Playing Against Type: Soulgirls, Book 4 (10 page)

Not a shape shifter. They hadn’t replaced her. But something remained remarkably off. “You had every right to be annoyed with me,” Finn answered, buying some time. Contrary to his earlier attitude, he understood when he went too far at the café. Her continued safety limited the amount of truth he could share.
But she’s not safe right now, is she?
The urge to sweep his hand over the magic clinging to her made his palms itch.

“True. But we have made up from our disagreement, right?” She ran her hand down the line of buttons on his shirt. Even that casual contact felt oily—as though something dark and dank clung to the shivers of awareness. Attraction wasn’t new to him, but he really didn’t know this woman.

“Yes,” he agreed. Maybe she would have been fine if not for running into him. Maybe if he’d left well enough alone…
She wasn’t bespelled earlier. She wasn’t tethered to the casino. She walked in the sun, free and clear. No, this happened after we came back…
After he’d upset her.

And that pissed him off.

“So pay up.” She folded her arms and watched him.

“Fair enough, I’ll play.”
And who am I playing with?
It wasn’t his imagination; someone else stared out at him from behind the gold flecks in her eyes. Someone who didn’t belong there.
Possession?
The fire in his belly cooled to icy rage. “I owe you two lies and a truth…”

“No.” She shook her head, and laughed. “Two truths and a lie. Mine was two lies and a truth.”

“Ahh.” Okay, so her memory was intact. “My bad.” He slipped a coin into the slot and pulled the arm on the machine. “Two truths and a lie. The casino is controlled by supernatural beings. No one leaves here the same. And I would kill for a cigar.”

“That’s—disgustingly easy and you were supposed to give me truths and lies about you—not the casino.” A glimmer of her earlier personality surfaced. “I call foul.”

“Oh? I didn’t say it had to be about me.” He played another coin. “Which one is the lie?”

“That you want a cigar.” Her voice changed, deepening a full octave.

Of course…
“Good evening, Connor. Long time.” He recognized the voice, the faint hint of an accent.

“Finn. I thought we should talk.” The deep masculine tone coming out of Pepper’s mouth ranked among his top five most disturbing interactions—and that included wading through Don Gianni’s garbage bin during the Angel Station investigation.

“You really thought possessing this girl was the way to do it?” He gave the demon a long look. Under the neon lights and flashing machines, he could see the burn flaming inside the golden flecks transforming Pepper’s hazel eyes to flaming black.
 

“You like her. You planned to meet her. It proved useful.”

“Fine. Spit it out and then get the hell out of her. She doesn’t need to be exposed to you any longer than necessary.” Demon possession wasn’t quite spell work. He could break it—but not while guaranteeing Pepper’s safety. A gamble on the Overseer’s part.

“Why don’t we take this to a more private venue? Your young lady has reservations at the Midnight Mystery Lounge.” Connor didn’t wait for his response. He slid off the stool and strolled away, swaying Pepper’s hips. Grabbing the bucket, Finn was left with no choice but to follow.

“Why do you want to go to the theatre?” The shows were often captivating. He’d enjoyed Pandora’s performances over the years, but like everything else in the Arcana Royale—the shine hid the darker, insidious secrets. The only true coin was power and the Overseers hoarded it carefully, like ancient dragons guarding their lair.

“I don’t, but Pepper wanted to see the show. I simply changed it to a private table.”

Finn paused just inside the double doors to the theatre seating. The Midnight Mystery Lounge was laid out in tiers, with dining booths and tables occupying every nook and cranny. Some were set close together, others were curved booths, affording privacy to the diners. The low lighting added to the intimacy of the atmosphere and the curtained stage remained dark. The posters outside promised a show with white tigers—shifters, most likely—and the dancing marionettes who lived in servitude to the lounge.

Ahead, Connor descended the steps to a roped off area. He wore Pepper like a skin suit and it was really pissing Finn off. He should have gotten rid of her the night before when she showed up with her ridiculous story. Dismissed her and sent her on her way. She could be enjoying herself at the romance convention or playing on the slot machines—not serving as a pawn in a game she knew nothing about.

Sliding into a red chair with a rounded back, Connor crossed Pepper’s legs and studied her shoes. He hadn’t really paid attention to the glittery pair beforehand. They shimmered, even in the low light.

Dropping into the chair opposite, Finn set the bucket of winnings down and eyed the demon. “We’re here. Talk.”

“You really have very little culture or manners, Finn. I would have thought your mother raised you better.”

Uninterested in the demon’s taunts, Finn bit back a retort as a succubus sidled up to the table. “Pinot, bring the bottle, and two glasses.” Connor used Pepper’s voice and waved the waitress off.

A dull ache thudded behind his right eye. “Are we done with the farce yet?”

“Why are you here, Finn?” Apparently not. Connor turned a coin over and over with Pepper’s fingers, rolling it across the back of her knuckles and then to her palm.

“You know why I’m here. I know you know why I’m here.” Two could play his game. Of all the lessons his mother taught him, avoiding direct answers was the most useful.

“Thank you for taking care of Fairuk. She was skilled at avoiding us.” Too easy and pat an answer—they couldn’t control her, but they’d known where she was.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He ignored the wine when the succubus delivered it. Ignored her and her trailing of invitational dust. Like others of her kind, she couldn’t help her overwrought sexuality, but he wasn’t interested.

“Of course you don’t.” Connor claimed one of the wine glasses. “I have a proposal for you.”

“As long as you’re in there, the only thing you can offer me is getting the hell out of her and leaving her alone. She’s human—even for you, this is off limits. One would think you would respect your own rules.” His temper frayed.

“So what would you give me to release her?” The demonic Overseer swirled the wine in the glass.

“What do you want?” The game grew tiresome. The rules were designed to protect the Overseers as much as the humans who wandered in and out. The casino’s shields turned away the obvious normals, but even they had to open their doors occasionally. Sometimes the cunning could discover it and sometimes they were used as a lure—to bring in bigger game.

Pepper was the lure.

Finn was the bigger game.

The son of a bitch had a job for him.

“Enjoy your stay, Finn Mikelson, son of Marguerite. We have much to discuss. Consider this my only gesture of good will.” A crackle of static electricity dimmed the lights for a moment and Pepper blinked. “Finn?”

Reaching over, he covered her hand with his. “Right here. Looks like the show is about to start.”

In more ways than one…

She couldn’t stop trembling. Her insides alternated between ice and heat. Finn never let go of her hand and it helped her to cover the quaking—but when had they arrived at the theatre? She’d knocked on his door, invited him down to meet her at the slots, and then… Not even the smoke and music rising from the stage while the tiger stalked the maiden in the pond eased the quivers in her stomach.

Pepper snuck a look at the glittering watch she wore as a bracelet.

Three hours?
Three hours since she left her room. She didn’t lose time—except when she went into the dreamless gray of the curse. But they took the curse off her. Her thoughts whirled. When had Finn arrived downstairs? What did they do in the last three hours? She remembered the reservations. She wanted to see the girls—even if they performed on the stage and she sat in the audience. She wanted to see them again. Finn appeared relaxed, but every time she glanced at him he stared at her.

The lighting didn’t let her read his expression well. When the tigers swarmed out across the stage, the black light making their white fur glow, his hand tensed on hers. She’d ridden one of those tigers, as the other dancers were doing now, and they were so sweet. Stroking a thumb against the back of his hand offered her a little comfort. They only had wine to drink, so she sipped it cautiously. Unfortunately, the burnt aftertaste was worse than the tea Heidi sent for her.

Intermission arrived and the lights brightened. “You okay?” Finn rose from his seat and circled the table to claim the chair next to her, never letting go of her hand once.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “The show is amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He studied her. “You don’t seem to be enjoying it, though.”

“I think I’m hungry.” The idea of food actually made her queasy.
A by-product of the cancer?
It had been decades since she’d had to live with her death sentence, but her most persistent symptoms had been exhaustion, insomnia and trouble digesting her food. It made travel uncomfortable, if not impossible. Only her own stubborn desire to
do
something with her life before she died had kept her going.

“Then let’s get you some food. Do you want to go up to the restau—?” The waitress returned and Finn sighed.

“We can eat here.” She still wanted to watch the rest of the show and, at least while they performed, Pepper didn’t have to have a conversation. He didn’t act as if anything were wrong, but who knew what she said in the last few hours? In fact, his hand was very comfortable in hers.

Too comfortable.

Heat scalded her cheeks and she considered a graceful way to extract her hand.

“Well if you insist on staying, would you like to split a tray of appetizers?” He sounded odd, almost impatient.

“That’s fine…oh!” She stopped the waitress before she could leave. “Could I get some water? I really don’t like the wine.” Or the lingering taste of charcoal in her mouth. She’d brushed her teeth before leaving the room, so it didn’t make sense. But then what did?

“Pepper.” Finn’s breath brushed her cheek, and her insides did a little flip. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

No, I think I’m going crazy. Could you possibly leave the Royale so I can go back to being cursed and safe?
“I think so. Am I not acting like I am?”
Please say I’ve been fine. Please say I’ve been fine.

He brushed his thumb over her wrist and her already erratic pulse picked up speed. Heated awareness shot through her, a flash fire boiling her blood.

“Are you acting like you’re okay?” His eyes were dark, hooded and mysterious—even up close. She didn’t know where to look.

“No…maybe…what was the question?” Anticipation shivered through her. She thought he would lean back, laugh off her brainless comment or even tease her. She was wrong. The distance between them closed completely and he kissed her.

It started as a gentle brush of his lips across hers. He trailed his free hand up her neck, and fisted it into her hair. The tempting taste of a kiss grew firm and his tongue nudged her lips apart. Her already fuzzy brain shut down. Sensation rushed through her, exploding like so many fireworks.
It’s been so long…
Too long since a man had kissed her and none had ever kissed her like this.

She used to laugh at cartoons with their animated characters falling head over heels…hearts circling their heads—or worse, the romance novels where the heroine swooned and forgot everything about herself. But damn, Finn could kiss. She forgot the theatre, the desire for water, for food, even for breath. She let go of his hand and grabbed his shirt.

A plate clinking against the table rattled through her awareness and Finn leaned his head back. The waitress returned with their order, and a knowing smile. She breezed away and Pepper shuddered with reaction…to a kiss. Mind blowing passion lit her skin on fire.
 

“Better?” Finn murmured.

Her tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth. A little gargle came out and his lips curved into the most delicious smile. He nudged the water glass toward her and stretched an arm across the back of her chair.

He stroked his fingers along her shoulder in an action that proved both soothing and electrifying as a constant reminder of her reaction to him.

Scooping up the glass, the house lights dimming, and the music rising excused her from having to answer his question.
Thank God. Where the hell did that come from?
She barely saw the dancers, replaying the kiss over and over in her mind. Finn was handsome, kind and generous. But she hadn’t been considering more lustful activities. Frankly, all she’d thought about was finishing the task so she could return to the stage.

Shivers raced over her skin and Finn pulled her a little closer, sharing his heat. Her mind wasn’t on returning to the stage. All she could think about was the way he touched her and hope that he’d kiss her again.

I’m in big trouble. Huge…huge…trouble.

How she made it through the rest of the show, she had no idea. Thankfully, she knew the story well enough for it not to matter. She ate the food Finn offered, drained her water, and completely avoided the wine. By the time the audience rose to their feet to applaud Anthony, Roseâtre and the rest of the girls, Pepper quaked with nerves. Would he take her up to her room and pick up where that kiss left off?