Pretty When They Collide (2 page)

At the door to the suite, Leonard made quite a show of pulling out the keycard and swiping it. The guards lingered in the corridor, back to back, studying the opposite ends of it.

“
We
’
re going to have such a good time, my little Britney,” Leonard whispered, licking her lips.

“
You have
no idea
, Asher!” Cassandra answered, twirling her fake extensions again.

One of the guards moved toward the door and Cassandra placed her hand on his arm. “Oh, no, no. I don
’
t do group things.”

“
Stay outside, Ramon. It
’
ll be okay.” Leonard winked and pushed the door open.

“
I
’
m here to guard the package, not you,” Ramon answered tersely.

Flustered, Leonard yanked Cassandra inside, anxious to shut the door. “Well, everything is safe in here.”

“
I
’
m supposed to guard the package until delivery,” Ramon responded. “I
’
m coming in.”

“
I think I broke a nail,” Cassandra wailed, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

“
You
’
re still beautiful,” Leonard assured her, while trying to keep Ramon outside. His hand pressed against the other man
’
s chest, he said, “I promise you, Ramon, it will be just fine. This is the only way into the room.”

“
Let him get laid,” the other guard interjected. “Shit, man, I
’
d like to get me some of that, so don
’
t cock block like an asshole.”

Ramon hesitated, then finally acquiesced. “Fine, but I need to check the suite first.”

“
Well, hurry,” Leonard ordered imperiously. “Time is of the essence.”

“
Whatever,” Ramon grumbled, brushing past them into the suite.

Cassandra made a big show of filing one of her red acrylic nails while the burly guard examined every possible hiding space in the room. While he searched, Cassandra furtively scanned the room, memorizing the layout. Finally satisfied, Ramon sauntered to the door.

“
Remember, the boss arrives soon. So whatever you
’
re going to do, make it fast.” Ramon gave Cassandra a contemptuous look.

She winked at him.
Ramon frowned.

With a triumphant smile, Leonard slammed the door in the guard
’
s face.

In one swift motion, Cassandra lifted one foot, grabbed the heel, hit the concealed button releasing the stiletto from her shoe, and punched it through Leonard
’
s heart. The silver in the heel instantly paralyzed him and he toppled into her arms, his glamour vanishing.

“
Good boy,” she whispered in his ear. “We don
’
t need any noise.” Tossing him onto the bed, Cassandra straddled him and rested her elbows on his chest
,
staring into his terrified brown eyes. His pockmarked skin drained of color when he caught sight of her teeth sharpening into fangs. “I
’
m so glad you finally got me alone. I
’
ve been starving all night. And I really hate foreplay, so why don
’
t we get down to it?”

The paralyzed vampire
’
s eyes widened in fear. Unable to call out, move, or fight back, he was as helpless as any of his previous victims. That thought made Cassandra
’
s smile grow into a terrible grin seconds before she sank her sharp teeth into his cold flesh and drank his undead blood.

Chapter 2
:

The Beautiful Prisoner

The bright lights of Vegas reflected off the darkened windows of the limousine as it rolled along the boulevard. It was close to ten in the evening and the sidewalks and walkways were packed with tourists. Some were dressed in their flashiest outfits, while others were in shorts and t-shirts. Children skipped alongside their bedazzled parents while elderly couples strolled hand in hand admiring the exploding volcano nearby. It was a wild, bright paradise that promised anything a person could desire.

Yet, the excitement of the revelers left Aimee cold. She knew what lurked in the shadows and hid behind the sparkling veneer. It was difficult not to feel morose when she knew that some of the enthralled people visiting Vegas would never leave it alive.

“
I can
’
t imagine what this place will be like in another hundred years,” the man beside her said thoughtfully. “Of course, I
’
ll be around to find out and if you play your cards right, so will you.” Lifting Aimee
’
s hand to his cool lips, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“
I may outlive you, you know. No one knows how long a witch
’
s lifespan actually is,” Aimee answered in a dark tone.

“
That
’
s right. Your kind usually ends up dead at a very young age by nefarious means. You
’
d best try to avoid that.” His voice was smooth as silk, but there was a subtle threat there.

Dressed fashionably in an Armani tuxedo, his black hair immaculately coiffed, his goatee sculpted to perfection, and his black eyes hidden behind red-tinted glasses, her lover and master exuded the elegant sophistication cultivated only by centuries of living at the top of the food chain. Francois, now Frank, had been an aristocrat long ago and he still carried himself like he was a marquis.

Aimee shifted, the embroidered silk of her dress rustling around her. Frank had wanted her to wear her bronze-colored hair in a chignon, but she had rebuffed him and it was brushed smooth to her waist. She liked it long and unfettered. The dress was to his liking, not hers. It was an Atelier Versace slinky dress in robin
’
s egg blue that was heavily embroidered and sported sexy fissures in the fabric that revealed her peaches and cream flesh. A diamond bracelet sparkled on one wrist and little ones glittered in her ears. She hated diamonds, but he insisted on showing his wealth off to his potential clients. The dark energy that emanated out of the diamonds made her queasy. It was if they were tainted with the violence, pain and death that surrounded their journey from the depths of the earth to the setting of a glittering piece of jewelry.

The limousine glided beneath the awe-inspiring portico to The Venetian. The many lanes were filled with cars offloading passengers and luggage. Many of the newcomers craned their heads to gaze up at the murals painted on the ceiling framed by gilded molding.

“
Gaudy Americans. You have to love it,” Frank said with a charming grin.

Aimee rolled her eyes.

“
Oh, come now, my pouty witch. What
’
s with the gloomy look? Look at all the pretty things you
’
re wearing.”

Aimee didn
’
t even respond. She
’
d rather be wearing a flowing skirt, filmy blouse, and boots. Whenever he dressed her in expensive clothes and jewels she felt like his possession and not a real person. But then again, lately she felt like she didn
’
t even know who the real version of herself was anymore. The only things that she was certain of were that she was a powerful witch and dreadfully unhappy.

The door opened and she was helped out by one of the porters. He was rudely dismissed by the guard who had slid out of the front seat. Other guards exited the black SUV that had tailed them all the way to the casino from the airport. Frank sauntered around the back of the limousine, adjusting his lapels and bow tie, smiling rakishly at some young women
ogling
him.

“
Keep track of those lovely young things,” he said to one of the guards.

The man nodded and melded into the crowd of people.

Aimee closed her eyes for a second, composing herself. She didn
’
t want to think about what might happen to the clutch of chattering girls that were blatantly giving Frank come-hither looks.

Tucking his hand under her elbow, Frank urged Aimee
through
the front doors into the massive lobby of The Venetian. The arched ceiling covered in murals, the intricate pillars, and gleaming marble floors were luxurious and did an excellent job of mimicking the opulence of the architecture of the Northern Italian city. To Aimee
’
s amusement, she heard some Italians talking excitedly to one another as they snapped photos.

Striding down the corridor, Frank carried himself like the aristocrat he had once been. He was immensely charming and good-looking. At one point in her life, she couldn
’
t look at him without feeling like she was the luckiest woman in the world. Now she had to force herself not to recoil from his touch. The high heels she wore perfectly matched her dress, but were so tall she had to clutch his arm to keep her balance. She longed for one of her many pairs of boots. The thought of wearing her cowboy boots with the designer gown made her smirk with wicked mirth.

“
There
’
s that beautiful smile, my little witch,” Frank said, misreading her expression. “I love it when you smile.”

“
There hasn
’
t been much to smile about,” she answered truthfully.

“
You
’
re homesick. I understand that. We
’
ll be home soon.”

Aimee sighed, knowing that Frank would never understand the true reason for her unhappiness.

“
Now, remember
:
this is a new client, Aimee, so I may need you to do a little showing off. Nothing flashy. We
’
re meeting in public. Just a little something-something to make him take notice that I do not do any false advertising.”

“
I think I can manage,” Aimee answered, touching her small clutch with one hand. Inside were three protein bars. Magic drained her significantly and protein helped build her back up. She had tried carbohydrates and sugar, but the crash that followed drained her again.

“
Smart girl. Always thinking ahead.” He brushed the back of his hand against her che
e
k, the blue stone in his ring very cold against her skin. She shivered at the touch. The ring had a very deep, dangerous enchantment in it, but Frank wasn
’
t afraid of anything.

Maneuvering through the casino, Frank
’
s guards escorted them to one of the swanky lounges. Aimee reinforced her mental shields. Sometimes people could detect that she was something more than human and she wanted to make sure that she looked like nothing more than Frank
’
s arm candy. Aimee was aware of the many eyes following them as they strolled through the opulent casino. She often wondered why Frank didn
’
t tone it down when i
n
public, but then she
’
d remember how much he loved an audience. In some ways he was a showman at heart.

“
Arnost has a lot of connections in Eastern Europe. A partnership of sorts between us would be incredibly beneficial, so let
’
s try to not be a sulky witch.” Frank stopped, wrapped an arm around her, and leaned toward her. His black eyes were penetrating behind his red-tinted glasses. “I know I
’
ve been working you pretty hard lately, but you
’
re my special girl. A rare jewel of greatest regard. You know that, right?” His most charming smile graced his sensuous lips. He gave her waist a little squeeze. “Let me see that little snarky smile again.”

Aimee lifted her eyes in exasperation, but slid a false grin onto her lips.

“
Ah, there it is.” Frank
’
s fingers traced the edge of her chin. “You
’
re so beautiful when you smile.”

“
You
’
re a flatterer,” Aimee said dismissively.

“
True, but I
’
m a sincere flatterer.” Frank kissed her cheek, then resumed his trek to the lounge.

The guards kept a discreet distance, but Aimee was annoyed by their presence. They were not only with Frank to protect him, but also to keep her from potentially fleeing. The vampire who claimed ownership of her was well aware of her recent discontent and what she was capable of doing when pushed. He also knew she was bound by blood to him and could not leave him if she tried. Yet, he was cautious when it came to his possessions and the guards were insurance against possibly losing her.

The lounge had low
lighting and discreet booths. The conversations were low murmurs around her and the scent of alcohol waft
ing
through the air
mingl
ed
with cigarette smoke, perfumes, colognes, and sweat. Though Aimee never considered herself a raving beauty, the eyes of many of the men and a few of the women followed her, and she became acutely aware of the patches of her bare skin visible through the thin fabric of her dress. Her face flushed when she realized Frank had probably made her wear the dress not only to show off her physique, but also to add to her discomfort. He loved toying with her.

“
Arnost, so good to see you!”

Frank enthusiastically greeted the gloomy-looking man with dusky skin, gray eyes, and dark hair cut into a shaggy yet stylish hairdo. Dressed in a fine suit and silk burgundy shirt without a tie, Arnost didn
’
t rise to his feet, but merely flicked his fingers toward the other side of the booth. Beside Arnost, a sallow-looking man with pale blue eyes watched Aimee thoughtfully. A swift scan revealed he was a human infused with vampire blood. For a second she had feared he was a black witch, but though he had the potential, it appeared to be unrealized.

“
You
’
re a little early,” Arnost noted with satisfaction. His accent wasn
’
t very heavy, but it held a hint of menace.

“
I like showing my clients that I appreciate their time,” Frank answered smoothly. He slid into the booth after Aimee.

The guards took their positions nearby
,
watching Arnost
’
s guards that were trying hard to look like mere tourists and failing.

Arnost rubbed his chin lightly, scrutinizing Frank. “You
’
re not much different from the last time I saw you. Still putting on airs, still arrogant, still far too pretty. Someone should have messed up your face a little more before you died.”

Frank mockingly frowned. “I admit to being far too pretty, but arrogant? Is it arrogant to be confident in my own gloriousness?”

“
You
’
re still a little shit, I see.” Arnost shook his head, smirking.

“
Not so little if you
’
re coming to me for your particular needs,” Frank said, his jovial tone taking on a cutting
edge
.

“
Fucking Nazis nearly wiped them out. The Black Forest was once crawling with the furry bastards.” Arnost swallowed his drink in one gulp and motion
ed to the waiter for another
. “They
’
re even more difficult to come by in our area since the Bosnian War. We lost quite a few packs in the conflict.”

“
Werewolf blood does have that nice little kick, doesn
’
t it? And the aftereffects, heightened senses, additional strength, are worth the trouble it takes to capture them and keep them chained, huh?” Frank crossed his legs and smiled coyly. “It
’
s a difficult addiction to kick.”

“
My she-bitch died last month,” Arnost said gloomily. He stared into his empty drink, slapping the glass back and forth between his hands.

“
My condolences,” Frank said glibly. “I
’
m sure she died...gruesomely.”

“
Suicide. They don
’
t do well away from their pack. Which is why I
’
m looking for not just a female, but an alpha to be at her side. I
’
ll have to maim him, of course, but it may keep her alive longer.” Arnost set the glass aside. “The furry shits are better at hiding now. None of my European sources can find where they relocated.”