CHAPTER SIX
The wolf nudged Vaughn’s mind, straining for more than just a brush of Elena’s fingers.
Windblown hair cascaded around her face in a dark halo that promised the very opposite of sweet and angelic. A streak of blue raced across her cheek, disappearing so quickly he nearly missed it.
The animal in him prowled closer to the surface.
“It’s like a magic all your own when the wolf shows itself.” She took a step closer, her gaze locked on his. “What’s it like? To never feel completely alone?”
It took him a second to realize she wasn’t making a dig or trying to spark a reaction. She was genuinely curious.
“I imagine it’s a lot like growing up with a twin. Sometimes it’s great and sometimes it drives you crazy.”
She parted her lips to say something, but whatever it was slipped away when the elevator doors scrolled open.
He followed her into the lift. She arched a brow.
“I’m walking you to your door.”
“That still doesn’t make this a date.”
He laughed and pressed the button for her floor. Their hands brushed as he stepped back next to her, unsure who reached for the other first.
He glanced down at the slender fingers laced with his own. How long had it been since he’d held someone’s hand beside his mother or sister’s? Two centuries? Three?
It was an intimacy shared with few and yet he’d reached for Elena’s hand more than once without even thinking about it.
Even more surprising was the prickly sorceress allowing it, never mind that he’d bet his entire score tonight on the certainty she liked it just as much as he did.
They reached Elena’s floor, and he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, angling one shoulder to move her out of the way in a hurry should it be necessary.
The door opened to a deserted hallway.
Elena’s lips quirked in amusement. “Mac pays Briana a small fortune for security systems that blend tech and Fae glamour. Between that and the team running the surveillance in this place, an immortal would have to be an idiot to start anything here.”
That knowledge didn’t stop him from being the first one to step off the elevator. He knew full well the kind of operation Mac ran behind the scenes. He wouldn’t have gotten into the vault below tonight without researching everything there was to know about Malachi MacKinnon and the Wolf’s Den. And then some.
“You do realize that I’ve managed to survive this long without a canine escort, right?”
“But it probably hasn’t been nearly as fun.”
Her door loomed ahead, and he found himself slowing his pace. He’d already stayed longer than he’d intended and needed to get back to Dare. The exchange wouldn’t happen for another two days, but that didn’t mean sticking around was a good idea.
As much as he knew that, he still didn’t want to leave.
She swiped the keycard down the slot and opened the door. “Want to check the closets and under my bed too?”
“The pros always hide in the shower.”
She laughed and the sound was a direct hit to his chest. The need to stay, to linger over another playful dig, another smile, another glimpse of blue vines licking her skin, was an ache in his bones.
He needed to go before the unthinkable happened and he forgot why he’d come to Vegas in the first place. “Night, Ivy.”
“Vaughn?” She paused, halfway into her room. “Don’t let this go to your head, but I had fun tonight.”
Fuck. “Don’t do that.”
The tentative smile that caught her lush mouth told him she knew exactly what he was getting at. “Too late.”
He took a step toward her.
“I’m trying really hard to stop.” The teasing admission rang with enough truth he knew she meant it.
He caught her face in his palms, his fingers sliding up cheeks that warmed beneath his touch. Eyes flickering with the sweetest heat met his and held.
And held…
Her hair brushed the back of his hands, and he felt every silky strand paint his skin as he got even closer, nearly losing his mind to the wild scent of her.
He touched his lips to her forehand, somehow skimming the surface and sinking in all at the same time, and then her next breath slipped away as she made the same mistake he had—and forgot to breathe.
There was no Gauntlet, no thugs, no hotel.
There was only the trail of lit gunpowder blazing a path through his bloodstream and heading straight for his heart, as the woman in his arms, once frozen and now melting, leaned in to fit against him in every way.
Sweet Avalon.
Elena gripped his shoulder with one hand. Her other was trapped between them. Like maybe she’d thought twice about letting him kiss her after all but hadn’t quite managed to stop either of them.
Her nails curled into his shirt, the fierce beat beneath her palm echoing in his ears, the rhythm of it telling him one thing.
Get closer.
It shouldn’t have been possible to deepen such an innocent kiss, but the second his lips parted, catching one more taste of her skin, Elena shivered and clung to him.
He fought to rein in the moment, holding it tight to them, and then it was gone, broken as she tipped her head back to search his face.
“You didn’t pounce.”
He let his hands fall back at his sides, his lungs working to make up for the oxygen deprivation he’d happily endure another thousand times if it meant he could hold her like that again.
She took a small step back, shaking her head. “I was ready for you to pounce.” She flexed her hands at her sides, the expression on her face so foreign it took him a minute to recognize it.
She was flustered.
Finally, he’d made a move the sorceress didn’t have a counterattack for.
The wolf nearly howled in victory, only to snarl when Vaughn took a strategic step backward, increasing the distance between them. “Sweet dreams, Elena.”
If he stuck around long enough for her to recover when he was still reeling from a chaste kiss that was anything but, he’d sacrifice the precious ground he’d gained.
And he needed every inch of territory he could claim where the sorceress was concerned.
He walked backward to the elevator, unable to take his eyes off her.
“Vaughn.” Her tone carried enough confusion to give him faith she wouldn’t fry him on the spot tomorrow.
“Goodnight.”
She faced the door to her room, then swiveled back around. “Stay.”
The request nearly dropped him on his ass.
He shook his head and kept moving, so fixed on the fire that flashed in her eyes, he bumped into the closed elevator doors.
Maybe she would nail him with a burst of blue fire tomorrow, but it would be worth it.
He remembered to hit the button and stepped into the elevator the moment the doors opened.
By the gods, he wanted her.
Wanted her so bad he should be dragging her into her room right now, the door barely closing before he skipped chaste altogether and claimed her sinful mouth, both of them bumping into furniture as they tugged at clothes, starved for a longer, deeper taste of each other.
From the moment he met her, he’d known they’d set the fucking sheets on fire. But he’d soon be banished to his stone form for the day, and he wanted more than the handful of stolen moments before sunrise.
He wanted hours with her.
Hours to strip her clothes off, one piece at a time, watching the flash of blue vines that would unfurl across every smooth inch and tempting curve.
Hours to lose himself tracing the pattern with his lips, his tongue, delighting in the sounds she’d make stretching and arching into his touch.
Hours to burn.
She just had to forgive him for leaving first.
***
Even if Elena was willing to forgive him, the wolf clearly wasn’t.
Ever since sunset, Vaughn’s animal half had been pushing him to seek the sorceress out, and even now was clearly conspiring against him.
It was the only explanation for catching Elena’s scent so easily when the Vegas air was ripe with the smell of humanity overindulging in sex, food and alcohol.
Vaughn doubted the wolf would have allowed him to walk past the small boutique even if he’d wanted to. He hadn’t expected to see Elena for another few hours, and the pleasure of stumbling across her path unexpectedly left both man and wolf eager to play.
He caught sight of his reflection in the glass window and his gut twisted.
It wasn’t right.
He shouldn’t be enjoying himself when his sister was at the mercy of some faceless monster who’d taken her. He’d been assured by the immortal who’d brokered last night’s theft that Piper hadn’t been mistreated, but he really had no way of knowing for certain.
He wouldn’t know until he saw with his own eyes that she was okay. And the moment she told him who was responsible for her abduction, he’d hunt them down and tear them apart.
Twenty-four more hours.
One more night to get through and his sister would be safe.
Rethinking his plans for the evening, he turned away from the window. Dare had banned Vaughn from returning until sunrise, insisting that he follow through with making sure Elena hadn’t talked to anyone about last night’s theft.
He already knew Elena hadn’t said a word. She wasn’t the type to sacrifice potential leverage by sharing information that could give someone else the upper hand.
So why was he still standing there?
From somewhere inside the store Elena laughed, and the wolf yanked at him.
It didn’t hurt to be thorough, right? One quick conversation and he could reassure Dare that she wasn’t a significant threat.
Mind made up, he backtracked and slipped inside the upscale shop many tourists were content to window shop. He scanned the muted interior, half-afraid to brush against some of the delicate bits of fabric dangling from the hangers.
It wouldn’t take much to ruin them considering the barely-there material might cover twenty percent of a woman’s body. Maybe.
Curious, he carefully flipped through one of the closest racks and guessed Elena’s size. There was a good chance she was going to pin him to another wall when she saw him anyway, so getting her size wrong couldn’t make things much worse.
He passed two women at the register, their arms loaded with bags. Normally he was a get in, buy five colors of something in the same style and get the hell out kind of shopper, but the thought of watching Elena try on clothes was infinitely more appealing.
He followed the tantalizing scent that made his pulse quicken to the last dressing room in the semi-circle dotted with benches padded in thick white leather that faced a central mirror. The other dressing rooms were empty and the clerk he’d passed chatted with another customer out front.
“Not my style, Toto.”
Barefoot and sporting a short, black cocktail dress, Elena sailed past him to stand in front of the mirror. She brushed her hair to the side. “Zip me up.”
Hanging his selection in her dressing room anyway, he returned a few seconds later and stood behind her.
He checked her eyes in the mirror for a telltale flash of anything suspicious—like revenge.
She cocked her head, considering her appearance. “Relax, pup. You’d already smell your fur sizzling if I wasn’t in a good mood.”
“Lucky for me then.” He caught the miniature zipper and tugged it up.
The snug-fitting material forced him to take his time, and he had to slide a few strands of hair she’d missed out of the way. He twirled the silky threads around his finger.
“I thought only cats liked to play with hair.”
He lifted his head at the smile in her voice, or more precisely the faint edge that warned him she hadn’t forgotten that he’d passed on her offer to spend last night with her.
Somehow he knew it wasn’t an offer she made often, and wasn’t used to being turned down any more than he was used to walking away from someone he hadn’t been able to get out of his head.
What would she do if he kissed her right here, right now? Would she wrap her arms around him? Pull him close? Forget to breathe?
Would anyone notice if they disappeared into one of the stalls and he helped her out of her dress very, very slowly? Would they hear if he sank to his knees and tugged her panties aside to taste her?
Watching her closely, Vaughn caught the full mass of ebony waves and pushed it over the front of her shoulder, exposing the enticing curve of her neck. “Guess you don’t know dogs as well as you thought.”
There wasn’t a part of her he didn’t want to play with, whether it was her hair, the tips of her painted toes, or the softest parts in between.
He finished zipping her up, his fingers lingering only a moment at the nape of her neck and then he stood back and motioned with his finger for her to twirl around.
She arched a brow but indulged him.
He whistled appreciatively. “Can you do that again, but slower this time, and without any clothes on?”
She laughed, the sound soothing the wolf’s wilder edges.
“Nice dress, but it’s not you.” He dropped onto the closest bench.
Faintly amused, she disappeared into the dressing room, the sound of the material sliding off her body making him question the wisdom of entering the store.
“You don’t seem surprised to see me.” He knew her sense of smell was keener than the average human, but it didn’t come close to a gargoyle’s, so it wasn’t like she’d caught his scent when he walked in.
“Saw you a little while ago walking the Strip. Figured you’d come drooling along at any moment.”
“I don’t drool.”
She poked her head out of the room. “I guess you don’t like a good belly rub either then?”
He growled good-naturedly.
A minute later she emerged in a white dress that looked as if she’d been spun around while someone wrapped her in layers of translucent gauze.
She surveyed her reflection with a thoughtful frown. “I don’t go for being blackmailed into dinner two nights in a row.”
“Tempting, but I already have plans tonight.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Auditioning to replace the tigers in a Siegfried and Roy revival?”
The laugh that burst out of him somehow relaxed the tension that had been permanently embedded in his bones weeks ago.
“Too bad. I’d pay premium ticket prices to see that.”
“And what about you?” He watched her fiddle with the hemline of the dress before flouncing back to the dressing room. “You’re a bit overdressed for burgers and fries.”
She threw the white dress over the top of the stall door, and he rose to slip the material on to the hanger she handed him as well. The clerk appeared long enough to collect it from him, then retreated from the dressing area after checking to see if Elena needed any other sizes.
“I have a date tonight.”
Vaughn returned to his seat on the bench, her words, while not entirely unexpected, grated at him. “Fellow dog hater?”
“Ooooh? Did I strike a nerve, Fido?” This time Elena came out in a blood-red dress that fell to her ankles, her leg partially exposed by a slit in the material that ran past mid-thigh.
Ignoring the mirror this time, she approached him. A foot away she twirled again, then faced him once more, a mischievous spark in her eyes.
So the wolf wasn’t the only one who wanted to play.
She sank down so her knee peeked out from the slit as she rested it on the bench next to him. “What about this one?”
“Pretty shade. Very flattering.” He reached a hand out to touch the slit.
“You touch, you buy.”
He tipped his head back. “Worried I can’t afford it?”
“More that you’d shed all over it.” She spun around to walk away.
He snagged her wrist.
This time her eyes remained locked on his. A beat passed. And another.
“Last night,” he began.
If there had been a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, it was burned away by the cool indifference he’d glimpsed often enough to know the ice was rapidly thinning beneath him.
“You didn’t mean to confide your fear of heights, I get it.” She bent her head, her hair brushing his cheek. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He turned his face, just catching a graze of her cheek, and then she was a safe distance away, the scent of her filling his head while he tried to figure out how he’d let her slip through her fingers.
The door to the dressing room was already closed when he rose and followed. To do what exactly? To knock? To tear the door off the hinges to stop her from putting anything else between them?
To finally hear the sound she’d make when her lips parted and he stroked deep with his tongue in a kiss like the one haunting his imagination?
He shoved his hands in his pockets as he faced the door, the seconds ticking off in his head. If Elena was unprepared to find him so close when she opened the door wearing her usual clothes, she gave no indication as she brushed against him passing.
“Nothing appealed to you?”
Her gaze flicked over him, the heat fleeting but unmistakable. “Not tonight.”
“But anything is possible,” he called out, grinning when she headed for the front door.
“Only for the lucky ones,” she called over her shoulder, stepping out into the night.
Lucky indeed, he mused, realizing too late they hadn’t gotten around to discussing if she’d told anyone about last night.
***
It’s just a dress.
Elena stared at the bag she’d returned to the boutique for when she was sure Vaughn had left.
Since she was paying in cash, the clerk hadn’t minded staying open a little longer for her to make the purchase—one she was second-guessing with every step that carried her back to the Wolf’s Den.
She took a breath to clear her head.
It wasn’t like she had to wear it. She’d been spontaneous before and changed her mind at the last minute. Hell, she had half a closet full of spontaneous purchases she’d never worn.
She moved away from the crowds enjoying the Strip’s nightlife even as part of her longed to stroll with the masses, if only to see if Vaughn would hunt her through the streets of Vegas. Except tonight she had other plans.
She glanced down at the bag again.
Sweet Avalon it was just one itty bitty dress. No big deal.
So how come it felt like she’d somehow crossed a line? She excelled at pushing boundaries, thriving on the rush of testing her limits and those around her, yet the bag in her hand felt like new territory.
And it made her…nervous?
No. That couldn’t be right. Curious, bold, determined, empowered, maybe even over-the-top upon occasion, but never nervous. She didn’t do nervous.
Which meant not wearing the dress Vaughn had selected with her in mind was no longer an option. She wasn’t ruled by her emotions like many immortals and wouldn’t let something as trivial as a dress screw with her head.
Decision made, she pushed the whole ridiculous thing out of her mind, content to people watch on her walk back to the Wolf’s Den.
She’d contemplated hailing a cab earlier, but then she wouldn’t be able to draw out the immortal who’d been tailing her for the better part of the day.
And it wasn’t Vaughn.
Two blocks off the Strip, the Wolf’s Den loomed ahead.
The walk gave her time to rethink her decision about the dress at least five more times before she grew annoyed with herself.
Or maybe she was annoyed by the fact that whoever stuck to the shadows still hadn’t made a move. She could feel them stalking her, but they were staying out of sight—
Ahead of her, a bear of a man climbed out of a parked car in the half-deserted lot she’d cut across.
Finally.
She stopped a short distance away from the guy, taking in his thick shoulders spanning close to four feet across and the monstrous noggin that would knock her out cold if he ever got close enough to head-butt her.
And that was a big if.
The man wasn’t a gargoyle. He didn’t move with the cunning grace of a predator. He was too big to be a Korrigan, although cornering someone in the dark definitely fit their MO.
Going up against the notorious slavers would be a welcome change actually. She did so love it when they were foolish enough to believe they could enslave her like a common mortal.
The giant didn’t betray a hint of magic, excluding him as a sorcerer. That left just Fae then. Interesting.
“Elena of House Lamorak.” The giant’s voice was even deeper than she anticipated.
She drew her magic close, the seductive tendrils whispering through her head. “Do we know each other well enough for such formality?”
“Daughter of Roan and Amelina,” the giant continued. “Granddaughter of Queen Titania.”
Elena winced. “I try to keep that last tidbit on the down low actually. Tends to bring out the crazies.”
The giant frowned.
“You’d be the crazy,” she confided in an exaggerated whisper.
Few knew her full heritage outside of the Fae Court and that’s how she preferred it. She’d barely begun to navigate the Fae world as more than an outsider, and while it was tempting to test the waters, the fragile relationship with her mother, never mind her grandmother the Queen, kept Elena from rocking the boat. Much.
“You need to come with me.”
She shook her head. “My dance card is already full tonight I’m afraid.”
“I’m under orders to—” The large man danced to the side to avoid the blue flame that smacked the pavement at his feet.
“Whose orders?” Had Mr. Red and White and his partner in black wrongly decided she wasn’t a serious threat and could be left for Andre the Giant to bring her in?
The man squared his mutant linebacker shoulders. “It would be best if you were not difficult.”
Difficult? He should have been there for her teenage years. “Have a good night—”
Arms as thick as tree stumps wrapped around her from behind, clamping down hard on her ribs.
The man in front of her had disappeared.
A glamour.
Her attacker had never been in front of her to begin with. She’d been so busy waiting for the moment someone would make a move, she had taken the man’s appearance at face value.
Was it any wonder she wasn’t ready to embrace the half of her DNA steeped in deceit and trickery? When she went after someone, she didn’t hide behind illusion and games. Okay, maybe she did a little, but it was better that way for everyone involved.
Elena twisted her hand down, the magic nearly boiling in her palm before she released it. The heat of it singed the back of her legs as the flame slammed into the giant’s foot. His grip loosened, but not enough to break free.
It did however manage to piss him off. He squeezed tighter, crushing her ribs and cutting off her air supply.
Something crinkled under the giant’s foot. The bastard was stepping on her dress.
Her magic rolled and spun within her. The giant jerked toward the sound of tearing metal as she used her magic to wrench the car door off its hinges.
She swung her legs as high as she could, out of the way of the car door that sailed toward them and nailed the giant in the knees.
He yelled, dropping her as he toppled over from the impact. Elena hit the pavement, the side of her cheek scraping the blacktop.
Son of a bitch.
She rolled to her side and then hopped to her feet, reaching out with her senses, searching for any of the giant’s friends. In the distance another couple crossed the lot, heading away from the Wolf’s Den. If they’d noticed the scuffle they were doing a good job pretending they hadn’t.
She dabbed at the blood on her face. On the ground the giant clutched at the leg nearly severed by the door. He raised his head to glare at her.
Not giving him time to pull another glamour out of his ass, she whipped the car door back up, pinning it against the giant with her magic.
“Who hired you?”
“Go alone she said,” Andre the Giant muttered under his breath. “It’ll be easier that way.”
“Who is she?”
The giant stared at her, equal parts defiant and utterly clueless.
Headlights speared across the darkness. A long sleek vehicle entered the lot and rolled toward them.
“Friends of yours?”
The giant didn’t so much as glance at the vehicle. Pumped up on magic, she threw a palm up at the limo. The gift in her blood strained to grind the wheels to a halt.
“Elena?”
She blinked through the glare of the lights, recognizing the voice.
The rear door opened and an impeccably dressed male stepped out, his honey blond hair perfectly groomed, his green eyes smoothly calculating.
She hadn’t met many Fae who didn’t have the same shrewd gleam. “Oren?” The threads of her magic strained hard, and snapped.
He beamed. “I thought it was you. I do hope you’re not planning on wearing that to the party.”
Leave it to Oren to ignore the seriousness of the situation to talk about fashion etiquette.
He nodded at something behind her. “Is your friend leaving already?”
She followed the trail of blood to the bobbing form of the giant bolting across the lot. Something that big and injured should not be able to move that quietly.
She sighed and picked up her crumpled garment bag. “I’m going to need a few extra minutes to get ready.”