Sin City Collectors Boxed Set: Aces Wild, Ante Up, All in Read online

  But even the most powerful supes didn’t mess lightly with hellhounds.

  No one but jealous harpies and one angsty female Collector, who went by the name of Nevada Hamilton.

  Jake scrubbed a hand over his tired face. “This is going to be majorly messed up.” Nobody was there to hear his plea, but maybe somehow the universe would help him out anyway. “Please, please, let that woman be somehow changed.”

  “No way!” Neve slammed the door in Jake Troubadour’s face. “This is so not happening. I refuse to believe they would pair us up.”

  “This is in fact happening,” Jake replied through the thin wooden barrier. “And I don’t like it any more than you do. If they’d asked me who I wanted as my first partner, I would’ve picked Zelda.”

  “Zelda is a thousand years old, missing three fingers and her hearing in both ears,” Neve called through the door.

  “Yep,” Jake countered, “and she’d follow my lead with no questions so this Collection could be finished yesterday.”

  “Your lead?” Neve whipped the door open, her chest heaving in indignation. She couldn’t help it. Seeing Jake at the door had been a shock—and she was incredibly hard to surprise. “This is my assignment. You were added to”—Neve searched for a reason that didn’t involve talking about failed attempts at Collecting vampires—“to guard the door while I go in. Yes, your job is guard dog for this Collection, something we all know you have firsthand experience with.”

  Jake’s face remained impassive as he pointedly ignored her dig and leaned against the doorframe, lacing his arms across his powerful chest, stretching the navy blue fabric as far as it could go. “Yeah, I don’t think so. This is my assignment. You were added to the bottom of my card like an addendum.”

  Neve bit her lip. Hard.

  One of her tiny incisors poked into the soft flesh of her bottom lip, a few drops of blood immediately welling there. She couldn’t risk losing control right now, so she had to rein it in. No silver tears in front of Jake or she’d never hear the end of it. She licked her lip, dispersing the fresh crimson, before she said, “This is so extremely typical of you, Macho Man, but I have a newsflash. The reason you’re tagging along on my Collection, is that this vampire”—she had to do some quick thinking—“may be…possibly…related to me. And you know there’s a rule about Collecting family members.” Was there? Neve had no idea. But she was guessing the great Jake Troubadour didn’t know either. “So if I know this vamp, that’s where you come in. Until then, you get to wait in the car.”

  Jake didn’t appear at all fazed by her rant. “I don’t drive a car, Neve. I ride a motorcycle, remember? It kind of resembles the one you trashed three years ago, but I had this one customized to protect against future dhampir attacks.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Neve asked, placing her hands on her hips. “Car, bike, trike? It doesn’t matter. You’re still staying parked outside. And, if you remember correctly, I trashed that bike after you threw me out of your bar for no reason at all. You had it coming.” She drummed her fingers on her hips.

  “No reason?” he replied incredulously. “I threw you out because you picked three fights.” He lifted his forearm and held up three fingers. “You also broke a table, seven barstools, and enough glassware that I had to send Diesel to the store to buy paper cups so we could serve our patrons for the rest of the night. And the last fight you picked was with a rutting fire demon. I did you a favor.”

  Neve remembered only bits and pieces of that night.

  It was still hazy to this day. But tossing her out was not all Jake had done. That was certainly a fact. She hadn’t gone home to her own bed that night. Instead, she’d woken up in his. “Did the favor you so graciously bestowed on me include a rutting hellhound? Because I don’t think I signed up for that particular prize when I chose to kick the shit out of that fire demon.”

  Jake dropped his arms and made a move to step forward, then seemed to rethink it and stayed rooted in place. He really was a giant of a man. Neve had to crane her neck to look up at him, and it irritated her. He stood at least a foot taller than she was, making him around six-foot-six.

  That was a lot of hellhound.

  His face fell as he reacted to her slight. “Nevada”—his voice was calm, almost like he was trying to soothe a prickly child—“we’ve been over this. When I closed down the bar that night and found you passed out by the dumpster, with my motorcycle scattered in pieces around you, I took you to my house in the back of Diesel’s truck. But only because I couldn’t wake you up. I had no other choice.”

  Neve glanced down at her boots, not wanting Jake to see her blush as she recalled the morning after. And when she blushed, it was all red, all the time. “I’m not upset you took me home,” she mumbled. After all, she was willing to admit it had been a rough night. “I’m still upset about the…other stuff. The stuff that happened in the morning…when I still wasn’t myself.”

  Other stuff meaning hot, ridiculous sex throughout the morning and into the early evening.

  Jake coughed, obviously remembering. Nevada waited for him to gather himself as he banged his fist against his chest. “I know you’re still upset about that.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve been over this. I told you that night, and I’ll tell you again, I had no idea you ‘weren’t yourself.’ You came into my bed, remember? It wasn’t the other way around.” He shoved his hands behind his back. “Look, we haven’t seen each other in three years, and rehashing all this now, to me, is pointless. Let’s call it a truce for this one Collection, and once it’s done, we can both go our separate ways. Anything you want. I don’t want to dust up any more bad memories. It wasn’t my intent when I came here today.”

  “Dust up bad memories?” Neve balked. “There’s no dust on them, Troubadour. They are as clean and fresh as the day they happened. But I’m in total agreement with you. Let’s just get this thing over with so we don’t have to spend any more time together than necessary.” She forced her voice to stay nice and even.

  Nevada didn’t want to admit it, but seeing Jake in the flesh after all these years had given her an unexpected jolt.

  He stood there, seemingly unfazed by her, alluring as ever: tall, muscular, broad shoulders, nicely cropped dark hair, clear gray eyes, and he held himself with just the right amount of menace. All those things made him irresistible to just about everyone who stumbled across his path. But these days Neve was sober, and she trained daily. She was strong in both body and mind. And if the notorious lothario tried to make a move on her, she’d be ready. If she could take down a sexed-up fire demon when she was high as a kite, she could take down this hellhound when she was fit and clean. It didn’t matter he was bigger than the demon by a good foot or two. All it would take was a few calculated punches in just the right places.

  Neve grinned just thinking about it.

  “Fine, we get this done quickly.” Jake’s jaw muscle jumped. “I’ll pick you up outside at dusk. The card says we’re supposed to head to the Cosmopolitan.”

  “I know,” Neve said. “I received the very same card.” She edged him out of her doorway by easing the door closed. When he was gone, she exhaled and rested her forehead against the cool door. Why did it have to be Jake Troubadour? It could’ve literally been anyone. There were several hundred Collectors in this town.

  Louie was going to get an earful for this.

  Jake exited the hotel where Neve lived using the stairs. He needed to burn off their encounter, and what better way than to jog down thirty flights? His memories of their shared night together had no dust on them either. The second he’d read Neve’s name on his card, he’d recalled every single searing detail. Seeing her now had only heightened all the feelings he’d tried so desperately to keep buried.

  That fateful day, a little over three years ago, Nevada Hamilton had scorched herself into his mind like a mark left from a hot branding iron. He’d found that, over time, the imprint she’d made had finally receded
from a throbbing pain to a dull ache.

  But seeing her now had ramped it up to a fire-breathing level, and Jake desperately had to force the dial to stay on “dull ache,” because the “hot lava” level was going to burn him all over again.

  He shook his head, trying to clear it as he jogged down a few more flights, but it was no use. The replay of their encounter ran over and over again in his mind, relentlessly tormenting him. Thinking about Neve waking up all those years ago, climbing into his bed, her lopsided smile, her fierce independence, her brilliant blue eyes, her long chestnut hair fanning out over his abdomen, her unbelievable body—and he wanted to lose himself all over again. In three years he had yet to find another woman who turned him on so fully. Today had been no different. She’d stood there in front of him, all full of piss and vinegar, and she was still the most beautiful, complex creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

  And she loathed him.

  Jake rounded the last few steps on his way toward the door, not even the least bit winded. The only solace he’d found after their encounter was that he’d accepted her anger and had taken the blame, even though he’d honestly never understood where her rage and sudden change of heart had come from.

  But from that day forward she’d been hell-bent on making him suffer.

  And suffer he had.

  Jake’s bike was magnificent, but Neve wasn’t going to tell him that. He eased up to the curb in front of the Blue Moon Casino on a souped-up MV Agusta, one of the hottest bikes on the road. And, by the looks of it, one of the only models sturdy enough to support his weight.

  Gods, that man was huge.

  Neve eyed the bike with interest as he idled. It was matte black and rugged, embellished with enough chrome to make it sing. She swallowed hard and turned her gaze down the street. The Cosmopolitan was only a few miles from here. Maybe she should hoof it instead.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Jake said, preempting her move. “We’re getting this Collection done and you riding on this bike saves time. This assignment should be an easy snatch-and-grab, but we won’t know until we do some basic surveillance. I want this tied up tonight, just like we agreed.”

  Most Collections ran smoothly, but they worked better if the Collector was stronger than the supe they were nabbing. The SCC hired only the very best and brightest, but some supes put up quite a fight, including vamps, which was why Neve had donned her battle gear tonight. She wore leather from head to toe, which enabled her to conceal several pointy objects. A bullet wouldn’t do anything to an old vamp, but a silver-pronged arrow straight into the heart would.

  Neve glanced plaintively down the road once more as she reluctantly took a few steps toward the bike.

  The Blue Moon Casino, where Neve lived and spent the majority of her time, was positioned at the northern tip of the Strip. Most of the casinos up this way had died out over the years. South of Sahara Avenue, new construction had filled up every square inch of the Strip and had created one tantalizingly continuous line for tourists to easily explore.

  No one had reason to come up this far anymore.

  But the Blue Moon thrived for obvious reasons—the clientele it catered to was mostly made up of paranormals with a sprinkling of humans looking for a cheap deal. There were only a few supe-friendly places in town, and the Blue Moon Casino was one of them. Jake’s bar was another. Supes had to remain hidden from humans, mandated by law, but they found ways to work around it. Vegas made it much easier to blend in, since the absurd and avant-garde were a way of life here, which was why many supes chose to call it home.

  Interrupting her thoughts, Jake nodded toward the casino behind her. “Why do you choose to live here?”

  Surprised, Neve glanced behind her at the building and shrugged, turning back to him. “I don’t know. It’s cheap and easy?” And clean, unlike the heap she grew up in. Heartbreak Hotel, as the local supes referred to it, was situated above the Blue Moon Casino, and when Neve had first moved in, it had seemed like a castle compared to her mother’s grungy single-wide. “I get my assignments here, so I went with what worked and didn’t overthink it. I suggest you do the same.” Human tourists occupied the first five floors, supes rented the rest. The upper units had full kitchens and more than enough space to move around. Neve guessed each apartment took up three or four regular hotel rooms.

  “Hmm,” he commented. “This isn’t anything like where you lived before.”

  Neve sighed as she slung her leg over the back of the bike, choosing to hold on to the seat behind her rather than wrap her arms around his waist. That would’ve just been awkward. “How do you know where I used to live?” she asked, trying to tone down any alarm in her voice. She’d left his house that night on her own, and when he’d tried to call her, she’d avoided him like the plague until he’d finally given up.

  “Because I went there…twice”—Jake revved the bike, smoothly easing it away from the curb—“looking for you.”

  “Why would you do something stupid like that?” she sputtered. “I told you when I left I never wanted to see you again, and I believe I was crystal clear.” Her mother had never told her anyone had come to call, but it wouldn’t have mattered to Neve. The damage had already been done, and nothing Jake could’ve said would’ve undone how she’d felt about it.

  “Yeah,” he called over his shoulder, even though she could hear him perfectly, “and you expected me to listen, why? You pretty much lost your shit the last hour we were together, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Neve’s grip tightened on the back of the seat until she heard a crack. She eased up immediately, willing her nails back to normal. She wouldn’t trash this particular motorcycle…yet. “I lost my shit because when I finally woke up out of my stupor, I was in bed with you. Naked.”

  “You came to me,” he said. Neve heard the bitterness in his voice before he was able to mask it fully. “But I accept your rancor. I just wanted you to know I went to your house to make sure you were okay.” When Neve didn’t answer, Jake continued, more emotion in his voice than she’d heard before. “Neve, honestly, if I’d thought even for a nanosecond you were still under the influence of anything, I would’ve declined your offer. Believe me. I own a bar. Intoxicated, vulnerable women do not turn me on. It’s quite the opposite, actually.”

  Neve’s memory of their coupling was decidedly different than Jake’s, but after all these years she knew she wasn’t going to get that through his thick skull. Men like him never understood. They could have any woman they wanted in their bed in less than ten minutes flat without even giving it a good, solid try. Neve knew quite a few people, both men and women, who would kill to have a little under-the-covers time with Jake Troubadour.

  But when she’d come to her senses and found herself naked in his bed, she’d felt violated, and a blind fury had cascaded over her. She wasn’t going to admit it to Jake, but she had very little recollection of how she’d gotten there and had trouble remembering what happened after, but once she’d realized what had gone on between them, she’d left immediately—but to Neve’s reasoning, Jake could’ve easily denied her advances. If she had indeed come on to him, he could’ve walked her back to his couch.

  Instead, he’d taken her advances willingly, like the lothario he was, and it made her blood boil again just thinking about it.

  Neve had spent her entire existence feeling violated by everything in her life, from her addict mother, to her mother’s lowlife boyfriends, to her lack of schooling and subsequent opportunities, to being forced to steal to survive—sleeping with the notorious hellhound had been the very last straw. “Inebriated women must be your thing, Troubadour, because I hate to break it to you, but I was completely out of it until fifteen minutes before I left. I may have consented, and I might have come to you of my own free will, but it doesn’t matter, you should’ve known better.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” he said, resignation and sincerity in his voice, which surprised Neve. “I should’ve know
n, and I will continue to apologize to you, which is exactly why I tried to do it, twice in person. But since I failed miserably, you get to hear it from me right now. Nevada Hamilton, I am deeply sorry. I apologize for any part I played that made you unhappy or made you feel vulnerable.” He slowed for a stoplight, anchoring his feet firmly on the ground. “You have to believe it was never my intent to harm you or take advantage of you in any way. I would never willingly do that. Not in a thousand lifetimes. And I’m also sorry I didn’t try harder to find you. The second time I came back, your mother said you’d moved out. I asked everyone I knew, and nobody seemed to know where you went. Knowing how angry you were, I let it drop. That was my mistake.”

  “I did move out,” Neve replied. “I moved right into Louie’s basement and stayed for three months until my twenty-first birthday, when he brought me to the Blue Moon Casino, and the rest is history.”

  Jake swore so loudly several pedestrians on the Strip turned to stare at the bike. “You were living in my uncle’s basement?”

  “Don’t worry.” Neve chuckled as she repositioned her hands on the seat. “I told him if he told you, I’d steal all his money.”

  Jake shook his head as he drove, pondering their discussion. Nevada Hamilton was one of a kind, he’d give her that. He’d known Neve, who had been one of his uncle’s favorite pet projects, for two years prior to their now infamous hookup. But in that entire two years, the only time he’d ever really seen her smile was when she’d been with him that day.

  And like a fool he’d thought that meant she’d been happy with him.

  Jake wasn’t about to argue with Neve about how it all went down, as it was clear to him she was wrestling with her own demons, but he had what amounted to the scent glands of thirty bloodhounds in his nose. There was no possible way she’d been even slightly intoxicated or he would’ve known instantly.