Butch squared off on Laurel. “Is that true, he said that to you?” Witnesses were an important part of vigilante justice, if one wanted to stem a war.

  Laurel nodded, making her eyes tear. “I just asked him about the get-high.”

  “Then what were you doing here! You could’ve had him bring it to you in the bar.” Butch looked at her and kept his expression hard, walking closer to her in a threatening way that only Were males would take as realistic.

  All eyes were on Laurel as she cringed and took a submissive position, lowering her head. “They tried to jump me in the bar,” she wailed, going girlie-girl on Butch for effect. She pointed at Havoc’s clan. “Ask ’em, their three big alpha females jumped me while I was all alone, that’s why I came up here with him. Shit, Butch, I was in heat, they were acting funny, and tonight, I needed something for my head!”

  She waited for Butch to scan Havoc’s clan, and as eyes slid away from his, the Temple clan growled. Good. The story was plausible and told in a way that would save Butch face, just in case rumors cropped up, and those always did.

  “You tried to jump our female for no reason, when she was making a buy?” Marcus snarled, gaining nods from the other males in his clan, then scanned theirs. “That shit was low.”

  “Oughta kick your ass on general principle,” Guy growled, but stepped back into the pack as Butch glared at him.

  “I wanted to get high, that’s all,” Laurel said, sounding forlorn. “He asked me to be his woman, but I never committed to all of that—and no, I didn’t give him any tail.”

  Butch glanced at Helmsley. Everyone on the were-clan inside knew it was important to preserve the alpha male’s dignity by having the story corroborated by an uninvolved third party, if original power lines were to be maintained. An invisible vampire with an inscrutable reputation was just such an entity. All eyes went to Helmsley. This part was important to have as word on the street, in case any of the rival clan’s members escaped or were allowed to live.

  “The lady speaks the truth,” the older vampire said calmly, dropping his hold on Havoc to smooth his tuxedo lapels and distinguished brunette hair, paying special attention to the neat silver-gray at his temples. “But he did try to seduce her.” Helmsley smiled, clearly knowing that was reason enough for a death sentence served by Butch.

  Havoc backed up deeper into the room, holding up his hands in front of him. “Yo, man, I didn’t know that it was like that between you and her, and uh, see, what had happened was—that vamp bastard lied on me, man! For real!”

  Butch walked forward slowly, stalking Havoc, glimpsing Havoc’s clan’s stricken expressions as he passed them. Their leader had been punked down, and their game was busted by some old-world vamps that now had a grudge. He snarled at Havoc, then suddenly rushed him and punched him in the face, sprawling him on the floor. Malcolm jumped between Butch and the limp body on the carpet.

  “Okay, okay, Butch. Stand down. Your lady held the line and was obviously just up here for a little recreational—even though I don’t permit it among my clan.” He glanced at Laurel. “Your reprimand comes later, Laurel, and depending on my mood in the morning, I might let this slide given your condition… and may elect to chalk it up to your seeing all these brawls tonight. But we have a more serious issue.”

  Malcolm went to the safe and looked at the bags of dope on the floor, then focused on Havoc’s clan. “First of all, nobody from my clan gave your clan permission to distribute illegal substances on our premises.”

  Malcolm’s clan snarled and vampires slowly nodded their heads, red eyes glowing.

  “Second of all, to poison VIP guests for no reason is a major felony. Attempted murder is a death sentence,” Malcolm growled.

  Havoc’s clan began to back up, but they were boxed in on both sides of the hall—vampires had come in through the windows and walked through the walls on one end, Malcolm’s clan was on the other end by the elevators.

  “It wasn’t us,” Cutter’s wife argued, holding the bloodied place were her ear used to be. “We got set up by the vampires.”

  Hisses greeted her statement as vampires and their human helpers leered.

  “It’s true!” Fang’s wife shouted. “Jacques, Claude, family of all those guys from the identity theft ring were in on it—their families wanted to avenge their deaths. They said the old world dudes didn’t protect them like they should have, and the Temple clan dusted them, so… They asked us to make the product, but what they did with it was their business!”

  “You can’t blame the manufacturers,” Mad Dawg’s wife yelled. “This is a war between the vampires, we ain’t in it. We just supplied the weapons.”

  Malcolm glanced around. “That’s up to Helmsley.�
��

  The old world vampire nodded and brushed invisible lint off his pristine white collar.

  “All I know is,” Malcolm said evenly, “I want your asses off my casino property forever. That is permanent banishment for even bringing this shit to my door. Me and Sir Helmsley go way back… we have respect for each other’s way of doing business. Since you brought it here, but no damage happened, all I’ll do is put you out.” He looked at Sir Helmsley and both entities shared a knowing smile. “However, how he deems to handle it after that is his business. The Temple clan washes their hands of it and of you.”

  “You can’t turn us over to vampires!” Cutter’s wife shrieked, her nervous gaze ricocheting around the other standing were-clan members.

  “In my world, which is very medieval, we have ways of making the night feel eternal… and we will get to the bottom of the extent of your involvement,” Sir Helmsley smiled a slow, sinister grin. “Let us hope that you were only suppliers and not directly bearers of arms against us. For you know how we vampires think of treason… once a grudge has been lodged, it is forever written in blood. Ask Machiavelli.”

  “Oh, shit!” Fang’s wife screamed and covered her head.

  Instantly, black vampire transport clouds thundered down the hall in angry tornados with a screeching fury of red-eyed warrior bats in them. Rival clan members tried to shift into werewolves and break through doors, and those that panicked were summarily shot. Hundreds of vampire guards grappled with werewolves in the tornadoes that immediately swept the entire rival clan away. Sir Helmsley calmly adjusted his sleeves and stared at his manicure until the dust settled.

  “Malcolm, let me buy you a drink,” Sir Helmsley said. “This could have been very unfortunate and extremely embarrassing to the coalitions with our nations. You take Rémy neat, correct?”

  Malcolm smiled. “Private label, in my office?”

  “Done,” Sir Helmsley crooned. “And I have dispatched a retinue of scythe bearers to hunt down those crass, new money vampires that would treacherously aid a plot like this. Hoodlums.” He glanced at Havoc, and then his henchmen. “Make him disappear—permanently. A man should never attempt to put his hands on another man’s woman, unless he’s prepared to suffer the consequences—and do see that he suffers… all night.” Helmsley smiled a sinister smile at Butch, then at Malcolm. “Thank you, gentlemen, for giving us the bodies and the warning. Since fair exchange is no robbery, how about if I repair your first floor and other losses?”