The Strip

  He gritted his teeth as the elevator doors opened again and he stepped into the foyer beyond.

  Lily Kane was waiting for him. Cole stopped in his tracks and automatically looked around, searching for Valentine. As he’d expected, he found the guardian werewolf several meters away, speaking softly on his cell phone. Cole eavesdropped for only a moment – long enough to confirm his suspicions that it was Daniel Kane’s sister, Tabitha, to whom James was speaking.

  Then he turned his attention back to Lily, who had been watching him with interest.

  “We need to talk, Cole,” she said.

  “It’s Malcolm, luv. And what horribly bad news are you going to give me now? Is the Bellagio about to go up in flames? Has Gabriel Phelan killed me in one of your visions?” He raised his brows and waited, once more shoving his hands into his pockets.

  Lily pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. “Look, I miss my son, Cole. I want to go home and I want to have sex with my husband. I’m only here right now because I’m trying to help you.” She shifted on her feet and shrugged. “And because I like Charlie and I want her to be happy.”

  Malcolm stared at her. He had to admit that she’d gotten between the joints in his armor with that one. He was quite impressed that she’d been as bone-deep honest with him as she just had. She genuinely seemed to want to help him. Maybe they were making progress.

  “Okay,” he ventured, slowly. “What do we need to talk about?”

  “Walk with me. I can’t stand the smoke here.” Lily turned and started to head toward the exits across the casino. Cole followed. He had nowhere else to go anyway.

  As he moved, he noticed that the members of his pack were spread throughout the casino. Some were at the tables. Others were at the slot machines. All of them were aware of him and met his gaze as he found them. They were ever the loyal wolves, ready to help their leader at a moment’s notice. It did bring him a bit of comfort.

  “Cole, I know that your basic instinct right now is to just take Charlie and make her your mate before waiting for some other calamity to strike – ”

  “But you think it would be best for me to wait. That she’s fragile and needs time to heal,” Cole interrupted her, guessing what she was about to say.

  “Actually,” Lily said flatly, “no.”

  Cole stopped in his tracks and pinned her with a confused expression. “What?”

  “I think you should go with your gut on this one.”

  “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

  “No. Listen.” She moved in a little, took his elbow, and began to steer him once more toward the exit. Clearly, she wanted out of the casino. “If Charlie were a human, I would tell you to leave her the hell alone. I would tell every man to leave her alone. She’s been through too much and all of it was at the hand of one very sadistic man. She would need time to heal, and lots of it.”

  She paused and Cole waited. “But?”

  “But,” Lily continued, “She’s not human. She’s a female-born. And you guys work differently. Werewolves are wired differently. At the most basic level, you are animals and you need to know that the natural world continues, no matter what else happens. It’s a constant in a man-made chaos. A werewolf shows love and support in different ways than a man or a woman, Cole. And I think that deep down, she understands that. Almost more than she understands human ways.” She paused again, as if searching for the right words. “I think it’s the reason she is the way she is. She’s special. She doesn’t even know how special she is.”

  “You’re telling me that I should turn her tonight.”

  “No time like the present,” Lily said, softly. “And she’s not immune to your charms, Cole. She really likes you. She has for a long time. She dreamed about you.”

  Cole blinked. His jaw dropped open. “She saw me? In….” He stumbled to silence, swallowed hard, and started again. “She saw me in her… her –”

  “Yes.” Lily smiled at his sudden, shocked expression. “She did. And I think I can safely say that she enjoyed those dreams.”

  Cole still couldn’t speak. He was too flabbergasted. That Charlie had dreamt of him was like having fate put the stamp of approval on their union. A Dormant dreams of the man she’s meant to be with. And all this time, Cole had been dealing with a deep-down, barely squelched guilt that he had been stealing her from someone else.

  Again, Lily laughed. “Looks like I’m off the hook now.” She moved away from him and walked toward Valentine, who had followed them at a discreet distance and was waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

  Malcolm watched her go. She took Valentine’s hand and glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I wish you the best of luck, Malcolm. You deserve it.”

  And then Valentine led her out of the casino and into the Las Vegas night.

  Chapter Fifteen, The Pair

  It took a moment for Malcolm to realize that, after nearly three years, Lily Kane, formerly, Lily St. Claire, had finally used his first name. She was giving him her blessing; letting him move on.

  Outside, the fountains gave off their sonic booms as they sprayed high into the night, thrilling audiences that had lined up along Las Vegas Boulevard. Some store front was playing “New York, New York,” despite it being the wrong city. It was the spirit of the thing, he guessed.

  Inside, several people’s pulses sped up and Cole could hear the distant static buzz of radio communication. Someone had just won big at a craps table.

  Upstairs, Claire St.James was meeting her grandfather for the first time, and her grandfather just happened to be the Overseer. He was the single most powerful and influential werewolf in existence.

  Cole took it all in and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. A group of women began to make their way toward him and he sent them away with nothing more than flick of his supernatural command. He wasn’t in the mood tonight.

  “Join me for a beer?” Jake was beside him, and as always, the man knew what Cole needed.

  “Right.” Cole led the way out of the Casino and down the street, to an open patio bar with music loud enough that he could hide from his thoughts for a while.

  Once they’d seated themselves and ordered, Jake leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. “So, the Overseer is Charlie’s grandfather.”

  It wasn’t a question, but it was certainly an invitation for elaboration. Cole smiled a slightly lopsided smile and leaned forward, himself. Anyone watching them from out on the street would have taken them for performers in one of Vegas’s many shows. Perhaps a Cirque routine. Off for the night and probably gay.

  “That he is,” Cole replied. “And I would give a year’s royalties to be a fly on the wall in that room right now.”

  “You think he’s going to tell her to go back with him to Council headquarters?”

  Malcolm thought about that. “I bloody well hope not.” Because if he did, then the Council was going to have one really angry alpha werewolf on their hands. “But I doubt it.” After all, Charlie had dreamed of him. If any one werewolf in the world had the authority to mess with a fate like that, it would be the Overseer. But, somehow, Malcolm didn’t think Kavanagh would do that. He would want what was best for his granddaughter, and she wore Cole’s mark. That wasn’t a comfortable position for her to be stalled in. It was best if they moved on and took the next step.

  Charlie was a formidable female-born as it was. She’d broken his nose in a head-butt the likes of which he’d only ever seen in movies. She ran nearly as fast as he did. As a werewolf, there was no telling how strong or how powerful she would be. At the very least, she would be far more capable of defending herself against Phelan or any other Hunter that might cross her path.

  The waitress brought their beers and then paused, turning to Malcolm as if she recognized him. She was about to ask him something when she suddenly stilled, closed her mouth, and then smiled a vague, friendly smile and walked away.

  Jake watched her go. He shook his head. “You’re one
cruel British bastard, you know that?”

  Malcolm shrugged and took a swig of his beer.

  “You may have a date lined up for tonight, but I don’t. Lay off the chicks. You’re probably jumbling things up inside their brains.”

  Malcolm smiled at this and pinned his second-in-command with a glittering gaze. “What happened to Mary Jane? Charlie’s friend?”

  Jake chewed on his cheek and averted his gaze. He was instantly nervous. Embarrassed, even. “She… Sort of… Doesn’t want to see me again.”

  Malcolm’s brow rose. He was all interest now. “Oh?”

  Jake sighed heavily and took a long, deep pull of his own beer. When he’d finished, he set it down a little hard. His tone was edgy when he spoke. “She woke up next to me and freaked out and wanted to know where Charlie was.”

  “Go on,” Malcolm smiled.

  Jake shot him a withering look. “I told her not to worry about her friend and that she could take care of herself.” He looked at Malcolm wide-eyed, his hands splayed up. “What was I supposed to do? You wanted her out of the way, right?” He shook his head, then. “That’s when she went ballistic. She wanted to know who you were and if we were together and, when she couldn’t reach Charlie on the phone, she threatened to call the police.”

  “Bugger,” Malcolm said, smiling behind the beer he once more brought to his lips. “She’s a live wire.” He took a drink and then asked, “She call the cops?”

  Jake’s gaze darkened. “Yes.”

  Malcolm laughed out-right, throwing his head back as his deep laughter rumbled around them, drawing covetous looks from many of the women – and men – in the cantina. When he’d finished, he cocked his head to one side and pushed his empty beer to the edge of the table, where it could be picked up and replaced with a full one.

  “What did you do?”

  “Why do you think it took me so long to get back to you? I kissed her again, much to her surprise, and when I had the control over her I needed, I made her tell the cops she’d made a mistake. She was convincing, too.”

  “And you say I’m a bastard.”

  Jake had no answer to that. He hid his flush behind his beer and finished it off, setting it at the edge of the table alongside Malcolm’s. Then his gaze flicked to the other side of the cantina and the color drained from his face. “Oh shit. Speak of the she-devil.”

  Malcolm turned in his chair to find that Mary Jane and her two male band mates were climbing the stairs to the main area of the cantina. She looked fetching in a tight black t-shirt, tight black jeans, and knee-high boots with what had to be more than four inches of heel. Her straight black hair shimmered enticingly beneath the strung lights in the bar, and her lips were as red as rubies.

  “She’s on the prowl my good man,” Malcolm muttered under his breath, and then shot Jake a warning look.

  Jake sat back in his chair and he and Cole thanked the waitress as she dropped off two fresh beers. Jake grabbed the one nearest him and brought it to his lips, eyeing Mary Jane over the top of it.

  Cole listened carefully and caught the sound of Jake’s pulse quickening. There was a new tension rolling off of the blonde werewolf now. Malcolm studied his second-in-command as he watched the woman he’d slept with talk to several other humans, two of which were men who immediately offered to buy her drinks.

  Her band mates shooed them away. More or less. They were just sort of scary looking. Especially the tall one with the dreads. But Malcolm had the distinct impression, based on the hard, unforgiving angles of his friend’s face and the way his jaw was set with such determination, that if the men hadn’t left, Jake would have made them leave.

  “You gonna make a move on her, Jake, or sit here all day, pining for her?” Cole suddenly asked, his cool British accent slicing through Jake’s obviously heated thoughts. Jake pulled the beer from his lips and shot Malcolm an irritated look.

  “Oh come on,” Cole continued, sitting back and taking his own beer from the table to hold it in his lap. “You want her. So, go get her. She’s probably forgotten all about the cop thing.”

  Just then, Mary Jane caught sight of the two of them at the other end of the outdoor seating area, and her dark brown eyes narrowed. She turned toward them and her blood-red lips curled into a smile.

  “Oh fuck,” Jake muttered.

  “Truly.” Malcolm’s smile broadened as he took another long pull of his beer and watched Mary Jane make her way through the tables toward them. He heard Jake fidget in his chair and saw him, in his peripheral vision, running a hand through his thick blonde locks.

  “Boys?” Mary Jane greeted softly as she sidled up to their table and put her hands on her hips. Her two male companions eyed Malcolm and Jake with outright suspicion and distrust.

  “MJ,” Jake nodded at her, his tone cool, but his amber eyes flashing with promise.

  Malcolm put his beer back down and leaned back, draping his hands over his rock-hard abs. He wasn’t at all surprised when Mary Jane turned her dark gaze on him.

  “What did you do to Charlie, asshole?” she asked softly, making certain that her tone remained conversational, even if her words had bite.

  Malcolm flashed teeth. “Nothing she didn’t want me to, luv. She’s back at the Bellagio right now… resting.” His tone intimated much.

  “No she’s not, you lying fuck. I just got off the phone with her. She’s having a heart to heart with a grandfather that she didn’t know existed. So, wipe the smug smirk off of your pretty face.” Again, her tone was very light, and again, her words were acidic, dripping venom.

  Jake’s brow lifted a notch. A smile pulled at the corners of his sensuous lips.

  Malcolm could now see what Jake liked in Mary Jane. She had fire, and lots of it. She also wasn’t stupid. He sighed and stood. “Very well, then,” he said as he dropped a wad of bills on the table and began to turn away. “I give you two my blessing.”

  Across the table, Jake’s amber eyes bored holes into him. Malcolm couldn’t deny the thrill he got by leaving his second-in-command to such an uncertain fate. The poor devil. He was definitely outmatched.

  Malcolm left the table, brushing past the two men with Mary Jane. Each of them locked gazes with him as he went by, and he could read the dark promises there. Charlie’s friends were loyal, and they didn’t want anyone messing with her.

  He nodded at them, sent out a few tendrils of his power, and hoped that the reassurance he’d attached to them would find its way into their minds.

  When the men blinked and seemed to relax, he knew it had worked.

  As he walked back across the cantina, he could feel Jake’s gaze burning into his back, but he knew it was better this way. The werewolf needed to deal with his own girl issues without any unsolicited help.

  And Malcolm needed to see Charlie.

  * * * *

  Charlie hung up the phone, turned it off, and flung it on the couch. Then she turned an apologetic expression to the man sitting across from her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that when I saw it was her, I knew she needed to hear my voice, and I was right. She’d been worried sick about me.”

  Alexander Kavanagh smiled an understanding smile and shook his head. “Think nothing of it, Charlie. I don’t blame you one bit. I had to call my wife from the elevator. She has to hear from me every hour or she vows that she’ll send the Council’s enforcers out after me.” Alexander shook his head, his blue eyes laughing. “I swear, the power has gone to her head.”

  “You have a wife?” Charlie asked. Her grandmother – her father’s mother – had been dead since before Charlie was born. At least, that was what she’d been told. Then again, she’d been told that her grandfather was dead, too.

  “Yes,” he said softly. “She’s my second wife, Charlie. We’ve been together for almost thirty years. We married seventeen years after your grandmother died.” He paused as she took this in. And then, gently, he added, “You would have liked your grandmother, Charlie. Sh
e was just like you; full of spirit and tough as nails. You’re the spitting image of her, in fact. I’m sorry that you never got to meet.”

  Charlie stared at the floor for a moment. She tried to conjure up the image of a woman who had been alive fifty years ago, but it was hard. She was tired, and her mind kept sliding back to Malcolm and his light green eyes.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were alive?” she suddenly asked, surprising even herself. She hadn’t known the question was there, on the tip of her tongue, until her mind spit it out and her mouth had to obey.

  The silence in the room stretched and Charlie looked up. Her grandfather was watching her carefully, his blue eyes filled with secrets and wisdom and probably things that nobody would believe, even if they knew about them. But his smile was gentle and more than a touch remorseful.

  “I thought about it,” he said, softly. His deep gravelly voice felt like the entire desert and all of its harsh heat and deadly beauty and hidden treasures, wrapped up and shoved into the small space occupied by a single tall, well-built man. “But your father had wanted you raised as a human. It was why I’d never introduced myself to you before. I knew that you would be able to sense my….” He trailed off, as if searching for the right word. He was too humble.

  She helped him out. “Power?” she offered.

  He chuckled and had the decency to blush. “I suppose so,” he said, nodding. “He’d told me that you were a Dormant. It was unheard of until you came along. You’re the first, Charlie. The first female-born to also be able to make the Change.” He sighed and stretched out his legs in front of him. His expensive, tailored suit slid along his well-muscled body like silk over a statue. “Well, your father was outright scared of what the combination might do to you. He didn’t want any alpha anywhere near you.” Again, he chuckled, and it was such a deep, resonating and contagious sound that Charlie almost joined him.

  “I can’t blame him, really. If I’d had a daughter instead of a son, I would have felt the same way.” Here, he paused, and his expression took on a meaningful cast. His blue eyes darkened, just a touch. “So, he wanted to hide you away. And he was successful, for the most part.” He looked down at the floor now, and seemed to be seeing something in another place and time. “At least, until he and your mother were killed.”