CHAPTER TWO
Two Months Earlier
If someone asked him to spell Trouble, Vaughn’s answer would have been the same as anyone else’s—until he spotted her standing on the opposite side of the room.
Trouble. E-L-E-N-A.
She walked between the rows of blinking slot machines that hummed in an irritating chorus of bells and dings, turning toward the Blackjack tables where people gambled or observed the play, pausing briefly to take in her surroundings.
In true Elena fashion she was dressed to garner attention, and every guy—and more than a few women—in the immediate vicinity followed the swing of her hips in the too-short black skirt.
As if she knew she had every eye on her, she flipped her hair back, exposing a shoulder left bare by the pink shirt that wrapped around her upper body in thin, gauzy layers.
And it was all part of her strategy.
Catch their eye, let people form their superficial opinions, usually the wrong ones, and then blindside every one of them like a train jumping the tracks at the last second and barrelling straight at you.
Vaughn was pretty sure he was still scraping himself off the pavement from the last time their paths crossed, and surprisingly they’d both made it out of the Gauntlet alive.
Every few millennia, the gods awakened to wage war against one another, shifting the balance of power and keeping the immortal population in check. The Gauntlet routinely preceded each war—Campaign—by a century or two, giving the awakening gods prime candidates to recruit for their side.
All of the competitors coerced into participating in the most recent Gauntlet—Vaughn included—had believed they were competing in the real event. In truth the whole thing had been nothing more than an elaborate ploy to seek vengeance against Rhiannon.
The goddess had her share of enemies, but most immortals in Avalon remained loyal to her, if only because she’d given birth to Arthur. Countless immortals clung to the so-called prophecy that their fallen king would someday be resurrected.
After a brutal decades-long war with his half-sister Morgana, Arthur had succumbed to a fatal injury inflicted by his own nephew on the battlefields of Camlann. No one had grieved more than Arthur’s mother, and Rhiannon’s punishment had been swift and merciless.
Not even those closest to Arthur had been spared her fury for failing to protect her son.
Vaughn used to believe there wasn’t anything worse than having his ability to turn to stone to heal turned into a prison sentence. However he’d gladly take being trapped in his stone animal form from sunrise to sunset any day over the agony suffered by Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table.
Those poor bastards didn’t even have the freedom to search for Excalibur, assuming Arthur’s lost sword really was the key to undoing Rhiannon’s curse.
But right now Vaughn couldn’t afford to waste time contemplating whether or not finding Excalibur would truly somehow resurrect Arthur centuries after his death. Vaughn needed to keep his head in the game and his eye on the prize.
“Vaughn?”
Almost reluctantly, he dragged his attention from Elena, keeping her in his peripheral vision as he faced his friend. “Hmmm?”
Dare grinned and took a swig of the beer in front of him. “Who is she?”
“Who?”
Dare arched a brow. “The brunette. A.K.A the only female you’ve looked at in months. Maybe years.”
The reminder that Vaughn’s attention had slipped from the task at hand, the most important job of his life, twisted his gut.
Dare winced. “Look, in forty-eight hours we’re going to have your sister back. One last piece of the puzzle and we can put the whole fucking disaster behind us.”
Normally Dare’s optimism was contagious, but this close to arranging Piper’s release after her abduction right before the Gauntlet weeks ago, Vaughn couldn’t quite rally. If he’d kept a better eye on her like he’d promised, she wouldn’t have been taken in the first place.
“You sure you’re not going to miss it?” Dare bumped his shoulder. “It won’t be the same without you.”
What he missed was his sister. He’d learn to live without the adrenaline rush that accompanied working for the rebellion to undermine Morgana at every opportunity and reclaim Camelot.
Although Arthur had begun the rebellion before he died over a thousand years ago, the faction still wasn’t powerful enough to take down Morgana. There were too many immortals that refused to support the rebellion, too caught up in their own greed for more territory and power. And every one of them played with fire.
He’d witnessed firsthand how Morgana slaughtered those who defied her, never mind those still loyal to her dead half-brother. She wasn’t giving up her claim on Camelot without far more bloodshed than anyone needed to witness, and it had taken losing Piper to remind him of that.
He was working with Dare purely as a means to an end on this. What the rebellion did after tonight didn’t matter one way or another to Vaughn, and he had no intention of returning to the fold when he got his sister back.
If anything, he planned on putting as much distance between them and his family as he could. He hadn’t kept that a secret, and Dare had been doing a pretty good job of pretending this wasn’t their last rodeo.
“It won’t be the same without you. Who’s going to back me up the next time I run into a bunch of trolls? Or grab a drink with me to celebrate the next time we crush another one of Morgana’s plots?”
“Maybe you’ll manage to hook up with your ant idol.”
“Angel,” Dare corrected with a don’t-screw-with-me look on his face. “The Shadow’s Angel, which you well know. And that guy is too badass to hang out with me.”
Badass? Maybe. Reckless, dangerous and driven by a wicked death wish, definitely.
But Vaughn didn’t bother expressing the latter, knowing Dare’s hero-worship of the elusive immortal known only to the rebellion’s leader, Rutger, was at an all-time high.
“She is pretty,” Dare mused a moment later, nodding in Elena’s direction.
“Careful.” Vaughn took a drink of his beer, resisting the urge to look at her. He didn’t need to. His awareness of the sorceress ran bone-deep. “She eats pups for breakfast.”
Dare growled good-naturedly at the dig. “So you know her.”
He nodded. “And she doesn’t play well with others.” The fledgling sorceress could have walked into the crowded Vegas casino in plain-jane clothes, eyes dodging everyone in the room like a classic wallflower and there still would have been something about her, an undeniable electric pull that would have captured most people’s attention, human or immortal.
And Vaughn wasn’t any more immune than the rest of them.
The man in him found her intriguing, suspecting there were intricate layers beyond the devil-may-care attitude she wore like armor. The wolf in him loved to play with her. The fact that she was powerful, dangerous and unpredictable only made his animal half more eager to engage her.
But today he didn’t have time to indulge the instincts that surfaced the moment he caught her scent—a teasing blend of vanilla in a rain-drenched field of blueberries.
He slid off his stool. “Wolf chow,” he reminded Dare, who continued to watch Elena.
Dare snorted and adjusted the ball cap he wore to cover his white-gold hair. It tended to draw too much attention, and they already risked being remembered today.
At least Vaughn did.
Dare was the Calvary in case Vaughn ran into trouble.
“She looks fairly harmless.”
“And that’s exactly what she wants you to think.” He’d seen Elena go toe-to-toe with Kellagh the Black, the only immortal others feared as much as Morgana.
Once fiercely loyal to their king, the dragon gargoyle had betrayed Arthur at the battle of Camlann and became the terrifying bedtime tale all of Avalon told their children to make sure they behaved.
Kel made even Vaughn’s goosebumps get goosebumps, and Elena hadn’t even flinched when she’d faced him after they’d all been abducted to compete in the Gauntlet.
Vaughn waited until Elena walked in the other direction before choosing a Blackjack table tucked in an alcove.
The others at the table consisted of a Richie Rich type in an expensive suit with a scantily dressed blonde hanging off his arm, an older woman who made the wolf cringe at the strong perfume she bathed in to cover the smell of her two-packs-a-day smoking habit, and a beefy, bald guy who either made a living fighting professionally or he chugged steroids for breakfast just for kicks.
Vaughn slipped on the glasses Dare had given him and joined the game.
In no time he’d amassed a sizable stack of chips in front of him. The suit pretended not to notice when the blonde flirted with Vaughn after every successful play, while the beefy guy glared openly each time the cards didn’t go in his favor.
Vaughn’s highly developed senses thanked the older woman when she gave up and left the table a few minutes later, only to be overwhelmed almost immediately by vanilla and blueberry fields.
He turned his head as Elena sank into the chair on his right.
She joined the game and waited to be dealt in before finally glancing at him. “Hello, Barkley.”
***
Goodbye boredom.
Elena glanced at the card the dealer laid on the table and checked the initial impulse to use her magic to blow Vaughn out of the seat next to her.
There was a little problem of witnesses, and the Wolf’s Den was the last place she wanted to draw too much attention to herself. A few of Rhiannon’s huntresses had turned the Vegas casino into their new favorite playground, and she wasn’t in the mood to provoke any of them today.
They took their job of ensuring the secrecy of Avalon’s existence a little too seriously, and could be downright bitchy if they suspected one of Avalon’s immortals might blow the whistle.
As fun as it was to ruffle the sticks shoved up their Amazonian asses once in awhile, Elena preferred to stay off their radar most of the time, especially lately.
It helped that she didn’t break the cardinal rule of exposing immortals to the human race, though part of her secretly wished some moron would do it already.
It would make for one hell of a show to sit back and watch with an epic-sized bowl of popcorn.
Kind of like sitting down next to the one immortal she would have gladly fed to the enormous tiger-shifter they’d faced during the last round of the Gauntlet.
There wasn’t a damn thing to like about the treacherous wolf next to her, except maybe his eyes. Gods, they were stunning, the blue more hypnotizing than any enchanted jewel. But they didn’t make up for the fact that he’d turned his back on his oldest childhood friend, leaving her and everyone else to face a nightmare.
Briana may have forgiven him for the betrayal, but Elena wasn’t feeling quite so generous. While she knew he’d been heavily motivated to win the competition at all costs to save his missing sister, his actions had stung more than Elena had expected.
Reminding herself that she’d flay the skin off Morgana herself if the sorceress ever touched her twin only took the edge off that sting.
Elena tapped the table for another card, considered the other players at the table before choosing to hold at nineteen.
She’d walked into the casino looking to kill a few hours, maybe take a few poor fools’ money, and had found Vaughn instead. Apparently fate decided she deserved to have an interesting evening after all. Picking a fight with a huntress might be off the table, but goading a gargoyle…
Good times.
Dressed in dark pants and a light blue button-up shirt rolled to his elbows, one that made his eyes even more vivid, Vaughn gave her a quick once-over. “Sweaters must be all the rage in hell these days if you’re sitting down next to me. Either that or you must have really missed me.”
“The way one misses the smell of a dumpster-diving wet dog.”
Did he really have to clean up so well? It was more enjoyable insulting his canine heritage when he was naked and covered in dirt and blood, like the first time they’d met.
She followed the play around the table, particularly Vaughn’s. He hadn’t lost many hands since he’d sat down, and she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. If the dealer hadn’t already signaled the pit boss to keep a closer eye on Vaughn, he would shortly.
“I see Lucan hasn’t caught up with you yet.” Briana’s mate hadn’t been particularly forgiving about Vaughn’s one-man survival routine during the Gauntlet.
“Heard he has bigger problems these days.”
Elena had heard that too. Morgana had made new allies during the Gauntlet and used the relationship to take Rhiannon down, at least for a while. With Rhiannon out of commission for the time being, there was no one left holding the leash where the wraiths were concerned.
Once Knights of the Round Table, Arthur’s most loyal warriors had been enslaved by Rhiannon soon after the god-king’s death. Forced to drink blood to survive and hired out as mercenaries, wraiths had no choice but to complete their assignments or face a crushing madness that would inevitably force them to fulfill their contracts anyway.
Rhiannon’s iron-clad hold over the wraiths had lasted more than a thousand years, and now that their cage door had been thrown wide open, the wraiths, some permanently mad, were wreaking havoc throughout Avalon.
Huntresses were working overtime to keep them on Avalon’s side of the veil, and Lucan was apparently trying to help rein-in his once brothers-in-arms before the huntresses started putting them down.
Actually, that would make for one hell of a fight, too. Rhiannon’s immortal police versus her monster squad.
“What’s the punchline?” Vaughn cocked his head. “Something is clearly amusing you.”
“Just imagining that it was your body parts raining down that day in the courtyard.” Only one immortal had been stupid enough to believe anyone actually had a choice when it came to competing in the Gauntlet, and walked away.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t been the irritating wolf next to her that the gods had made an example of.
“Ouch.” Vaughn faked a blow to the chest, earning a disapproving look from the dealer. It probably didn’t help that the gargoyle beat the house in the next two rounds.
She watched the two men standing a dozen feet beyond the dealer. The taller of the two reminded her of a professional athlete turned sports commentator with his broad shoulders and engaging expression.
Mac’s right-hand man.
Like most casino owners, Mac had a low tolerance for cheaters or anyone trying to game the system. Although she could easily use her magic to her advantage, it took all the fun out of gambling. That personal preference also kept her on Mac’s good side, unless she was trying to provoke him.
Seeing that Mac was her new brother-in-law’s best friend, she took particular pleasure in trying to fire him up. And nothing fired Mac up faster than aiming Nessa his way and setting her loose.
The only thing that would have made competing in the Gauntlet more fun would have been if Nessa and Mac had participated. The huntress and wolf gargoyle would have made for even more drama than watching Briana face-off with Lucan’s monster half.
Elena nearly shivered at the memory of talking to Lucan when the warrior hadn’t been in control. Only a cold, calculated killer created by Rhiannon’s curse had stared back at her. Lucan’s dark half may have had a soft spot for Briana but everyone else had been fair game, and for once Elena had gone out of her way to avoid another immortal.
No doubt the huntresses had their hands full trying to keep the rest of the former knights contained. She couldn’t imagine what Lucan’s Mr. Hyde personality would have done without his bond to Briana holding him in check.
The other two players at the table quickly lost interest in the game and moved on, leaving her and Vaughn alone with the dealer. Unfazed by his winning streak, she shifted forward in her seat.
Mac’s two guys continued their hushed exchange, and she glanced at Vaughn to see if he noticed. He seemed too absorbed in the game… Or was he?
She watched the next play and rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
He arched a brow.
The dealer paused, probably signaled by one of Mac’s guys to hold up.
She rested her arms on the table. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d cheat after the stunt you pulled when Lucan went all Dark Side during the Gauntlet.”
Vaughn leaned back in his chair, a little too relaxed. “She’s joking.”
She glanced at the dealer, saw the discomfort flair in his eyes. “Pit boss on his way over yet?”
Vaughn flicked a chip across the table at her. “Maybe you should go buy yourself a drink, Ivy.”
Irritation pricked at the reminder he’d seen the vine-like tracings that lit her skin up like a Christmas tree when she’d briefly lost control of her magic during the games.
“The whole Clark Kent thing you got going on” —she motioned to his glasses—“not exactly inconspicuous.”
He shrugged, and a lightbulb went off in her head. The wolf wanted to get caught.
Why? What was he up to?
Mr. Sports Commentator approached the table, his gaze precision-locked on Vaughn. “The owner would like a word.”
Elena took a sip of the martini she’d ignored since sitting down. “Bye, Odie. Say hi to Mac for me.” She grinned over the top of her glass.
“You, too.”
Elena stared up at Mr. ESPN. “Pardon me?”
“Mr. McKinnon would appreciate your cooperation.”
Vaughn whistled, not even trying to hide his grin.
“We’re not together. Not even remotely.”
“I think they’re onto us, sweetheart,” Vaughn threw in. “No need for games.”
Dog. Chow.
She pushed to her feet. Resisting might mean Emma would hear about the unexpected turn of events, or worse, their parents. Since she was already avoiding her mother’s calls, Elena wasn’t inclined to give Leah a reason to play the mom card now that she was back in the picture after a two hundred year absence.
And now was not the time to think about her screwed up childhood or the fact she’d spent most of her immortality oblivious to the fact she was half Fae. As if her father’s preoccupation with amassing more magic wasn’t enough to handle without discovering her maternal grandmother was Queen Titania.
With a sigh she fell into step with Vaughn. “So what’s the deal…boredom? Petty revenge? Did your wingman dare you to mess with Mac’s casino?”
Vaughn arched a brow, moving across the casino floor like he knew the exact route they’d take for that private chat with Mac.
“And why drag me into this?” she pressed.
He shrugged. “I offered you an out. You didn’t take it.”
“You saw me the moment I walked into the casino.” They hadn’t been anywhere near each other and she’d felt his eyes lock onto her like a heat-seeking missile.
After the way things had played out in the final rounds of the Gauntlet, she’d expected to be annoyed by his presence. The wave of awareness that slid under her skin, a dozen times more potent than their first meeting, took her by surprise.
Especially when she didn’t even like him.
“You were hoping I’d join the game,” she tacked on.
He glanced behind him.
She craned her neck to follow his gaze. “What?”
“Just wondering where your entourage is. Someone must be catering to your ego 24-7 if you’re that full of yourself.”
She snorted. “You would have moved to another table if you didn’t want me involved.”
“Collateral damage, Ivy.”
“And the sweetheart comment?”
“That might have been boredom.” He walked through the security door that opened ahead of them. “Plus I love seeing you riled.”
“You think this is me riled?”
“I think this is you pretending you’re not riled.”
Elena rolled her eyes. “Now who’s full of themselves?”
One of the men told them to be quiet, and they fell silent as they were escorted through a labyrinth of corridors that made up the inner sanctum of the Wolf’s Den.
She knew Emma had spent a little time down here not long ago, but nothing her twin had shared would give her an edge with finding her way out if someone gave her a reason to bolt.
Normally she preferred to stay and fight instead of running away when things got interesting, but Mac ran one of the best bounty-hunting teams, and after being on their hit list more than once in the past, she’d learned firsthand how resourceful the best could be.
Right now Mac just wanted to talk. Nothing to worry about, assuming Vaughn didn’t attempt to drag her all the way down with him. If he did, he wouldn’t like it when she changed the rules of the game.
She watched him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t appear concerned about the meeting. If he’d cheated with the intention of getting caught, what was in it for him?
Not that you care, she reminded herself.
“Inside.” The sports commentator opened the door and nodded for them to step into the room.
Elena crossed to the dented metal table in the middle of the otherwise empty room. Vaughn filed in after her, removing his glasses and tossing them on the table when they were alone.
She dropped into the closest chair and held her hands up. “What’s the plan now, Superman?”
***
CAT scan for one, please.
Vaughn closed his eyes briefly. Clearly he needed his head examined for complicating his night by involving Elena of all people. “At least Superman is a step up from Odie. I was never a Garfield fan.”
“A dog who doesn’t like cats. Nothing clichéd about that,” she drawled.
He walked past her, working with the limited time he did have and hoping Elena’s presence didn’t slow him down too much. There were a dozen reasons this job had ticking time-bomb written all over it, and he’d just added one more to the list.
“First rule of cheating at cards,” she continued. “Don’t get caught.”
“Noted.” Three feet from the farthest wall he raised a hand, running it in a slow arc a few inches from his face. The ring he wore on his right index finger warmed, heating his skin.
Aside from risking Mac’s wrath if he was caught in the act, he knew messing with Fae magic could land him in the kind of hot water that boiled an immortal alive.
No one would care that he’d been given the ring temporarily to channel magic that would break the glamor that hid the passageway he was searching for. The Fae, the oldest of all Avalon’s immortals, guarded their magical secrets with an air of dignified superiority in public. Behind closed doors, however, they exhibited the same brutal menace as a junkyard dog fighting for every scrap.
They wouldn’t be happy about him knowing how to get around any of the illusions they used to safeguard some of those secrets. Especially the dangerous kind.
And anyone willing to abduct his sister and trade her for a Fae secret would only be interested in the dangerous kind.
“Are you going to tell the rest of the class what you’re up to or do I just get to enjoy the pantomime?”
A buzz of current swept across his palm and he stopped, holding it over the spot. The Fae words he’d memorized felt foreign as he spoke them.
A gold spark erupted from the spot opposite his palm and arced in a hundred directions before falling to form a translucent curtain that glowed reddish-gold.
Behind him, Elena clapped. “Somebody’s been teaching the old dog new tricks.”
He glanced over his shoulder and winked.
She rose, studying the barrier. “How did you know it was there?”
She didn’t actually expect him to answer that did she?
As if reading his mind, she nodded toward the door. “What about Mac?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s otherwise occupied at the moment.” Assuming Dare had everything covered. Vaughn couldn’t waste time worrying about it, trusting the other gargoyle to look after his end of things.
“Your friend,” Elena guessed. “Been planning this awhile? Forget I said that, actually. It makes no difference to me.” She turned around to return to her seat.
“You’re not coming?”
She stopped, studied him carefully.
“You don’t really want to sit and wait around for me, do you?” He sure as hell didn’t want her getting bored waiting for him and knocking on the door to alert Mac’s guys.
The second she’d figured out he’d been cheating with the intention of getting caught, leaving her behind was out of the question. He needed her where he could see her. She was slightly less of a wild card that way. Slightly.
She offered up what he assumed was her most bored expression.
“The Elena I know doesn’t sit the inning out when she could be playing the game.”
“Except you don’t really know me.”
He whistled. “So it’s true then. You have taken the straight and narrow.” He shrugged. “Too bad.” He faced the barrier, bracing to cross it. Now or never.
“Straight and narrow,” she echoed. “Who in the hell said that?”
“Does it matter?” Hoping he’d offered enough motivation, he stepped through the barrier, the warmth of it washing over his skin.
Half-expecting to turn and see Elena watching him from the other side, he came to a dead stop, plunged into complete blackness. With zero visibility, he reached out with his other senses, heard the distant whir of a fan, smelled old paint, a little mildew, and a metallic scent.
The combination agitated the wolf for some reason, his animal half prowling restlessly under his skin.
Elena hissed out a breath. “Not looking forward to crossing the barrier again. Stung like a bitch.”
Stung? He hadn’t felt a thing. He heard her rubbing her arms somewhere behind him.
“Vaughn?”
“Here.” He reached his hand back, but she only brushed it away. He grinned.
“Is stumbling around in the dark what you do for fun these days?”
“Stumbling isn’t usually the first thing I want to do in the dark.”
She stopped. “You know, the barrier didn’t sting that much.”
He caught her elbow before she turned around. “Aren’t you a little bit curious? I know you’re not worried I’d hurt you or you wouldn’t have come this far.”
“Worried? More like amused at the thought of you trying to hurt me.” She shrugged him off, but not before he heard her breath catch.
Interesting.
A blink of light penetrated the darkness ahead, and he moved forward, conscious of Elena right behind him. Although muted, the source of light was strong enough he could make out the outline of Elena’s profile as she moved to the opposite side of the tunnel.
As if reading his mind, she said, “Everyone knows the person at the back of the line is the first one to be attacked.”
He wouldn’t have guessed she was the type to watch horror movies. “Wouldn’t want to put you at a disadvantage.”
The tunnel seemed to shrink around them as they walked, the rock ceiling only a foot above his head now. The walls and floor remained some kind of metal, creaking and groaning under their weight in places. Some kind of ventilation system? One that somehow merged with the surrounding rock?
He glanced over and caught something that might have been a smile flicker across Elena’s lips. Or maybe it was just the play of shadows across her face.
The shaft narrowed until they brushed shoulders as they walked, the friction filling the already small space with her scent. Maybe he should have taken his chances leaving her at the Blackjack table. His mind remained fixed on the task at hand, but the wolf focused entirely on Elena, straying toward her.
The muted light ahead flared, penetrating the shaft as if someone had flipped the light switch while they’d been wearing night vision goggles.
Vaughn threw an arm up to shield his eyes as Elena cursed under her breath. The echo of her heels on the metal changed, and he barely saw the outline on the floor before her foot met empty air and she pitched forward into the hole at her feet.