It was their first official full moon as a couple.
“Joined at the hip is not exactly what I had in mind.” Diesel rolled on top of her, bracing his arms above her shoulders.
“Oh, and what did you have in mind?” she asked jokingly.
“Joining on a whole different level.” He began a slow assault on her collarbone, and her toes curled in pleasure. Making love to her wolf had been absolutely mind-blowing every single time, and she knew tonight would be no exception. The anticipation had built all day, with silly banter thrown in for fun, and the force of her feelings bubbled to the forefront as she gazed up into his eyes.
He kissed the tip of her nose, something he now did regularly. “Sofia, I believe you have this under control, but if something happens, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Don’t worry,” she assured him, threading her hands through his thick hair. “Nothing is going to happen. I’m fully prepared.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She smiled up at him. “Yes.”
Lust sparked in his eyes in an instant and he growled, bending down to lick the valley between her already aching breasts.
She wanted this to be a night to remember.
It was time for Diesel to rewrite his moon issues into something positive. Since he’d been a child the full moon had been a struggle, and as a wolf that had been detrimental. She wasn’t going to share the news with him, but his insides had taken quite a beating. If she hadn’t been here to intervene, who knows what could have happened? “This night is going to be spectacular, I can promise you that, Michael,” she murmured into his ear, using his given name—one he shared with his late father. “We’re starting fresh from here. No more negativity when the moon is full, only positivity from this day forward.”
Diesel stared down into her eyes with tenderness. “And whatever happens, we’re in this together.”
“Always.”
ALL IN
A Sin City Collectors Novella
Amanda Carlson
Welcome to Vegas. Home of the Sin City Collectors. The job description is easy: Bring the offending supernatural in to the Boss and don’t ask any questions.
Ginger Elliot is a succubus on the run. She’s in danger of being Collected, but her first priority is to find her brother. Even though she operates the biggest spy network in the supernatural world, it may not be enough to free her from the crimes she’s been accused of committing. It doesn’t help that she hasn’t fed in months, and keeping her deteriorating condition from the sexy shifter who’s accompanying her is getting trickier by the hour.
Luke Jones is on a mission to save the succubus he’s fallen for—not only from her brother—but from herself. The two have been on the incubus’s trail for weeks and finally have him backed into a corner. Luke knows the succubus is in trouble, but he has no idea how to help her. In the end, he has to let go of his painful past or lose her forever.
For my mother. Always my biggest fan.
“We’re officially off the grid.” Luke Jones tossed his cell phone onto the bed. It bounced once on the worn plaid blanket, billowing up a small cloud of dust highlighted by the sun filtering through the cabin’s only window. “I gave my brother Diesel our locale, but that was two days ago. I’m sure Diesel will be able to track us here, but it’ll take him some time, especially after that drive straight up the mountain.”
“Off the grid is how I prefer it.” Ginger Elliot, the most beautiful woman Luke had ever laid eyes on, entered the cabin behind him toting a duffel bag full of high-tech gear. She walked over to the small dresser, the only real piece of furniture in the confined space, and with little preamble she began to unpack. Her long, red hair swayed slightly as she worked.
That’s the way Ginger rolled. No fuss. Luke appreciated it.
In fact, he’d been incredibly impressed with her work ethic thus far. They’d been together now for over three weeks, and he’d found her to be smart, efficient, and could network the hell out of a problem. Over the last month they’d been tracking her incubus brother. The bastard had crept farther and father north, seemingly right under their noses. But within the first week Ginger had called in reinforcements. A car, equipment, and enough cash to last them six months had been delivered to their motel in the middle of nowhere. Ginger ran Dossier, an underground spy organization, and she was used to getting things done. Even so, Luke was a little in awe of how she handled herself.
Luke contributed in the tracking department. Being a wolf came in handy when it came to picking up the scent trail, and although the incubus had managed to evade them, Luke was damn good at his job. Twice, Luke had been absolutely positive they would take him by surprise, but when they arrived, the sex demon was long gone. Luke had never scented anyone else near the incubus, but he was starting to think the guy had help of some kind.
There was no other explanation.
Luke’s eyes lingered on Ginger’s back for a few moments before he appraised their new, cramped living arrangements. “How’d you find this place again?” he asked as he turned in a circle. The remote cabin, barely twelve by fifteen feet, was almost uninhabitable. The room held a full-size bed—which he’d have a problem fitting in by himself, let alone trying to share it with someone he wasn’t intimate with—a small, aged dresser that rose no higher than the top of his hip, and one nightstand with a lamp. The light was clearly for looks, since the cabin wasn’t wired for electricity. Nothing adorned the old walls, which were hand-hewn logs. The only other thing in the room was a frayed rug tossed carelessly on the floorboards between the bed and the dresser.
Clearly, no one had used this cabin in years.
“A friend of a friend,” Ginger answered, without answering, which had become her norm. She turned, dusting off her hands, her gear all unpacked. “This is the closest place to the caves we can possibly get, so I’m not complaining. I agree, it’s a little crude, but Damien is here. This time, we find him.”
From all indications, Damien Stamos Elliot, Ginger’s estranged brother, had entered the cave network below Great Basin National Park in Nevada. Ginger remained confident that he’d stay there, because they had chased him into a corner. Damien was a dangerous incubus who’d been part of an organization called The Sumerians, filled with lawless, greedy incubi who were consumed with stealing power, among other things. After his leader, Mason, had been killed, Damien had escaped the airplane hangar they had ambushed and doggedly headed north. He was out of options, and even though he could’ve reached out to his sister these past few weeks, he hadn’t. Much to Ginger’s chagrin.
But she wasn’t about to give up.
A trait they both shared.
The Sin City Collectors agency wanted Damien brought in for questioning, and Luke was on the job. After all these years, his dream of becoming a Sin City Collector had finally been granted. Once Louie Fiore, one of the Boss’s right hand men, had learned that Luke was already busy chasing down the incubus, and keeping company with the wanted succubus, he’d accepted Luke’s application and added him to the payroll.
That was four days ago.
Luke was going to nail his first assignment. There was no other option. Ginger turned back to fiddle with her gadgets. “You know, most of the stuff you just unpacked isn’t going to work here without electricity,” Luke said, stating the obvious.
Ginger tossed her hair over her shoulder as she regarded him, her green eyes seeming to peer into his soul, and Luke was entranced. He shook his head to break his reverie and barely refrained from cursing under his breath. His feelings toward her were beginning to overwhelm him. The way she captured his attention so completely caught him off guard every time. He wasn’t certain if she was using her persuasion on him, and thinking she was made him crazy.
Ginger moved hastily toward the door, her face changing to a more cautious expression. Then Luke really swore under his breath. Ginger was perceptive, and he knew his face was an open book. He would have to be more careful.
<
br /> “Electricity won’t be an issue,” she assured him as she walked past. “I have battery packs for most of this stuff, which I’ll go get now. Some of it won’t work, but it can’t be helped. It’s too late to get Raoul out here for another run, but I wish I’d thought of having him bring a generator the first time. That would’ve been helpful.”
Luke scowled as she left, the door banging shut behind her. It didn’t latch properly because of its broken hinge and warped bottom board, so it popped back open again. Raoul worked for Dossier and was Ginger’s right hand. Literally. The guy’s job was to be at her beck and call anytime, anywhere, and the way she talked about him personified perfection. It made Luke want to hurl.
But he had to hand it to the guy. He was organized as hell.
When Luke had finally met the esteemed Raoul that first week, he’d found him more than capable and completely loyal to Ginger. Luke scrubbed a hand over his face. He just hated that the guy was a cat shifter—most likely a panther, from what he could scent. He was built like a sleek predator, tall and graceful, with dark skin and a Brazilian accent. In the end, Luke could only find one reason to begrudge him—Ginger’s face lit up when he was around.
Luke hadn’t had the guts to ask Ginger if they were a couple. But judging by their professional interactions, he didn’t think so. At least not anymore.
Just thinking about it got his hackles up.
He stalked to the door to try to fix the broken hinge. Anything to take his mind off the beautiful succubus who was lingering right outside, who may or may not be toying with his mind.
Ginger paced calmly to the car—a nondescript Chevy registered to a fake name not associated with her in any way. Because it wasn’t four-wheel drive, they had a difficult time driving it up the abandoned road leading to the cabin—if you could call it a road. It was more of a guideline. Luke had gotten out numerous times to push or lift them out of some kind of rut or hole. After about six hours, they’d been victorious, but it wasn’t anything she wanted to experience again.
Ginger popped the trunk, gripping her hands on the frame as she bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut. It took everything she had to mask her condition from Luke. Having him so near, and his obvious aversion to her being a succubus, made things even more complicated. Her head spun, and her mouth was bone-dry. She gripped the sides even harder, taking in shallow breaths, trying to calm herself down. “Get a handle on this,” she murmured to herself, blowing air in and out of her lungs in quick succession. It sounded like she was in labor, which normally would’ve made her giggle, but she was beyond laughing now. “You can do this. It’s just mind over matter.”
If only.
Ginger hadn’t fed in almost six months.
And by feeding she wasn’t talking about consuming a cracker or a steak. She was talking about her need to digest raw emotion, which she hadn’t done in too long. Going without was slowly killing her. Sex demons needed to recharge weekly to stay healthy.
Daily was ideal.
She hitched in another breath, still gripping the metal frame like her life depended on it.
The end of her rope was quickly approaching—and without that rope she would no longer be able to stay upright. Her body would start shutting down to conserve energy.
She let go of the car and fisted her hands, leaning her knuckles against the inside of the trunk as she let her nails pierce her tender palms. Pain was her only ally now—the only thing that could give her system a jolt, however small.
Without it, she would’ve collapsed a week ago.
Pain or pleasure. A sex demon’s curse.
Ginger hated what she was, and over the years self-loathing had become her favorite go-to emotion. She closed her eyes and cringed as a small wash of emotion from the pain hit her system. She was forced to drink it in or collapse.
She bowed her head on the edge of the trunk.
She hated every piece of herself—everything that made her who she was, and she knew Damien felt the same way. They were nothing more than leeches, siphoning energy off a host. From his boyhood, Ginger recognized his revulsion, saw it take seed and form, just as hers had. The realization that they couldn’t survive without feeding on something so intimate from someone else—the very essence of someone’s inner feelings—was repulsive. It was the sole reason her brother had sought acceptance elsewhere. That, and an unforgiving father. Ginger regretted not stepping in while she still had the chance, and she couldn’t forgive herself.
But Damien was finally within her reach.
This was her chance to finally explain to him—to convince him—that he was going to be okay. To tell him that she’d discovered ways to live around the self-loathing. That it was possible. His life could be salvaged, and with work and diligence, he could learn to accept himself, like she had.
Over the years, Ginger had only found two supernaturals who’d come close to understanding her—or had tried to understand. Raoul and Sofia. They had been her pillars of strength.
Shame crept across her face when her mind slipped to Raoul, and she fisted her already healed hands together tighter. Raoul had known she was in a bad way three weeks ago when he’d dropped off the car and supplies. He knew her telltale signs all too well. He’d tried his best to take her aside, to find a way to help her, but she’d shaken him off. Raoul had already given her so much of himself, but even if he could, he wouldn’t have been able to help her this time.
She was already too far gone.
A simple caress or hug wasn’t going to cut it. She needed a real meal. And one feeding wasn’t going to sustain her, either. She would need several, and the only way to get what she craved was too intimate to do with Raoul. It was true, she did care for him—but as someone to lean on, not romantically.
A lover’s embrace was the only thing that could save her now.
She shook her head sadly. Raoul had given himself to her so selflessly in the past. She would never be able to repay him. But even if she’d tried to manufacture something, to pretend with him, it would’ve been impossible for her now that she had real feelings for someone else. There was no way to “fake” emotion with another, especially when the one her heart desired was so close by.
“You okay out there?” Luke called from the cabin, startling her.
Ginger jerked her head up, almost cracking it on the open trunk. She slapped a smile on her face before turning toward the shifter. “Yep!” She answered a little too loudly. “Just digging through some of this junk, but coming up short. The battery packs must be in the backseat.” She kept her hands concealed from view as she closed the trunk. The small, half-moon puncture wounds had healed almost instantly—one of the few benefits of being supernatural—but streaked blood lined her palms. She walked around the side of the car, away from the cabin. Luke was busy trying to fix the broken hinge on the cabin, but she knew he was keeping an eye on her. Ginger opened the back passenger door and slid in, shoving a duffel bag out of her way to make room.
She slammed the door behind her even though it was crazy hot outside, and immediately bent over and dug through the fast food bag she kept tucked under the driver’s seat. Ginger pulled out an individually wrapped wet wipe from the BBQ place they’d gone to a while ago and ripped it open, slowly wiping away the dried blood.
Once the red was gone, she wadded up the tissue and tucked it into the side of the bag, along with a few others she’d stuffed there recently.
As much as she hated it, the pain was the only thing she had to keep her going. She sighed as she leaned her head back against the seat. Her eyes slid shut for just a moment—
“Hey,” Luke said, yanking open her door, shocking her awake. “What are you doing in here?” He crouched down to her level, concern on his face.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“I can see you’re exhausted, but this is no place to nap. You’re going to burn up in here. Come on.” He grabbed onto her to help her out of the car, and a jolt of pure pleasure raced through he
r, rocketing through her deprived senses. She snatched her arm back so fast she almost ripped the material right out of his grasp.
Luke couldn’t mask his surprise. He’d obviously felt it, too. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I can…I can…get out by myself. But you’re right. I do need some sleep.” She stood, skirting the side of the car. “If you don’t mind, I’ll sleep now. You can have the bed tonight. We’ll plan on leaving at first light tomorrow morning.”
“Sure,” he responded. “No problem.”
As she edged away from the handsome man in front of her, she was careful not to make physical contact. But that wasn’t at all necessary, since he’d taken three huge steps backward before she’d even emerged from the car.
His face was a mass of confusion, which she hated.
Normally, she could control the transfer of emotion through touch. Her ability to siphon feelings that way was like a valve she could turn off and on. But in her weakened state, it appeared she was vulnerable to doing it against her will.
She was going to have to be extra careful. She’d steered clear of touching Luke since the moment they teamed up, but knowing that it could happen was different from it being for sure. This new information meant it would be impossible for them to share any small spaces.
She walked back to the cabin by herself, and she didn’t dare look over her shoulder at Luke. She couldn’t stand to see his expression. She knew after he’d had a few moments to digest what had just happened between them, it would be a mixture of revulsion and longing.
She felt his attraction to her. And she knew he was repulsed by it. Their mutual attraction had grown the more time they’d spent together, and even though Ginger tried her best to tamp it down, the best word to describe it would be intense. When they were together, the air crackled with anticipation.
Sin City Collectors Boxed Set: Aces Wild, Ante Up, All in Page 23
