Games Demons Play (Mystic Isle, Book 3) (13 page)

“I’ve felt that way before. The night Grayson
and I met. I wasn’t even supposed to be in that part of the woods.
But I went anyway. It’s like I was searching for something. At the
time, I chalked it up to looking for the enemy.”

“But you found Grayson instead.”

Coco nodded.

“So you think I’m searching for something?”
Her gaze drifted back to Shade. He had his back to her and was
stretched over the pool table. Could there be a higher power at
work? Something causing her to do crazy things that she knew she
shouldn’t do? Was she searching for something? An adrenaline rush,
perhaps.

Or maybe she was searching for someone.

“Earth to Izzy.”

Blinking, she turned her head toward
Coco.

“Finish your story.”

She traced back to where she’d left off. “So
I’d lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. My mother had it painted
when I was born. It was very ornate. Like the chapel… in
Italy.”

“The Sistine Chapel?” Coco asked, surprise
coloring her voice.

“Yes. Flowers and clouds. So mother would
send me to bed and I’d lie there, looking at that painting,
dreaming of fairy tales. And I was usually mad at mother of course,
because she reprimanded me. Or the nanny told me how disappointed
she was and that young ladies did not act in such a way. And I
would wish a prince would come rescue me. That I could belong in my
own fairy tale. But that night, as I lay in the alley, the pain
numbed everything but the knowledge that I had once again given
into impulse and this time it would cost me my fairy tale. My
prince. My happily ever after. And even though I was bleeding and
scared of death and angry at the hideous beast who had done that to
me, I gave up on fairy tales and happily ever after and prince
charming and the idea that a man would rescue me.”

“Instead, Valencia rescued you.”

Izzy nodded.

“And you gave up fairy tales for good.”

“Fairy tales are not real, Coco. No one gets
raped and left for dead in Cinderella.”

Coco sighed. “You haven’t read the original
version. One of Cinderella’s sisters cut off her toe so the slipper
would fit.”

Izzy’s eyebrows jumped up and she slumped in
her seat. She had never heard that version of the story. That was
gory all right. In fact, she felt a little sick. Cut off your toe,
for a man? And not even a man she loved. Just a prince. A prince
the wicked step-sister had not loved.

“It gets better,” Coco said. “At the
wedding—”

Izzy held up a hand. “I do not wish to
know.”

“The point is, Izzy. It’s early yet, to give
up on your fairy tale. There’s always second chances. Sometimes you
just have to close your eyes and jump in with both feet.”

“What do you think they’re talking about?
Izzy looks pale,” Shade said as Grayson broke the formation of
colorful balls. As they rolled this way and that, the wolf glanced
across the room at Izzy and Coco.

“Us, probably.”

Shade didn’t like the sound of that.

“Don’t look so stricken, man. Coco’s probably
just giving you her blessing. She’s wanted Izzy to find someone for
a long time.”

Shade frowned and leaned on his pool cue.
“Why is that?”

Grayson glanced up from the table. “Surely
Izzy told you how she became a vampiress…”

Shade nodded.

“They’re best friends, but it’s more than
that. Coco’s protective of her. It’s not like Izzy needs a man to
protect her or anything. My mate has taught the little vamp to
defend herself very well. But you know how women can be. They find
happiness and expect everyone else around them to start seeing
hearts and spouting sonnets.”

Shade didn’t let women get close enough to
see hearts or get any ideas about poetry and flowers. Not before
Izzy. “Thank you for watching out for her.”

Grayson called the far corner and sank
another ball. “About earlier, I’m sorry I lost it on you.”

Shade waved it off. “You didn’t know me.”

Grayson nodded and skirted the table, looking
for his next kill. “When I first met Izzy, I came to Mystic Isle
with a former buddy of mine. Richard’s a serious prick. You know
the type. Thinks he can have whatever he wants when he wants
it.”

Shade grunted in agreement.

“He got drunk one night and set his sights on
Izzy and Coco.”

Shade felt his blood heat. “I bet that was a
hell of a bar tab.” Wolves’ metabolism burned off alcohol quickly.
For one to get drunk meant he had to chugging hard liquor, and
quickly.

“It was. Anyway. They told him to fuck off
and he followed them outside.” Grayson paused and his gaze went far
away. He snorted. “That phrase, seeing red, I totally saw red. If
Latham hadn’t shown up when he did…”

“You went for the throat, did you?” Shade
could still feel the wolf’s massive hand wrapped around his throat
and knew he would be a deadly adversary. He vowed to stay on
Grayson’s good side.

“I tackled his ass. You should have seen the
look on Coco’s face. I like to think I’m pretty kick-ass, since it
was my job and all. But that day, I honestly thought looks might be
able to kill and Richard was about to be toast.”

Shade chuckled.

“It’s no wonder Izzy doesn’t trust wolves. I
don’t blame her. She’s met some pretty crummy examples of our
kind.”

“But she trusts you, right?”

“Hardly.” Grayson missed the next shot and
moved out of the way.

As Shade aimed at the pearly-white ball,
Grayson continued. “I don’t know that she’ll ever really trust me.
I hope she learns to because I can’t stand the thought of Coco
feeling divided between us.”

“I don’t think you have as much to worry
about as you think. I didn’t detect any malice from her where
you’re concerned.”

“Izzy isn’t exactly easy to read.”

Shade nodded and watched the seven ball roll
into the side pocket. “She’s complicated, I’ll give you that.
Loyal. Stubborn.”

Grayson laughed.

“Impulsive,” Shade continued and aimed for
the two ball. “Insistent… on paying her own way. Scared but brave
as hell. She keeps a deck of playing cards in her back pocket like
it’s a rosary. It’s a miracle she can even look at a man after what
happened to her. But she doesn’t let the nightmares haunt her after
she wakes up.”

“She’s still having the nightmares?” Grayson
asked.

Shade nodded.

“You’ll have to give her something new to
dream about, mate.” Grayson grinned as Shade sunk the eight ball.
“You really are one lucky, bastard,” he teased.

“Guilty as charged.”

Charles Latham stared out his office window
at the setting sun. Streaks of brilliant red and burnt orange
colored the western sky, seducing him with its placidness.

Swirling the golden liquid round and round in
the small brandy snifter, he exhaled slowly.

It was going to be a long couple of days.

“Is something wrong, sir?”

He glanced over his shoulder to find Rosanna
standing in the doorway, her perfectly shaped eyebrows knit in
concern. The emotion didn’t surprise him. She wasn’t very good at
keeping her feelings in check.

“Just wondering why I do this to myself.”

She stepped forward. “You’re going to have to
be more specific,” she said dryly. She’d been with him since he
opened the resort and had seen the good, bad and ugliness.

He turned back to the sunset. “At the moment…
the tournament.”

“Ahh. That. You’ll have to be on your
toes.”

“I know.” Running a pleasure playground for
paranormals was risky business. Dangerous immortals combined with
sex and possessive, sometimes competitive, emotions could be an
equation for disaster. But luckily, most everyone followed his
rules. Or suffered the consequences.

Organizing a poker tournament open to
century-old creatures who could read minds, possess their enemies
and kill in the blink of an eye… well, that was just crazy.

Latham thrived on crazy. Craved it even. At
least, he used to.

It was too late to back out now. And a
portion of the proceeds would go to a good cause, so it’d be worth
it. That didn’t change the fact that he’d be watching the floor
with a close eye to make sure no one was cheating.

“You need to go open the tournament.”

A quick glance at the sleek gunmetal gray
watch on his right wrist told him she was right. Refusing to gulp
the expensive French cognac, he set the glass aside and shrugged
into his suit jacket. “Let’s do it.”

He picked up the glass and took a sip on his
way out the door.

The casino was a living, breathing creature
when he arrived a few minutes later. Abuzz with excitement and the
low din of chatter. The bar was three-deep and the extra chairs set
up around the room, completely filled. Dozens of pairs of eyes
turned his way and marked his movement across the room. He was used
to the sensation after six years of running the island.

One of his staff members handed him a
microphone as he stepped onto the elevated platform where the head
table sat beneath spotlights. He wasn’t surprised that the tension
in the room grew thicker as the group focused their attention on
him. There was a lot of money at stake. After he finished his drink
and handed the glass to a waiter, he turned to the crowd.

“Thank you all for joining what I hope will
become a yearly tradition here at Mystic Isle. You’re here for
poker but part of the moneys will go to the Latham/Cross
orphanage.”

He nodded to his pit boss. “Before we begin,
let’s go over the rules.”

Izzy rolled up onto the balls of her feet,
trying to see over the crowd. As the people in front of her
shifted, she caught a glimpse of Charles Latham. He knew how to
wear a suit. That, and he obviously had an excellent tailor.

The handsome blond-haired god held everyone’s
attention but didn’t make a long, drawn-out speech. She appreciated
that. Once again, she felt that time was of the essence. Even if
she couldn’t find a car identical to Gorgeous, she wanted the money
in hand when she saw Valencia again.

“Remember,” Latham said a note of finality
and warning in his voice. “No mind reading. No cheating. Cheaters
will answer to me.”

He glanced around the room, slowly making eye
contact. She could barely see over the tops of people’s heads so
she didn’t have to endure a stare down from the god. One meeting
this visit was enough for her. Being in the company of an
all-knowing was more than a little unnerving.

Latham called Shade onto the stage and made a
big deal about his claim to fame. Izzy smiled as Shade brushed off
the praise. Somewhere, someone snorted. Someone else sighed. There
were a few murmurs about fairness. She did her best to ignore them,
to find her happy place where luck was always on her side.

The hair on the back of her neck tingled and
she shrugged off the uneasy feeling. Someone was watching her.
Lifting her chin, she glanced over her left shoulder. No one was
paying her any attention from that direction. When she turned the
other way a man was moving through the crowd toward her.

His dark brown eyes locked on her. She stuck
her hands in her back pockets and watched him approach. He was
good-looking; had jet-black hair, wavy though it was cropped short.
Not nearly as tall as Shade, but muscular. He wore his clothes
well, casual but clean and well-pressed.

Once upon a time she would have found him
attractive… Would have been pleased to see the small horns peeking
through his hair. But she didn’t feel the slightest stirring.

Whatever he wanted, she didn’t have time for.
She turned her attention back to the stage, but when he sidled up
next to her a second later she sensed his impatience.

“So you’re his new girl.” His voice was
smooth and seductive; his accent foreign but delicious to her
ears.

She feigned innocence, blinking up at him.
“Who’s new girl?”

He chortled. “Joshua Sotenburg. I saw you two
together.”

Izzy licked her lips. His eyes followed the
movement and narrowed. It’d been a long time since Izzy felt in her
element. But poker had been her thing since she’d turned fourteen
and sat down at her first game. For some reason, she was good at
it. At reading people. Which made her past screwups that much
harder to swallow. Why hadn’t she seen the truth in them before it
had been too late?

Was it possible that she was making yet
another mistake where Shade was concerned?

But right now, that delicious feeling of calm
swept through her. She managed to turn off her enchantment with the
bedazzled chandeliers overhead and focus on the game ahead.

But the fool next to her was obviously trying
to fluster her.

She took a deep breath and looked away from
him. “And?”

“The cheering section is over there.” He
jerked a thumb toward the bar.

“Thank you for the information.” Several
heartbeats passed but he didn’t go away. “Was there something
else?” she asked coolly.

“Maybe he’ll tell you how he does it.”

“It?”

“Wins. Cheats.”

It was Izzy’s turn to laugh. She glanced back
at the man. “I am sorry. I did not catch your name.”

“Blythe Jordan.”

“And you want me to find out all his secrets
and report back to you?” she murmured, trying her best to sound
conspiratorial.

He looked surprised for two whole heartbeats.
It made her blood hum with adrenaline. She couldn’t wait to get her
hands on the green felt of the poker table. Winning was addictive.
Watching men who underestimated her eat their words was the
ultimate high. Far too often the male of the species looked at her
blonde hair and blue eyes and thought she was stupid. Their
mistake.

“Would you?” He turned on a charming smile
and shifted toward her.