Gambling on Her Bear (Shifters in Vegas) (13 page)

She shivered, trying to push thoughts of disaster away. Tanner said it was all taken care of. Schiller would be out of the casino until at least midnight at a meeting with his business associates, the Westend wolves. Which left her three hours to win and win big.

“Definitely gonna be our lucky night,” the woman said, walking toward the entrance of the Scarlet Palace.

Karen forced her legs to follow the couple, clutching her purse close. The two thousand dollars in her pocket was peanuts compared to what she had in her bag, because she’d spent the day going from one small casino to another, raking up modest wins that would fall under the radar of casino security. Five thousand here, seven or eight thousand there. All it took was a tiny flick of her fingers just as the reels of a slot machine clicked into position or the split second before a roulette ball fell. She could risk little bursts of magic as long as she stuck to small bets in human-run establishments around town.

And it worked. The ten thousand dollars she’d started with had multiplied to over one hundred thousand — enough to set the main part of Tanner’s plan into motion.

She tilted her head back and looked past all the glittering windows and lights of Vegas to the stars emerging in the indigo sky. One last look at freedom, one last gulp of fresh air—

Someone jostled her, and she stumbled inside.

“Sorry, honey,” a man said, grabbing her by the elbow.

She was so on edge, she nearly flashed her dragon fangs.

“No problem.” She faked a smile.

If nothing else, the little push had rushed her past the bouncers stationed at the doors without a second glance.

“How about I make it up to you with a drink at the bar?” the man who’d bumped her offered. He was bald and short and smelled like so many other humans in Vegas — a blend of hope and despair, half hidden behind his cheap cologne. But she figured he’d make good cover, so she played along.

“Sure,” she nodded, taking the elbow he offered.

If it had been Tanner at her side, she’d have felt like a million bucks. Women would turn their heads with jealous looks, and men would move aside to make way for Tanner’s bulk. She entertained herself with that little fantasy all the way to the mezzanine-level bar. The place overlooked the gambling floor where she spotted Tanner making his rounds. Just seeing him settled the butterflies fluttering inside her.

“I love this place,” the man said, pointing at the bar sign. “Bloody Mary’s.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What will it be, honey?”

She wasn’t this human’s honey, and she wasn’t in the mood for a drink with anything red in it, so she ordered a tequila with lime and suffered through his conversation while checking out the scene below.

Semicircular tables took up most of the floor space in the blackjack hall. Mirrors covered the walls, making the room look twice its actual size. She leaned right, trying to catch a glimpse of the corner Tanner had told her about, but she couldn’t quite spot it.

It’s the only table in the whole place that only has one camera on it,
he’d explained back in the hotel room, where they’d lain skin to skin, formulating a plan.

The way the mirrors were angled made it perfect, too. Tanner had scoped it out himself. The only mirror that might have reflected their target table to another camera or pair of eyes had been taken out to widen a service door.

Karen’s eyes darted over the tables as a chant went through her mind.

Will not screw this up. Cannot screw this up. Not like last time.

“You going to play the slots tonight, honey?” her companion asked, grinning at her through nicotine-stained teeth.

She held back a scowl. The slot machines had been her undoing three weeks ago, when she’d been fool enough to march into this very casino and try a little magic on them. The witch on duty had been a sharp one — sharp enough to sense the magic and to let Karen play just long enough to be nabbed with eighty thousand dollars she’d won illegally — illegally, that is, by the unwritten rules of the Scarlet Palace. When Schiller found out she was a dragon, he’d locked her up and held her for ransom. Thank God for older sisters coming to the rescue, though even that had been a close call.

She licked salt off her knuckle, gulped her tequila, and sucked on a slice of lime, trying to replace one bitter taste with another. That was all in the past. Tonight was about the future, and God, she couldn’t wait to put Vegas behind her.

When her companion took a swig of his own drink, she peeked at his watch. Already a quarter to eight?

“Well, thanks.” She stood abruptly and stepped away from the table.

“What? Honey, we haven’t even started to have fun.”

She faked a sad smile. “Gotta go. Good luck.” The man had helped her enter the casino unnoticed, but the last thing she needed was for him to hang around now that the arranged time was approaching. So she raced out of the bar before he could follow her and waved to one of the women hovering by the balcony — one of many painted ladies looking for an easy ride for the night.

“The bald guy at the corner table isn’t much to look at,” she said, jabbing a thumb back. “But he has cash to burn tonight.”

Her words were aimed at one woman, but three primped their hair and closed in on the bar.

Karen grinned, then pursed her lips. If only the rest of the night would be as easy. But it had only just begun.

“I’m in,” Karen said, sliding into the last free chair at the corner table before anyone else beat her to it.

The portly hedgehog shifter who’d just vacated the space winked on his way out, and Karen hid her smile.

Just like Tanner arranged.
Her dragon nodded in satisfaction.

The dealer’s eyes didn’t so much as flicker, even though he was in on the arrangement, too. In fact, he was a key piece of the puzzle that had to align perfectly if she was going to make it out of the casino alive with a million dollars. The man’s name tag said Dexter Davitt, but Tanner had called him Dex.

Find the corner table. The one where Dex deals,
he’d said.

Dex?

The smile Tanner flashed when he explained was the only one he’d shown in the time they’d spent going over his plan.
Dex. A friend of mine.

How will I recognize him?

Another grin.
Think Denzel Washington crossed with Brad Pitt.

She’d had a hard time imagining that, but now, she understood. Dex had the smile and charm of the former plus the bright eyes of the latter Hollywood star. The standard-issue smile he shot at her showed a row of perfect white teeth against his dark skin — enough to make two nearby women sigh. Karen might have drooled the way they did, too, if she hadn’t already lost her heart to Tanner.

Tanner, who kept striding in and out of her vision if she peeked at just the right time. His job was to keep other security guards away; hers was to work with Dex to win big.

Dex, the panther shifter. She looked at the man’s impassive face. Tanner trusted the panther, so she would, too. Dex would earn a fifty percent cut of the winnings — a cool million of his own — if everything went right tonight. And that meant she had to win two million to come away with enough for Tanner’s clan after splitting the total with Dex.

And what about the Blood Diamond?
her dragon asked.

That was the only part of the plan she disliked.
Hated
was more like it, but Tanner had been right about giving up on the diamond. It was too risky, too much to try for at once, and she was turning over a new leaf in her life. Swindling Schiller out of enough money to derail his Idaho casino deal would have to be reward enough — together with the reward of getting out alive with her mate, whose steady, solid presence she could feel from across the room.

Focus, already. Focus!

Dex sat across the table from her, making his casino uniform look like a finely tailored suit. On her right were two men: first, a human in jeans and an expensive leather jacket who sported a thick mustache that would have given Freddie Mercury a run for his money. Beside him sat a penguin shifter — the scent and the tuxedo were a dead giveaway.

To Karen’s left was a haughty brunette who looked about to bust out of her sheath dress. Her lips were painted so red, she was bound to pick up a vampire sooner or later.

It’s not worth it, honey,
Karen wanted to whisper, but she kept her mouth shut.

On the outer left sat a human in a somber suit who shook a couple of chips in his hand as if this was a craps game and not blackjack. The chips clinked and pinged against each other, driving Karen nuts. The final gambler was a woman in a black-and-white dress. Karen squinted and realized the pattern was made up entirely of little Elvis silhouettes, repeated over and over again.

“Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen. Place your bets,” Dex called.

Karen placed her chips on the table in neat stacks and took a deep breath. She didn’t dare glance behind her to where Tanner said the sole camera aimed at Dex’s table was placed. She bet two five-hundred-dollar chips, waited for the deal, checked her cards…and promptly lost.

Freddie Mercury pumped a fist. Elvis-girl squeaked. Karen pretended to look disappointed, because that was all part of the plan — to lose some, win some, until the moment came to win big.

Really big,
her dragon added.

She blinked a few times to make sure her eyes didn’t shine the way they did whenever her dragon saw riches, then placed another bet.

“Hit me,” she said on the second round. With a nine and a three in her hand, she didn’t really have a choice, not with the dealer showing a card that was unlikely to bust.

Dex obliged, sliding her another card, which she left facedown until he called the round.

“Damn,” she muttered, flipping over an eight.

“Bust,” the woman with the overdone lipstick sneered.

I’ll show you bust, lady,
her dragon muttered in her head.

Karen rearranged her stack of chips and bided her time. The skin on the back of her neck prickled as the space behind her filled with a feathery noise.

“Dex, honey, how long are you working tonight?” a woman’s voice called.

All the men swiveled their heads around fast enough to risk whiplash, and when Karen turned, she saw why. A Vegas showgirl stood there, tall and practically topless but for the scraps of fabric covering her nipples. The plumage rising high from her headdress would have covered more than those tiny triangles with tassels on the ends.

The headdress is covering the security camera, too,
her dragon pointed out.

Her mate was a goddamn genius, bringing the showgirl in on this. A showgirl looking to earn a little bonus before she left Vegas for good, he’d said.

“Hi, Amber,” Dex said to the showgirl. “I’m on for another hour, baby.”

Her feathers were the perfect means to block the camera without drawing attention. And if Tanner was right, the security detail currently on duty was the slowest and laziest of the bunch. Chances of them noticing the blocked camera and hustling the showgirl along were slim.

“Too bad,” Amber sighed. “I’ll just watch for a few minutes.”

Karen’s pulse spiked, because there was a message coded into those words.
All set. Camera’s blocked, but not for very long.

It took everything she had not to lean forward eagerly and push every one of her chips into the betting box.

Bet small first, then build up,
Tanner had told her, and it was his gig, so she did exactly as she was told, putting another thousand on the table. Dex made the briefest possible eye contact with her when he dealt, but his signal was clear.
One ace and one nine, coming right up.

Nineteen to the dealer’s ten. She waved her hand, rejecting a third card. “Stand.”

She beat the house on that round, and the next, and the next, betting higher every time until she was playing the limit every round. She stayed just under the amount Dex was required to call in and obtain approval for, which would protect the dealer when all was said and done.

A bead of sweat formed on her brow. Time was ticking, and though she didn’t dare count her chips, she knew she had close to eight hundred thousand dollars.

If Tanner had been at the table with her, he would have shaken his head.
Not enough. Not nearly enough since we have to split it with Dex.

She tapped her fingers on the green felt of the table, wishing the other players would speed the hell up. The guy on her left kept sliding his chips around, making an agonizing decision about every bet. And no wonder, because he was losing. Red Lips lost a lot, too, which only made her toss down more of the pink cocktail in a glass now smudged with lipstick all the way around the rim. Somehow, that drove Karen crazy, too. Everything did except the cards she drew.

“Wow, two nines,” the penguin shifter marveled at her next hand.

“Split,” she murmured, trying to keep her cool while Dex dealt her a jack and an ace.

“Holy…” Freddie Mercury said.

“Double,” she said, tapping her bet.