Games Demons Play (Mystic Isle, Book 3) (11 page)

He stood. “Do you like the shirt?”

She glanced down, thrown by his change in
direction. “Yes.”

“Good.” He stopped an arm’s length away.
“When you hit the poker tables tonight, I’m pretty sure every man
at the table will be…” He glanced down at her chest and her nipples
hardened. “Distracted.”

“You think?” She nibbled her lower lip.

“Honey, trust me. You look good enough to
eat.”

Part of her was annoyed that he didn’t think
she had the skill to win without distraction. But the other part of
her, the part that felt guilty because her impulsiveness had caused
her to wreck Gorgeous, said that using any means necessary was the
smart move.

“Come on.” He held out a hand to her. “We
need to get you signed up for a tournament.”

Lacing her fingers with his, for a moment she
felt like anything was possible. Winning the money. Winning the
tournament. Winning a man like him.

She could no longer deny her envy over Coco
and Grayson’s closeness. And now Ceara had found her mate as well.
Avery did not seem interested in finding one man to settle with,
but Izzy was starting to think that perhaps the right man was
better than a bunch of different men.

With one man, she could share secrets. And
hopes. And fears. With the right man, she could depend on him and
share with him and travel and watch movies, and one day in the
distant future, he could slather her with sun-lotion.

She patted her back pocket for her cell and
lucky deck of cards but they weren’t there. Stiff, new material met
her fingertips. Shade was the most unexpected man. Taking care of
her, pampering her, buying her new clothing.

“I will be right back,” she said, leaving him
in front of the elevator. She retrieved her phone and cards, then
traced her path back to him. He held out his arm and she snuggled
against his side as they stepped into the car.

Rather than ravish her, he kept her plastered
to his side. She had never met anyone so strong with such carefully
controlled passion. At first glance, he was incredibly handsome,
but he was more than a pretty face. He was thoughtful in a way no
man in her life had ever been. Where did he get that from?

Some days she regretted not being able to
contact her family but she knew that Valencia and Coco spoke the
truth. It would be easier for everyone involved if she just
disappeared. Appearing on their doorstep after two and a half years
would bring too many questions. And it would be nearly impossible
to explain why she could not go outside during the daytime, not
without giving away her secret.

She was so thankful that there were no
secrets between her and Shade. He was a demon, she was a vamp. She
had come clean about Valencia’s car from the beginning, and he had
taken it in stride.

The elevator started its descent and he
turned to stand in front of her.

“Remember when you asked me if I played
cards.”

She nodded. He had been a little evasive, but
then they were just getting to know each other. She had not told
him what had happened to her. How she had become a vampiress. She
did not consider it a secret. All the girls knew. Even Charles
Latham knew the truth. She would tell Shade when the time was
right.

“I was pretty good at it.”

He looked deep into her eyes and she got the
feeling he was trying to tell her something.

“So you are here for the tournament too?”

He nodded and his silky black hair fell
across his forehead. She reached up to brush it back and he caught
her hand in his. “Latham wanted to draw a crowd for the charity the
tournament sponsors.”

She raised an eyebrow at that.

“Orphans,” he said simply.

“Just how good are you?”

“The best.”

She heard the words, saw his lips move, but
the only thought in her head was how sexy he was. So confident, but
not in a cocky way as so many demons were.

“The best?” That was extra sexy. She had
always been attracted to the best of the best. The smartest. The
fastest. The strongest. There was something to be said for being at
the top of one’s game. “So you’re the one that they were talking
about.” And that’s why he’d looked distraught when she’d told him
she was coming to Mystic Isle.

“Who?”

“The other players at the blackjack table
yesterday.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened.
Neither of them moved for a moment.

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?”

He took her hand and led her out of the
elevator and down the hall. Just outside the casino door, an easel
held a poster with his picture on it.

“Dethrone the King?” She read the bold text
aloud.

His arms were crossed over his chest and
there was a delicious smirk on his lips, daring anyone to try to
take his crown.
Oh my
. A fresh wave of lust surged through
her. She’d been on the receiving end of that smirk before.

In real life, it had the power to curl her
toes.

“I never lose, Izzy.”

She looked from the two dimensional poster
that did not do him justice up to the handsome man who still held
her hand. “Never?”

“Never.”

She shrugged. “Good. That is even sexier, I
think.”

Shade frowned and cocked his head. “You
understand that if I play, you won’t win?”

“I did not come here to win. I came here to
win enough money to fix Gorgeous. And now to buy a new
Gorgeous.”

His jaw dropped just a little and he stared
at her with obvious bewilderment.

“What place do you think I need to come in?
Second? Third?”

“You know it’s unlikely you’ll be able to
find a car exactly like Gorgeous before your friend finds out she’s
missing, right?”

Izzy’s good mood burst like a soap bubble.
She blew out a sigh and looked around for a place to sit. An
elegant wooden bench sat just on the other side of the casino
entrance. She made her way over and sat down, dropping her head in
her hands.

Shade rubbed her back and she leaned against
him.

“You are right. Gorgeous is a rare car. She
cannot be replaced easily. Every piece of a Bugatti is custom. The
tires: specially made. They even have their own pe — oil. And it is
not like the factory mass-produces the car.” She stood up, paced
across the hall and back.

“Right.”

She sighed. “There’s a yearlong wait list
from what I have heard,” she said, staring down at the polished
tile.

“There is.”

“And each year, the car is different.
Improved. Gorgeous was four years old. How will I find her
twin?”

“I have a guy looking for her twin.”

She turned and looked up at him.
“Really?”

He nodded.

“You are, what is the phrase? One in a
billion?”

He smiled and nodded.

“You are one in a billion, Shade
Sotenburg.”

“Joshua.”

She frowned.

“My given name is Joshua.”

She stretched up and kissed the corner of his
mouth. “I think Shade suits you.”

He kissed her full-on, cupping her cheek in a
warm palm.

When he pulled back, she felt thoroughly
kissed. Happy. Content in a way she had not been in many years.

“How long until I must sign up for the
tournament?”

He glanced down at the expensive watch on his
right wrist. “Three hours.”

She nodded. “Come. I need a cocktail… and to
tell you something.”

She laced her fingers with his. They started
down the long, wide corridor, passing shops and restaurants.

She ordered a house cocktail from the
handsome man behind the Tiki bar, then led the way to a corner love
seat behind a massive potted palm tree.

“You shared with me,” she said when they were
settled. “Now I will share with you.” She wanted to see his
reaction to her words so she turned, tucking her knees. “I told you
I am two. Valencia turned me. I was in Paris. It was late. I
thought I was safe.” She tried to forget the wolf’s face. Tried and
failed to forget her fear. Over time she had become numb to the
story, telling it quickly and without fanfare.

But staring at Shade, watching his eyes
search hers made it hard to keep the past away. His concern touched
her.

“What happened?”

“A werewolf attacked me.” She kept her voice
low, barely above a whisper.

His frown was immediate, but there was more
to his expression. Despite his species and size, Shade was gentle
in the ways that counted. But that gentleness did not stop him from
cursing and then glancing around the room like he would punch the
first werewolf he saw.

The waiter brought her drink and she murmured
her thanks.

Shade’s jaw was tight and she could feel the
tension coiling in him. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his
arm.

His gaze swung to hers. “Did he rape
you?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He swore again. There was a long pause while
he stared at her. What was he looking for?

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Izzy looked away, seeking courage to face the
memories.

“He —” No. She couldn’t go into detail. Not
now. “He left me for dead. Valencia said I should have died. I lost
so much blood. But she was able to turn me,” she said brightly.
“And here I am.”

“How can you stand to be around them?”

She could not deny that she watched for them
everywhere she went. Constantly sniffing the air, she was on
permanent alert. Even here on Mystic Isle where the rules forbade
any type of violence.

Yet with Shade at her side, she felt calmer.
More relaxed than she had during her previous visits.

“I should have been gentler with you,
mausi
. Forgive me.”

Her jaw dropped in surprise but she quickly
closed her mouth. “You do not need to be gentle with me. I am
moving on. I am tough.”

He looked her over, from the roots of her
hair to her toenails. “You are that.”

When he said nothing more she took a long
drink from her goblet.

“So this Valencia who found and turned
you…”

“Yes.”

“Is the same Valencia who owns Gorgeous.”

Izzy was not perfect in her English.
Contractions still tortured her most of the time, but she did know
her tenses. “Owned.”

“Owns. She’s just a little banged up.” He
covered her left knee with his hand and she smiled.

He was right, of course. But the verb tense
did not change the fact that Valencia owned a pile of rubble. That
thought wiped away her smile and replaced it with a wobbly
frown.

“You finish your drink while I go get your
chips.”

“Thank you,” she said and watched him stride
across the room, confident, sexy. Maybe there was enough time to
sneak back to his room for a quickie.

She smiled at the thought.

After a few more swallows she sat the goblet
on the round cocktail table and made her way to the main
hallway.

“Izzy!”

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Coco
and Grayson. Coco grabbed Grayson’s hand and pulled the big wolf
down the hall. Though Coco was not as petite as Izzy, she still
reminded Izzy of a small pony pulling a large, stubborn cart.
Grayson shuffled along behind the beautiful black woman in the
sparkly T-shirt. The visual made Izzy smile.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as Coco
pulled her in for a hug. A long, tight hug.

“We’re here for moral support,
chéri
.
Where’s your lipstick?”

“At home. You did not have to come,” Izzy
insisted, but she grinned up at her friend.

Coco was already fishing a tube of lipstick
and a mirror from her purse. “Not your usual color, but it’ll have
to do.”

Izzy stared down at the offering. She had not
thought about her makeup today. Strange. But if she put on the
lipstick and Shade kissed her, or she kissed him, she would leave
her mark. She did not want to do that to him.

“I am okay without it. Thank you, Coco.”

She was about to greet Grayson when she felt
a warm hand close over her shoulder. Her body took note of dozens
of tiny details in a fraction of a second and immediately
recognized her lover.

“Hey, sweetheart —”

His words were cut short as Grayson launched
himself at Shade’s chest. “Hands off the lady —”

Izzy spun, saw Shade shove Grayson back, and
felt the tension in the air thicken to quicksand consistency as the
two held each other by the throat.

“Grayson!” Izzy rushed between them. For once
her tiny stature gave her an advantage. She placed a hand in the
center of their chests and pushed. “He is my lover,” she said under
her breath, staring up at the gray-eyed werewolf.

“Friend of yours?” Shade asked dryly, backing
away and straightening his shirt.

It took Grayson a second longer to compose
himself. She watched him give Shade a thorough once-over before his
gaze dropped to hers. “Sorry, Iz.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “It is all
right.”

Months ago, when they’d first come to Mystic
Isle, Grayson’s friend had gotten handsy and would not take no for
an answer. Before she and Coco had had a chance to protect
themselves, Grayson had taken his friend to the mat.

Protective to the core, that’s what Coco said
about werewolves, Grayson in particular.

Izzy was starting to believe it. Which made
her wonder why that wolf had attacked her in Paris? The wolves and
vamps were no longer at war. Attacking a defenseless human went
against everything she knew to be true about werewolves like
Grayson and Maxim.

“Everything all right here?” 

Izzy recognized the sound of Charles Latham’s
voice and turned to see the god striding up. She noticed how quiet
it was in the hallway and instantly thought of the strict policy
against violence. For an instant she worried that he’d throw them
all off the island. And then how would she make the kind of money
she needed to buy Valencia a new car?