Night's Surrender (23 page)

“Logan, you're not going to believe this.”

About to place a red ten on a blackjack, Logan muttered, “Believe what?”

“Edna and Pearl are getting married in Las Vegas next Saturday night, and we're invited.”

He snorted as he placed a black eight on a red nine. “Who the hell would marry either one of those old bats?”

Moving up behind him, Mara reached over his shoulder and placed a red seven on the black eight. “You know what they say?” she murmured in his ear. “There's a man for every woman.”

“Or a weirdo for every dingbat,” he said, pulling her down into his lap. “You're not seriously thinking about going, are you?”

“Of course.”

Logan shrugged. “Last time I was in Vegas, I was dealing for the house at one of the casinos. I remember there was this pretty little blond dancer . . . Nanette . . . Ow!”

“You get that little blond right out of your head, Mr. Blackwood.”

“Well, I'll try, but she was something else. Legs that wouldn't quit. Big blue eyes . . . Damn, woman!” he exclaimed when she pinched his arm. “That hurt.”

She glared at him. “It was supposed to,” she said, and then her expression softened. “I'll bet I can make you forget all about that little blond tart.”

“You think so?”

Mara batted her eyelashes at him as she slipped one hand under his shirt. “I'll make you forget she ever existed,” she promised, her voice low and sultry. “And if you ever mention her name again, I'll rip out your heart and feed it to you.”

 

 

“Married! Pearl and Edna are getting married!”

Sheree looked up from her book. “To each other?”

Derek shook his head. “Of course not, silly. They found true love in some little town in New Mexico.”

“My dad always said anything is possible,” Sheree said with a grin. “I guess this proves he was right.”

“Go buy yourself a new dress, sweetheart. This is bound to be the wedding of the century. We don't want to miss it!”

 

 

Rafe laughed as he read the invitation a second time. “You know, Kath, when I turned those two, I never expected them to survive this long, much less find true love in Dune, New Mexico!”

 

 

Abbey grinned in spite of herself when she opened the wedding invitation. Most invitations were printed on white or ivory card stock. Leave it to Pearl and Edna to come up with something unique—the invitation was in the shape of a large, sparkly red heart. The text was in bright pink. She couldn't wait to see what they considered appropriate bridal wear.

Nick shook his head when she showed him the gaudy invitation and matching envelope. “Vegas,” he muttered. “Why am I not surprised? What do you want to bet the minister will be an Elvis impersonator!”

Abbey had never been to Las Vegas. She knew she was acting like a small-town tourist but who could blame her? She had never seen anything like it, not even in New York. The casinos were lit up like Christmas trees. Never in her life had she seen so much neon. Or so many people—some in fancy clothes and expensive shoes, others in torn jeans and T-shirts. Men and women thronged the sidewalks, laughing and talking as they moved from one hotel to another, or stood at the curb, waiting to cross the street. Taxis, cars, air buses, and motor homes waited in queues on the aprons leading up to the casinos.

Logan had used his pull as a well-known movie producer to get suites for everyone in the family at the MGM Grand, which certainly lived up to its name.

The wedding was set for midnight and the family had agreed to meet at the chapel at eleven-thirty.

“So,” Nick said, after they had checked into the hotel and dropped off their luggage, “we've got a couple of hours to kill. What would you like to do?”

“Gamble, of course!”

“Feeling lucky, are you?” he asked with awry grin.

Abbey batted her eyelashes at him. “Always, since I met you.”

Nick reached for her, but she slipped out of his grasp with a murmured “Later.”

Grumbling about the honeymoon being over, he followed her into the elevator and down to the floor of the casino.

The first thing Abbey noticed when they entered the gaming area was the noise. Bells and whistles, hoots and hollers from the players, the rattle of dice from the craps table, the whir of the Wheel of Fortune. If it was loud for her, how much worse was it for Nick, with his preternatural hearing?

“What's your pleasure?” he asked. “Blackjack? Craps? Roulette? The slots?”

“The slot machines, I think. I don't know how to play any of the other games.”

“Slots, it is.”

He led her to a bank of machines, stopped in front of a dollar slot, and pulled up a stool for her to sit on.

Abbey tapped her foot in anticipation as she watched the wheels spin, held her breath as they slowed. One seven. Two sevens. She let out a squeal when the third seven stopped on the line. “I won!”

She played for another half an hour, winning more than she lost, and then she was ready to try something else.

Nick headed for the nearest blackjack table, where he bought six hundred dollars worth of chips, stacked half in front of her, and quickly explained the rules. It was a quick game, won or lost on the turn of a card. She didn't know if there was any skill involved. It seemed to be a matter of luck, as far as she could tell. And yet Nick won consistently. When she asked what his secret was, he whispered something about counting cards, but it didn't mean anything to her.

From the blackjack table they went to try their hand at roulette, which really was a game of luck, she thought, since no one could predict whether the little white ball would land on red or white or on the number chosen.

She checked the time on her phone, then tugged at Nick's arm. “We need to go.”

“Too bad,” he muttered. “I'm on a hot streak.”

 

 

The Elvis chapel proved to be a dazzling white building surrounded by a white wall and flanked by a pair of trees glittering with tiny white lights. The inside was lovely, with a dark blue carpet and a white stage with four pillars.

Abbey and Nick were the last to arrive. After exchanging hugs and hellos with everyone else, Abbey took the chair next to her mother's. “Has anyone seen the brides?”

“Not yet,” Savanah said. “I can't wait to see what they're wearing.”

Abbey grinned.

A moment later, a recording of Elvis singing “As Long as I Have You” came over the speakers. Monroe and James entered through a side door and stood in front of the stage. Monroe wore a gaudy pink, orange, and yellow Hawaiian shirt à la
Blue Hawaii
. Going for the
Viva Las Vegas
look, James sported a yellow jacket over black slacks. Both wore colorful leis.

Abbey glanced over her shoulder to see a dead-on Elvis look-alike escorting Pearl and Edna down the center aisle. She bit back a grin when she saw the brides. Carrying out the
Blue Hawaii
theme, Pearl wore a long Hawaiian dress with a short train. A red hibiscus adorned her white hair, a red and white lei circled her neck.

Edna wore a bright yellow dress reminiscent of the one Ann-Margret had worn in
Viva Las Vegas
. Her lei was pink and white.

The Elvis impersonator wore a skin-tight white jumpsuit similar to the outfit the real Elvis had worn during his
Aloha from Hawaii
concert. He was, Abbey thought, the most remarkable look-alike she had ever seen.

When the trio reached the stage, Monroe and James stepped forward to claim their brides.

Elvis took his place onstage.

Abbey couldn't stop staring at him. If she hadn't known that the King had died decades years before she was born, she would have sworn he was standing in front of her. His pompadour was perfect. He had the same sexy bedroom eyes, the same curl to his lips.

“Welcome to Las Vegas,” he said in the best impersonator voice Abbey had ever heard. “We are here to celebrate the most important day any lovin' couple can have. That day when a man and a woman pledge their undying devotion to their favorite teddy bear.

“James, please take Edna Mae's hand in yours and repeat after me, I, James Harkness, take you, Edna Mae Turner, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to love you tender and always treat you nice, to have and to hold from this day forward.”

Abbey smiled as she listened to the two couples repeat their vows.

Elvis twitched his hips. At Monroe's nod, Elvis said, “Monroe, I want you to gaze deeply into the eyes of your beloved—yes, just like that. Now, repeat after me, I give you this ring as a symbol and token of my undying love. I promise I will never, ever, treat you like a hound dog, but will always treat you nice. And that I will love only you for as long as I live.”

Abbey glanced at Nick as the couples exchanged rings. She didn't have to read his mind to know he found the whole thing terribly amusing.

After both couples had exchanged rings and vows, Elvis sang “Can't Help Falling in Love” while the newlyweds danced.

When the song ended, Elvis winked at Monroe and James. “Gentlemen, you may kiss your brides.”

Amidst a burst of applause, the couples kissed.

Abbey looked over at Nick, who leaned toward her and said, in a fair impression of the King, “Darlin', you'll always be my hunka-hunka burnin' love.”

Abbey was laughing as they left the chapel. Vampires being what they were, there was no reception, no cake, only hugs for the brides and congratulations for the grooms. And a not-so-subtle warning from Rafe, reminding Monroe and James that Edna and Pearl were part of the Cordova family and under their protection.

A few last congratulations and they all went their separate ways—the newlyweds hurried off to the hotel, Logan and Mara decided to see the show at The Venetian, Savanah and Kathy dragged their husbands off for a night of dancing; Derek and Sheree opted to go sightseeing.

Abbey wondered if they would all get together later, after she was asleep, to go hunting.

“Alone at last,” Nick said as they strolled back to the MGM. “What do you want to do now?”

Abbey shrugged. “I don't know. What do you want to do?”

“How's this for a start?” Drawing her into the shadows, he wrapped her in his arms, lowered his head, and kissed her.

She leaned into him, her hands fisting in his shirt front, pulling him closer. He slid one hand down her back, drawing her body even tighter against his.

His voice a husky growl, he said, “I think I know what I want to do now.”

 

 

Abbey was asleep, a satisfied smile on her face, when Nick left the hotel. Even though it was close to three
A.M.
, people still crowded the sidewalks. Of course, it was an entirely different class of people. This late—or early—the underside of the city came out to play.

Nick strolled down the sidewalk, aware of a man and woman coupling in the alley across the street. Several hookers—ranging from young and uncertain to older and wiser—propositioned him along the way. He passed an old man snoring on a bus bench, sidestepped a man and a woman laughing drunkenly as they shuffled none too steadily toward their destination.

So many people, Nick mused irritably, and none of them appealed to him.

He was on his way back to the hotel, and the warmth of his bride's bed, when a man darted out from behind a parked car. Wielding a large knife, he snarled, “Gimme your wallet!”

Nick snorted. “Go to hell.”

The man stared at him, rage building in his eyes, and then he sprang forward, his blade arrowing toward Nick's heart.

Nick moved instinctively, easily avoiding the blade as he plucked the weapon out of the man's hand. “You're not much,” Nick muttered as he tossed the knife aside. “But it's late and I'm hungry.”

Abbey stared up at the ceiling. Nick had been gone for about an hour. Out searching for prey, no doubt. Or bending over the neck of some sweet young thing.

He had thought her asleep when he left, but sleep eluded her. For a time, she contemplated how much she loved him. How much she loved
making
love to him. Each time proved better than the last.

In the chapel tonight, surrounded by her family, she had felt like an outsider—a sparrow flying with eagles. Were they all out there hunting the night together while she lay here in the dark alone and lonely? Would she be happier if she were with them, preying on some helpless mortal?

She quickly shut the door on that train of thought and focused on the wedding instead. Edna and Pearl were in their seventies, yet they could look forward to hundreds of years with the men they loved. If she was lucky, she might share sixty years with Nick. What would it be like, when she was in her seventies or eighties, and he still looked like a man in his late twenties? Would he stay with her until she passed away? Would she even want him to?

Blinking back her tears, she turned onto her side and stared into the darkness as she waited for him to return.