“That’s going to be a problem.”
“You will do as you’re told,” Drake growled.
“There was a reason I was playing Roulette and Craps,” Ella tried not to growl back, but failed. “Believe it or not but that WAS my first time in a casino. I am not a consummate cheater and I don’t have infinite abilities.”
Drake glared at her for a moment, the muscle ticking in his jaw. Then he silently turned back to the road. He continued driving, staring out the windshield, brooding as he gripped the wheel with clawed hands. The tension in the car was thick. Ella hated it when Drake threatened her, but the silent treatment was more frightening. She imagined he was inventing a dozen different ways to torment her.
“I’ll figure it out,” Ella mumbled as they pulled up to another large hotel with a giant lion outside.
Instead of heading to the main high rise, Drake wound his way through the estate, to a building that looked like a mansion. Drake whipped the sports car around the circle driveway, coming to a halt beside the valet. He exited before the man reached his door.
“Don’t fucking scratch it, or I’ll gut you,” he snarled. The valet extended his hand to help Ella out of the car, and the rumble in Drake’s throat deepened. “Unless you want to lose that hand, I’d suggest you back up.”
“Yes sir, sorry sir.”
The valet backed away from Ella and rounded the car, his face expressionless. Ella felt bad for the man. She hoped for his sake he didn’t mar the fancy sports car.
“Right this way Mr. Drake,” a man said as he opened the doors on the mansion.
Drake tugged Ella to his side and ushered her into the enormous Tuscan villa. They followed the attendant through a posh sitting room, featuring a glossy black grand piano. He continued out, to an Italian garden with a large oyster shell fountain at its center. They approached a patio table where two other men were already seated. They stood when they saw them approach.
“Drake, I didn’t know you were bringing a guest.”
The tall man with mottled blonde hair motioned to someone hidden on the perimeter of the garden. Instantly a place was set for Ella at the table.
Drake shrugged, obviously uncaring that he’d inconvenienced their host.
“This is Miss Ella Roulant.”
“A pleasure to meet you Miss Roulant. I am Bastian,” the man introduced himself.
“And Coso.” A tan man, with long black hair, held out his hand.
Before Ella could shake it, Drake pushed her toward the chair. The man’s brows rose at the gesture.
Yeah, he’s a rude dick, but you probably know that better than I do.
Ella considered the two men, wondering what kind of shifters they were. Both men were big guys, and appeared to be at the height of their prime. Would Coso, or Bastian, be able to help her? Would they even bother, since she wasn’t like them?
Bastian must be the king of this castle, since the staff defer to him.
Ella tilted her head as the thought crossed her mind. With Bastian’s mottled hair, and the iconic MGM lion, Ella wondered if the man was a big cat in disguise.
And I thought Vegas was run by the mob, not the animal kingdom, Ella thought incredulously.
Coso was the man Drake wanted to lose, along with himself. Ella didn’t know if that meant Drake was allied with the man or the exact opposite.
“What are you drinking, Miss Roulant?” Bastian inquired, as a butler stood ready and waiting.
“Any dry red you have will be fine.”
“And you, Drake, Scotch?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. Coso and I were sharing a Glenfarclas 55,” he gestured to a side table. “Jefferey another glass and a glass of the Sassicaia Cabernet for the lady,” Bastian requested.
“Yes sir,” the butler replied before leaving.
Ella looked around at the glass domed garden, as she surreptitiously listened to the men converse. Shortly after her wine arrived, they broke out the cards and started playing poker with their pocket change, which amounted to a hell of a lot.
“Should I deal you in?” Bastian asked.
“No. I’m no good at the game.”
Ella sipped her cabernet and watched the game.
How am I going to rig this? Ella racked her brain. I am so screwed. I’m going to have to take a chance. Ella concentrated on the cards Bastian held, and formed a picture in her mind. Please work.
10 Into the Desert
Wolf
Wolf arrived at the Palazzo hotel shortly before midnight and wandered toward the desk. He stopped short when he caught scent of a breed he hadn’t smelled in a few years.
“Jackals,” he murmured.
He turned to see one of the security guards eyeing him, so he casually continued to the desk. Jackals weren’t a common breed of Shifter, they stuck to the desert regions. Where most of the breeds had learned to get along, the Jackals were an anathema. The breed tended to have their own agenda and didn’t care how they attained it. Wolf wasn’t surprised to find them holed up in Vegas, with all its vices.