Vegas Bites

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

  “What about the girl?”

  “Her name is Kellie, and she came to town to bury her grandmother and settle her affairs. Then the wolves attacked.” He spread his notebook in the center of the table. “Some of the wolves that attacked wore gold chains with medallions like this.”

  All studied the sketch, but no one seemed to recognize the medallion, so he continued. “The pack of wildings still wants her for some reason. She was nearly attacked as she left the hospital. Right now she is our best chance of catching them, so until we find and eliminate the bunch, I will protect her.”

  “She is yours?” his cousin Ria asked, apparently sensing something in his manner that the others didn’t.

  Garen hesitated, unwilling to claim what he felt without some word or encouragement from Kellie. “She is under my protection. Until she is safe, no one else approaches her unless I say so.”

  “She is one of us then?” Ria pressed, drawing more conclusions from his hesitation. “A werewolf?”

  Garen shot her a warning glance. Not only were her questions annoying, they drew attention to the fact that there was or might be something between him and Kellie. As far as he was concerned, Kellie was still an unknown. “We won’t know for sure until the next full moon.”

  Kellie awakened on a bed of soft, slightly damp towels and sheets. Rubbing herself against them, she stretched luxuriously. Sunlight poured in from the sheer panel in the middle of the gold drapes to illuminate the room. She was alone.

  She sat up in the bed, surprised to find that she was naked. Then she remembered falling asleep in the hot tub. Garen had taken her out of the tub and put her to bed. By agreement, he was acting as her bodyguard, and it was something she’d never experienced. She’d fought hard against it, but his affect on her, the things she needed to do for Nana, and her need for independence had been at the core of her struggle. With the other, growing connection between them, she was beginning to think of him as hers and wonder what it would be like to have him around once this rogue werewolf business was settled. It put a new twist on her perceptions.

  She’d dreamt about him. Her body warmed at the memory. That wide mouth of his had covered hers, and then covered her skin with kisses.…

  Wrapped in a towel, Kellie got up to get her clothes from the bathroom. They weren’t there. Grumbling to herself, she all but tore the room apart, searching for them. The more she looked, the angrier she became. Her clothes were gone. Garen Roy had taken her clothes to make sure she’d stay in the room.

  Stalking around the room, she finally noticed the big box in the chair by the bed. It was filled with clothes. Garen had obviously left it for her. Inside, there were two of everything, from underwear to jeans, shorts and tops. She went through them, her lips twisting wryly at the lace thongs and matching bras. The prospect of fresh clothing was too good to be ignored.

  Freshening up, she dressed hurriedly. Too much time had passed since she’d been at Nana’s. She needed to go back and retrieve the packet of things she found and replaced in Nana’s hiding place behind the artificial fireplace.

  She’d come to Vegas to bury Nana, but she hadn’t been able to find the body. Nana had been declared dead at St. Mary’s and moved to the morgue, but somehow the body had disappeared before the funeral home had a chance to pick it up. Kellie didn’t know what to think. Nana had been powerful in her day, and so much so that in addition to the private service she wanted, Kellie was still bound to hold an official sort of ritual service and invite all Nana’s friends of power, whether she found Nana’s body or not. The service would have to be scheduled per Nana’s will.

  Working through her tangled hair with the little comb she kept in her purse, she tried to decide what she should do next. She’d already been to St. Mary’s and talked to the staff. She’d even made a police report and did an escorted search of the morgue at the hospital and coroner’s office. Dead bodies didn’t get up and walk unless they were vamps. Nana had been something else. Exactly what, Kellie had never been able to determine. Nana kept most of her secrets. As far as Kellie could determine, the old woman had been at least a couple of hundred years old.

  Going back to St. Mary’s was a dead end. Going back to Nana’s would be dangerous. The wolves were obviously still after her. She still didn’t know why. There had been attacks across the country before she came to Vegas, but none in Nana’s neighborhood. If the wolves had had something to do with Nana’s disappearing body, she’d know, wouldn’t she? There was nothing subtle about them.

  Kellie went to the door. She would go back to Nana’s under Garen’s protection, but that didn’t mean she had to cower in her room until he returned. Outside the room, a chunky young man in a navy suit stood. He was built like a wrestler with dreadlocks that reached his shoulders. At the sound of the door opening he turned, his body blocking the entrance.

  She stopped short, weighing her options. He smelled like werewolf, but if he was one of her attackers, he’d missed a prime opportunity to kill or kidnap her in her sleep. “Where’s Garen?” she asked, startled at how easily the name rolled off her tongue.

  “I am Paul,” he said in a voice that grated like rough sandpaper. Light brown eyes sized her up curiously. His nostrils flared briefly as he caught her scent. “I work for Garen. He had a meeting. I will guard you until he returns.”

  “I’m going to look around the hotel,” she announced, moving around him and starting down the hall.

  After a second, he followed.

  Kellie strolled around the hotel and casino, taking in the plush surroundings. The complex contained a full gym that she vowed to return to, a full service spa, and several restaurants. Ignoring the deep rumbling in her stomach, she lingered in her favorite place, the serene white carpeted lobby where the glass walls and alcoves were filled with blue salt water and all sorts of live creatures from the ocean. After all the excitement of the past days and weeks, the visual beauty was calming.

  “Would you like to get something to eat?”

  Garen’s voice broke in on her revelry.

  She didn’t hear him approach, but she certainly caught his earthy, outdoorsy scent mixed with cologne. It sent excitement strumming through her body. Glancing at him in surprise, she could see that he knew the effect he had on her senses and wasn’t immune to her either. There was a light in his heated cognac eyes.

  “I want to get my things from Nana’s, but I am hungry,” she said, getting up from the white leather couch. “What did you have in mind?”

  He ran down the list of the restaurants in the complex. Kellie shook her head to every one. She couldn’t make things too easy for him, could she?

  He eyed her silently, and then led her back to the casino and through a set of double doors to the hotel/casino complex next door. It was the French Quarter and built to emulate the French Quarter in New Orleans.

  Chapter Five

  The atmosphere changed as soon as they stepped through the open doors. Kellie felt a sort of energy in the air that seemed to be centered on several of the people gambling and lounging about. They were werewolves, she realized, inhaling the earthy scent in the air. When had she gotten such a sharp sense of smell? She moved closer to Garen, noting that Paul had followed them.

  “You are safe,” Garen said softly so only she could hear. “My cousins own and run this place.”

  Taking her hand, he drew her into the Bayou Restaurant.

  His hand felt hot on hers. The physical sensations she got from the contact started the vibration low in her stomach. As if he physically explored her body, currents of sensual heat ran up her arms and spread all over her. She was wet.

  Garen breathed in deeply. One of his fingers massaged her palm. That damned light in his eyes grew more pronounced.

  Kellie swallowed. Sooner or later she knew she would be sleeping with him. What was wrong with her? She really didn’t know him; he was a wolf, damn it and she’d been hurt by werewolves, but logic did nothing to dispel her desire for Garen. She s
imply didn’t know how long she could hold out. She had needs, but this compelling attraction and need for him surpassed anything she’d ever experienced. Even worse, she was falling in love with him. “Are you seeing someone?” she managed.

  “Nothing serious. Were you?”

  “No.” Kellie shook her head.

  Garen’s lips brushed hers. They were soft. Laced with mint, his breath mingled with hers.

  Kellie shivered, her whole body tingling. They were in public, and she wanted to grab him and disappear beneath the table. “So this is serious?” she asked, feeling a tremor go through the hand that held hers.

  “Yes.” The warmth of his breath tickled her ear. “This is the beginning of something deep and lasting for both of us. Have you felt this way before?”

  She shook her head. “No. You?”

  His hand tightened almost painfully on hers. “I enjoy being with women, it is our way, but this thing between us is different. You are different.”

  “And if I stayed here with you, what would my life be like?” she asked, trying to picture it.

  “I have a home in the hills nearby, and my family is large and welcoming. As next in line to lead the Roy Clan, I am always protected, but you’ve had a taste of that with Paul. Your life would be whatever you wanted it to be. What do you want Kellie? What do you dream of?”

  “I want to take care of Nana, the way she wanted me to, and I want to verify the legend of Ariel, once and for all,” she answered honestly. “But the last time I slept, I dreamed about you.”

  His mouth caught hers in one, two, three teasing little kisses. She wanted more. The pure masculine power of him washed over her. “We should have gone to the room,” he said an impatient low voice dangerously close to a growl. “Now it is too late.” Kellie blinked as the waiter approached the table with a set of menus. He addressed Garen by name. Waiving away the menus, Garen ordered Cajun Steak extra rare for both of them.

  She didn’t often eat steak, but her stomach wasn’t turning over at the thought, so she only gave him a sharp glance. “I know how to order for myself.”

  He apologized. “It’s a big menu and I knew how hungry you were. I can call our waiter back and cancel your order.”

  Kellie shook her head. “I’m too hungry for that.”

  Garen stared at her, a new element in his gaze. “Yes, you’re changing, becoming one of us. Do you know that?”

  She nodded. It fit with her heightened senses and the quick way she’d healed. When the new moon came, she’d be a werewolf. Tears pricked her lids. She would have liked to have a choice. Deep inside, she stubbornly nurtured the hope that Garen was wrong.

  As if he sensed her thoughts, Garen stared at her intently. “You will be a welcome part of a loving group who cares for their own and you will have a longer life and freedom from disease. Kellie, it is not a bad thing.”

  The waiter returned with their food. Using her knife and fork, Kellie dug in, chewing and swallowing the barely cooked meat with gusto. Afterward, she pushed the plate away, surprised at how much she’d enjoyed it. There was no salad or potato, and she didn’t want them.

  A tall, attractive couple approached the table. Garen stood and the men greeted each other by grinning, teasing, shaking hands, and clapping each other on the back. The smiling woman had toffee-colored skin and big gray eyes. She hugged Garen briefly and kissed his cheek. Garen introduced her as his cousin Laurel. The man, had hazel eyes and softly curling hair that came all the way down to shoulders. Garen introduced him as his cousin Marcus.

  Both were friendly, but Kellie caught their scent with her heightened senses as they settled in added chairs on the other side of the table. They were both werewolves. She wondered if werewolves had surrounded her all along and she’d been simply oblivious to the fact.

  “Garen spends a lot of time out in the field with the Preternatural Police, so we don’t get to see him much,” Laurel confided. “He’s always working.”

  “You’re always working too, Laurel,” Garen returned.

  Laurel nodded. “Yes, but running security here has a bonus. At least people can find me here when they need to. The extra work you do with the Preternatural Police makes you hard to find.”

  Marcus put a beefy hand on the table and leaned forward.

  “Speaking of the Preternatural Po-Po, Dawg, the heat’s on all of us because of this rogue band of werewolves.”

  “Have you got any leads?” Laurel interjected. “Anything we should be looking for?”

  Garen reached into an inside pocket and drew out the sketch Kellie had made. “Our lone survivor saw these gold medallions around the wolves necks,” he said smoothing it out and passing it to them. “I’ve already given the details to the Roy Clan. You guys were next on my list.”

  Marcus and Laurel studied the sketch of the circular disc with a wolf’s head in front of a full moon. “I’ve seen this damned thing somewhere,” Laurel remarked. “I just can’t remember where.”

  “Me too,” Marcus echoed.

  Garen sighed. “That’s been the consensus so far. Hopefully someone will remember soon.” “Can I get a copy of this right now?” Laurel asked, “I can show it to the clan and my staff and get back to you.” “I’d appreciate it,” Garen said. “We’re getting copies to trusted people in each of the known Vegas clans.” While Laurel excused herself to go copy the sketch, Garen ordered drinks for everyone. Kellie sipped wine.

  “You must be new here, ’cause I haven’t seen you around the casino. Garen is taken with you. How did you meet him?” Marcus asked between sips of ginger ale. He’d said that he didn’t drink when he was working.

  She hesitated, aware that Garen had avoided telling the couple that she was the survivor of the attack. “I’m the one who made the sketch,” she confessed.

  “Oh.” His expression changed to one of compassion and regret. “We’re glad that you’ve survived your ordeal. I hope you know that what happened is not the norm.…”

  Kellie nodded. “Garen told me, and soon, what I think is the norm won’t matter much. My body is going through changes, and Garen is certain I’m already starting to change into a werewolf.”

  Marcus eyed her sharply. “But your scent is different and the vaccine.…”

  “Didn’t work and nearly killed me,” she explained.

  She was interrupted when Laurel reentered the restaurant at a fast clip. Her face was flushed with excitement as she reached the table and leaned in to talk in a low tone. “I was talking to Janet, and I remembered. I saw a gold medallion like this on a human who got into a fight in the casino with one of the Tanetti brothers. They came in together and were friendly until the fight broke out. The police happened to be nearby, and they made a report…”

  A human? The thought that humans could be mixed up in the business with the rogue werewolves put a nasty slant on things for Kellie. She noticed that everyone looked upset.

  Garen whipped out his cell and dialed a number. He identified himself, then he ordered a check of the police reports for altercations at the French Quarter Hotel and Casino within the last two years. When he’d switched off the phone, he gazed at everyone at the table. “We all know that the Tanetti brothers worked for Cutter, Fang, and Mad Dawg, the local drug lords. Cutter died the same week those werewolves attacked that suburb, but new alphas are already stepping up to take over. This could get ugly.”

  “It already is,” Laurel told him. “We had a little problem a couple of weeks ago with some wolves, some vamps, and some tainted drugs. Someone tried to set us up to get wiped out by the vamps. We didn’t involve the authorities because it was a family matter, but I’ll share the details with you later.”

  Garen nodded. “I hope to have this mess with the rogue wolves cleaned up before the next pack meeting.” He glanced at his watch and turned to face Kellie. “We need to get going.”

  Taking leave of Laurel and Marcus, Garen and Kellie exited back through the casino to the Ocean Hotel and Casino Complex
. Garen’s car was still parked close to the building. As they climbed into it, Kellie noticed that Paul was still shadowing them and had climbed into a dark gray sedan. “Is Paul extra protection for me? Or is he your bodyguard?” she asked.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners, his lips spreading into a smile that warmed her insides. “Paul is family, but he has been my bodyguard since I was an infant. We’ve offered him other jobs, but he insists on keeping this one. My father is Dwayne Roy and he heads the Roy Clan. We own several properties in Las Vegas, and you’ve already met some of my cousins who own and run the French Quarter Hotel and Casino.”

  She returned the smile. “I played right into your plans by picking the Ocean, huh?”

  “You made it easier for us to protect you,” he agreed, taking off. “You will find that werewolves are very territorial. The strength and leadership of the alphas in the Vegas area’s clans has preserved the peace, but there are always others, looking for an opportunity to upset the balance or grab a piece of our turf.”

  In the closed space of the car, his earthy scent filled her nostrils, making her a little dizzy. She was careful not to touch him. Good Lord. She caught herself. Could the man be that good? She hoped to find out soon. Maybe then she could clear her head and make a decision about going on about her business.

  Kellie turned up the fan on the air conditioning. That seemed to help. She thought ahead to what she would do when they reached Nana’s house. There was no way she could keep Garen from seeing her retrieve the envelope and Nana’s instructions. She didn’t want to keep secrets from him because they shared a connection, and she knew he was trying to help her, but Nana’s secrets were not Kellie’s to share.

  They parked outside the house and cut through the yellow tape to crunch up the driveway on broken glass. There was no one around, but Kellie figured that Paul was somewhere close, granting the illusion of privacy. The doors and windows had been boarded up to discourage vandals. Garen used the tire iron from the car to pry the boards from the door.