IM01 - Carpe Noctem (19 page)

Nicholas gave me an understanding nod, and we watched as the cards were dealt around. I noted the different players at the table, all men. Poker was a man’s game. It wasn’t common to see women sitting at the table. I felt waves of excitement radiating from the men as I sat there. I wished I could read their minds, but I guessed they were thinking that I, too, would be easy money.

“I’ll go easy on you, darlin’,” said a drunken man to my right, wearing a crisp white cowboy hat.

“Aw, thanks.” I smiled innocently. “I’d hate to lose all my money my first time in Vegas.” It was a small lie, yes. But if they wanted to think I was a noob, I was going to act the part. “Wanna give me a few pointers?”

“How about I buy you a drink?” he said, leaning into me.

I accidentally allowed myself to breathe in his scent.
You could give me a drink
. My tongue traced the tips of my teeth as I thought of tasting this man’s blood.

“When do we get to play?” Nicholas asked.

Good timing. “Uh, soon. We will be in the blinds soon.”
Down, girl. Breathe through your mouth. What would Lysander say if he just caught you smelling that guy?

“He your boyfriend?” the cowboy asked me.

“Something like that.” I smiled and winked.

A few hands went by before we were able to post our blinds and start playing. Nicholas eagerly placed his chips on the table, just past the betting line, and snatched his cards as the dealer tossed them out. I glanced at the cards dealt to me. Unimpressed, I set them out, ready to fold when it was my turn.

I sensed worry from one of the gentleman sitting across from me, and it dawned on me that my mental abilities might make this game a bit more interesting. All of the faces at the table were hard and cold. Each person was trying as best as he could to maintain that stoic look, never giving away that he might hold a monster hand in his cards; hoping to sucker some poor fool into giving away all his chips.

The silent man, with the large headphones and sunglasses, at the end of the table placed a few more chips into the betting area, calling “Raise” as he did it.

I folded my cards when it was my turn, but Nicholas didn’t. He placed his chips inside the bet-ting area.

“Don’t risk it all on your first hand, bro,” Damon warned.

I agreed with Damon. This was only the first hand. There was plenty of time to make dangerous moves after studying your opponents.

Nicholas didn’t seem to pay any attention to Damon’s warning. His eyes fixed on the man in the sunglasses— who had previously taken the stack of chips from the overzealous player.

The dealer dealt out the three flop cards.

I sensed a hint of worry in the quiet man. Nicholas crossed his hands in front of his face, appearing to ponder what to do. It was his turn again to bet or to fold.

I had no doubt that Nicholas could sense the feelings from this stranger and perhaps even read his thoughts as I had seen other vampires of the clan do.

Nicholas sat silent for a long while. I wondered if this was a ploy, a dramatic pause to force the man on the other side of the table to show some outward sign of the strength of his poker hand.

For someone unfamiliar with the game, he was playing quite well. I was almost certain he was using some kind of sense to tell him what to do.

“Check,” said Nicholas letting the man with the headphones lead the betting.

The man with the headphones called “Raise,” again, shoving more chips in to the middle. Nicholas didn’t visibly react to this; he simply lowered his hands and pushed more chips in as well.

I wonder if he is letting this guy hang himself?

The turn card was dealt, with betting going exactly as it had before, and finally the river card came out. Nicholas must have decided it was now time to make his move. He confidently announced “All in,” shoving the remainder of his dwindling chip stack into the center of the table.

I shook my head. I really hoped he knew what he was doing. At that point, he'd played one hand and committed all of his money, a two-hundred-dollar buy-in, to the center of the table.

“Slow down, bro, you really want to bet it all on one hand?” Damon cautioned again.

The man sitting opposite of him thought long and hard on what to do. I sensed he didn’t want to call. He was worried about something. Perhaps the strength of his hand was not as he was pretending. I guessed he hadn’t expected Nicholas to play back at him. Silent moments went by before the quiet man slid his cards to the dealer, folding his hand.

A small smile stretched the corners of Nicholas’s mouth. He happily scooped the large pot to himself and appeared eager to start the next hand.

“Thought you didn’t play Hold’em?” Damon asked.

Nicholas laughed. “Beginner’s luck.”

I knew otherwise. He was silently controlling his opponent, forcing him to fold, relinquishing all of his chips. Once I had caught onto this tactic, I used it as well.

Screw robbing my victims. I’m playing poker for money. I’ll be rich in no time.

Mind control brought a whole new dimension to the game. We played for a few hours while the rest of the clan explored the Strip.

The three of us ran the table, piling our chips high. Two hundred dollars quickly turned into two thousand before the rest of the group returned, beckoning us to join them. They wanted to continue exploring the Strip. Apparently, we’d spent too much time at the poker table, and they had grown tired of the casinos within walking distance.

The night was still young, and there was much more to see and do. We continued our way north toward Downtown.

Although often confused by many people not native to Vegas, Downtown and the Strip are two entirely different places. Old Vegas has a gritty charm and presence all its own, separate from the bright shining new jewels that lined Las Vegas Boulevard.

This was more of what the clan expected of Las Vegas; older casinos with a rough and aged vibe, worn carpet, and the stale smell of cigarette smoke. This was the Vegas they knew from the last time they’d visited.

The block of Downtown casinos was located near the intersection of Main Street and Fremont Street. This was where the gambling town had gotten its start.

We made our way down Fremont Street just in time to see the overhead light show. The street went dim as the music started. A long metal canopy ran the length of the block of hotels and acted as a projection screen of sorts, showing images dancing to the beat of the music which played over loudspeakers lining the street.

The clan stared in amazement as colors flashed above us. Amusing images of stars set to rock music enticed us to move with them as they danced up and down the canopy.

Once the light show ended, it was decided we’d all split up. Many of us, myself included, needed to hunt. Everyone went their separate ways, leaving me almost alone. Lysander, however, remained as my chaperone. We walked down the street, taking in the sights and sounds.

“I’m sorry we quarreled the other night,” he said softly. “I understand that you need your free-dom.”

We hadn’t really spoken since the fight. It was nice to hear the softness in his voice. I wanted to remain mad at him for the mean things he’d said to me, but deep down, I knew he was partly right. I had a knack for pushing too hard to get my way. Though I needed freedom to clear my head and accept all that had happened to me, I still needed his guidance. The incident with Erick was proof of that.

“I am just trying to protect you,” Lysander continued. “You are young and there is still much for you to learn.”

I stopped and looked up at him. His big, beautiful blue-gray eyes met mine and I felt his warmth again. He looked at me kindly.

“I know you are trying to teach me and I’m very thankful for that, but you can’t deny me my freedom. I can’t live feeling like a caged rat. I have to be free to accept—”

“Alyssa, please have patience. Your freedom will come when you are ready. Let me teach you more before you attempt to make your way alone.”

“I’m not asking to leave you, Lysander. I just want the freedom to come and go as I please. I need to find some semblance of control over this new life. I need something to grasp onto. This whole change has turned my world upside down.”

There was a look of relief in his eyes. I wondered if he thought my pressuring for freedom was a request to leave him. A small hope entered my mind. Maybe he did have some feelings for me. Maybe there was more to him than the cold, hard shell he showed me.

“Look, I’ve never had to live under someone’s rule before,” I continued. “Even as a child, I had freedom from my parents. I have to do things for myself, and all I ask is the freedom to do that. ”

“I see my warnings have no effect on you,” Lysander sighed. “I do not wish to get into another quarrel with you, Alyssa.”

“Then don’t keep me prisoner. Trust me and let me have my freedom, and we won’t have a reason to fight.”

“Fine. I will allow you to hunt alone, provided you promise to be careful and let me know where you are going. Until the threat from Kallisto and her coven has been taken care of, it is still very dangerous out there.”

“It’s a start,” I agreed. It was a compromise, and it seemed the only way to end our current fight. I forced a smile on my face and nodded to Lysander.

He brought his hand up to my chin, lifting my head just slightly, and kissed my forehead.

“I just wish to protect you. You are important to me,” he whispered.

We walked to the end of the Fremont Street canopy. My hunger had been kept at bay long enough.

“I need to hunt now. Will you let me go?”

I sensed the worry and saw the reluctance in his eyes.

“Go,” he said, almost whispering.

“I’ll return when I’m done. I won’t be far.” It was a small test to see if he would really let me go. Lysander slowly turned towards the crowd of tourists.

Thank you
. I sighed and headed off into the darkened street ahead.

CHAPTER 16

* * * * *

My solo hunt on Freemont Street had gone well and Lysander, seemed to be relaxing on his overprotectiveness. Things were beginning to look up.  Thankful for the newfound privacy, I planned to take my first unaccompanied trip into the city, with one little detour. I needed to go home, to see it one more time, and say goodbye.

I knew it was forbidden. Lysander had made it very clear that I was dead to the mortal world now. I didn’t care. I had to have some closure and since I would have this little bit of privacy to do it, I felt it was time.

The only way I would be able to accomplish this was to leave without drawing attention to myself. I didn’t want to have to tell Lysander where I was going, and he always seemed to know what I was thinking.

An opportunity to leave presented itself as if fate wanted me to go. Lysander sat in the dining room, engrossed in a new project. Papers covered the large mahogany table. He worked with various colored pencils, drawing new sketches for his book. I knew that would keep him occupied. Lysander was meticulous, sparing no detail in his work. I could only guess at the amount of focus it took to complete such beautiful works of art. I knew one thing, though; he should be occupied all night.

I borrowed the keys to his SUV, walking out as quietly as I could. A small sense of unease struck me as I shoved the keys in the ignition. I wondered, for a moment, how mad Lysander would be if he knew what I was up to. But mad or not, I had to do this.

Miles flew by quickly as I headed into the heart of the city. Before I could mentally prepare myself, I was there, in the parking lot of the familiar strip mall that held my favorite café.

I managed to park in a spot close enough to allow me to see in through Copioh’s front windows. I hoped no one would be able to see me, though. I wasn’t ready for questions. In all honesty, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do when I got there. My planning had ended with taking the car and driving; one of the downfalls of my often quixotic nature. Now that I was here, I was kind of at a loss as to what to do.

Copioh was the same as it had always been—not that I had expected much to change in a week.

I cracked the window, lowering it just an inch so I could take in the familiar smell. I used to love the fragrant aroma of espresso and chocolate that leaked from the old coffee house.

The smell seemed different now. The thick, sweet aroma of the people standing outside altered the scent. While it was very appealing, it no longer gave me the same feeling of home. My throat dried up as the scent teased my hunger, reminding me of my need to hunt for the night. I pushed back the thoughts of blood and concentrated on the café.

Had anyone noticed that I hadn’t been around?

I surveyed the parking lot, looking for familiar faces, before turning my attention back to the front window of the café.

I’d hoped I would be missed. I wanted to see a missing person sign posted in the window, something to tell me my disappearance had some effect. I didn’t want to be another nameless, faceless statistic. College girl goes missing. No! I wanted someone to care that I was gone.

I stared into the café’s front window, spotting a thin blonde girl sitting on my favorite couch. My heart skipped a beat. It was Fallon, my longtime best friend. I looked at my watch.

Nine o’clock. Right on time as usual. Too bad she couldn’t have been on time a week ago.

I should have guessed she would be there waiting for me. In my mortal life, we were always there, together, right after work. She jerked her head towards the door as it opened.

I ducked below the dashboard in reaction—not that she would have been able to see me behind the heavily tinted windows of the SUV.

Peeking up, I saw disappointment flash across her face, as if she were expecting someone and he or she hadn’t shown.

Is she waiting for me?

The Goth teenagers meandered in front of the café as usual. Their mindless wandering aggravated me. Every few moments, a black cloak or rail-thin person blocked my view into the front window.