Into the Spotlight (16 page)

Malcolm was right.

The gold dress got attention. The shimmering nylon hugged her curves with only the gold-filigreed leaves covering the sensitive areas. A split down her right leg left it bare and gleaming under the soft overhead lighting. The gold and diamond-encrusted heels showed off her well-toned calf muscles.

Her hair was down, threads of gold wrapped in the pale flax and her makeup was simple, accented with gold tones. Next to her right eye, she’d added a small black symbol reminiscent of the Markham crest. She loved the style even if she hadn’t understood the meaning. Malcolm’s wholly possessive and approving grin upon seeing it left her tingling.

Gazes followed their passage through the grand lobby toward a double-wide staircase guarded by a velvet rope. The attendant didn’t ask for their identification or their intentions, he simply shifted the rope and allowed them entrance.

Malcolm’s hand glided to her elbow, offering support for the climb. She loved the gesture, particularly since she danced in higher heels on more steeply inclined steps.

On the concierge level, the crowd dressed in a more refined manner, dripping with copious amounts of gems. No one stopped them, but every gaze turned toward them, measuring their wealth. A ripple of conversation followed in their wake.

More than one voice echoed “Markham” with awe.

“Is there something about your reputation you want to mention to me?” Jeannie murmured. Her lips barely moved as the crowd parted before them. More than one man noticed her and smiled. She gave them all a polite nod, but otherwise ignored them. None possessed the flaming blue eyes of her escort.

“Hmm.” Malcolm nodded politely to one woman who lifted her hand in eager wave. Jeannie tried not to snarl viciously when the woman’s enthusiastic smile faltered at the bored disinterest in his expression. She tightened her hand on his arm.

Possessiveness flared.

“I may have developed something of a legend over the last few years, but to discuss such would seem arrogant.”

Jeannie laughed. The sound jerked more male attention in their direction. Gazes Malcolm met and held until they looked away.

Pleasure flowered inside her belly. She wasn’t the only one feeling possessive.

“If I forget to tell you later,” Jeannie murmured, aware of the ornate double oak doors looming ahead, “I’ve had a really good time.”

He paused in front of the doors, turned and laid his hands on her hips and tilted his head down to rest forehead to forehead with her. “So have I, my love. So have I.”

Jeannie wasn’t expecting the kiss, but the absolute tenderness with which he massaged her lips left her sighing. One hand against his chest, they stood, frozen in the moment, a moment spoiled only by the great doors opening.

“Lord Markham arrives!”

The great half-round table sported legs of heavy, well-styled cherry. Red velvet decorated the top, and a dealer stood at a dip in the table, a new shoe of cards waiting expectantly. The tangible quiet in the room wrapped around Malcolm. Jeannie fell silent at his side. He tucked her closer and walked toward the waiting table.

Few looked up from their cards, but he was aware of the watchfulness rippling ahead of them. From across the room, the messenger entered. He wasn’t surprised that she would play for the Overseers tonight. She dressed in black satin bandages, revealing acres of creamy skin. The striping continued on her face, highlighted by a black mask painted over her eyes.

Jeannie stilled next to him. “That’s Fairuk.”

Fairuk, the lead dancer Jeannie replaced. His guard went up. Why would they say she was free if she still served the Overseers?
Or is it that she was just free of her duties in the lounge once Jeannie came along?

Whatever the reason, he couldn’t be concerned about the other woman.

Malcolm covered Jeannie’s hand on his arm with his own and took his gaze off Fairuk to tug Jeannie’s attention to him. The stark contrast of inky dark and shimmering gold was not lost on him. “It’s going to be fine.”

Trust glimmered in her green eyes, trust that grew into a forest of confidence. His chest puffed out. He would not fail her.

“Lord Markham, we are pleased at your attendance.” Fairuk’s eerie greeting echoed with foreign power. The darkness swirling inside her gaze failed to penetrate the fierce joy pumping in his heart.

Kissing Jeannie lightly once more, he focused his attention on the possessed messenger and inclined his head. They were equals in this room. Two players, two gamblers settling a wager. “I am pleased to have been so invited.”

Hands of cards folded across the room, conversations shushed and the air of expectancy swelled.

This game held the room’s attention.

Malcolm and Fairuk took their places angled to the dealer, empty seats between them. The opponents could see each other and the dealer clearly. Jeannie placed herself to Malcolm’s right. She stood, one hand on her hip, her chin up, and her smile easy and beguiling. Malcolm forced himself to not stare at her. Every other eye in the room was not so discreet.

Nymphs drew the eye. Compelling the audience to watch them, to see them, and soon, they would forget about anything but her. Her breathing would fascinate, her tongue slipping out to moisten her lips would burn into their minds, her small white teeth biting at her upper lip would captivate.

Even Fairuk seemed focused on the golden goddess at his side. Malcolm tapped the table, indicating he was ready to begin. Fairuk tapped a few seconds later, but Malcolm counted three full seconds between his tap and her reaction.

Yes.

The gold dress was the perfect choice.

The dealer cleared her throat. “The game is modified Hold’em played with Fizban rules.”

A collective gasp went up around the room. Malcolm expected as much. He heard Jeannie’s sharp inhale, but didn’t allow himself to touch or comfort her. She would need to hold onto her belief in him. He savored the trust shimmering in her eyes the last time he gazed into them.

A stack of one hundred platinum- and gold-colored chips slid across the table to each player.

“The games will continue until one player is left bankrupt. You cannot buy more chips. You cannot fold. Every hand must be played to conclusion.”

Malcolm nodded, his attention focused on Fairuk. The messenger tore her gaze away from Jeannie to accept the chips.

Four seconds to respond that time.

“We begin.” The dealer passed two cards, face down, to each player. “The buy in begins at one platinum.”

Malcolm picked up the platinum without looking and flicked it to the center of the table. Four seconds later a second chip joined it. He didn’t look at the cards.

The dealer nodded and lay down three cards. “The three of swords, ace of cups and page of hearts. Fairuk plays.”

The messenger had to pull her gaze from Jeannie to look at her cards. She reached for another platinum and it landed with a clink against the others.

“Play to Lord Markham. One platinum.”

Malcolm didn’t look at his cards, he simply flicked the platinum out to play.

“The house deals.”

The Fool joined the first three followed by The Tower.

Malcolm smiled slightly. He could taste the hunt.

“Both players lose as the Tower plays this full moon as the wild card.” The chips on the table vanished into the dealer’s stack. Murmurs tripped across the room. Fizban rules varied, the value of a card determined only by the time, the day and the phase of the moon.

“Buy in is one platinum,” the dealer announced, clearing away the cards and preparing to deal the next hand.

Malcolm anted up the required platinum.

“One-minute break for a new shoe.”

An hour later, Malcolm was ahead by one game, but his stack of platinum was slightly less than Fairuk’s. Malcolm twisted in the chair and wrapped an arm around Jeannie’s waist, tugging her into his lap. Her lips parted as surprise stole across her expression, and he lunged in for a long, seeking kiss.

The tension coiling in her muscles loosened, and Malcolm smiled. Her bottom snugged against his lap, creating a pleasurable ache. “How are you doing?”

“Wonderful,” Jeannie whispered, her nervous heart fluttering madly betrayed the lie, but the trust in her green eyes burned unwaveringly.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Only if you are.”

“Water-infused tonic,” Malcolm ordered the waitress hovering behind him. The figure nodded and retreated. “Enjoying the game?”

“I have no idea what’s going on. The rules keep changing. How do you keep up?”

Malcolm shrugged. “It’s the unpredictability of it that excites.” He slid his hand up the nape of her neck, playing with the flaxen strands. With little urging, her mouth returned to his, open for sampling. He teased her tongue, eyes opening to watch Fairuk through the strands of Jeannie’s hair.

The messenger’s eyes glazed as she stared at them. Malcolm smiled into the kiss, sliding his free hand up the flat of Jeannie’s stomach to stroke the underside of one breast. Fairuk started in her chair and satisfaction swelled inside his chest. The messenger could be distracted.

“The game begins.”

With a show of great reluctance, Malcolm drew out Jeannie’s lower lip, suckling before releasing her and helping her stand. Her eyes were dazed and she rested a hand on his shoulder, as though needing it for balance.

He flicked out the platinum chip when called and studied the messenger’s posture. She was canted forward, swaying ever so slightly and her tongue swiping at her lower lip, as though trying to capture an elusive flavor.

Malcolm’s fangs elongated. The hunt was on.

Two hours and thirty hands of poker later, the other guests surrounded the table in a hush of whispered voices. The other tables were silent, empty. Small bets were being played out for each hand. Jeannie’s hand remained firm on his arm as the next play took the table.

“All in,” Malcolm murmured, responding to Fairuk’s gambit. The messenger practically vibrated with purrs of satisfaction.

“All chips are in play,” the dealer announced and laid down the final two cards. Three of swords, a cups and a High Priestess lay on the table.

Fairuk flipped her cards displaying the Tower and the Fool. A macabre grin split her lips, her hungry gaze stalking Malcolm.

“The Fool,” the dealer announced, “is no longer wild.”

The words pierced Fairuk’s satisfaction. Her gaze fractured, splitting between the cards, Malcolm and the dealer.

“At twelve-oh-one a.m., the moon entered gibbous, reducing the Fool’s power and splitting it with the Tower. Lord Markham. Your cards.”

Malcolm flipped the first card.

“The Hierophant trumps the Fool, setting him on a new path.”

And the second.

“The Wheel of Fortune destroys the Tower, taking the bounty for his own. Game to Lord Markham.”

“Oh my God!” Jeannie’s startled delight echoed around the room. Hands came together, churning out polite applause that grew in volume and intensity.

Malcolm rose as the dealer pushed the stack of chips toward him.

The Overseers abandoned their possession of Fairuk, leaving her swaying on her feet, expression dazed.

The game was won.

“You did it!” Jeannie squealed and threw her arms around him. He caught her close and held her, his gaze on Fairuk.

“You have taken the table, Lord Markham. The choice is yours.”

Malcolm grinned.

“Pandora, Mistress of the Midnight Mystery Lounge’s Circus of the Sinister.”

“It will be done.”

Elation fountained inside his soul and he looked down at his love, shimmering in his arms. “You’re free.”

Chapter Fourteen

“So that’s it?” Frederick stood on the far side of the table, back turned to Malcolm. His arms were folded and his chin tucked down. The days-long coma still reflected in the pallor of his skin, but he was already filling back out on a diet of healthy blood and rest.

“That’s it. You’ll have a century to get it together. You’ll have to follow their rules, toe the line and show respect. But you’ll have your own apartments, some time off and a measure of freedom provided you don’t screw it up.” Malcolm knew the words sounded harsh. He wasn’t thrilled with the decision. But if protecting his cousin couldn’t help him, maybe this would.

The younger vampire remained silent for so long, Malcolm prepared for the backlash. But Frederick surprised him. “Thank you for coming to help.”

It was a first.

“You’re welcome.” Malcolm remained cautious.

Frederick turned, his lips twisted into a bittersweet smile. “I get it, cousin, I do. I’m a colossal fuck up. I spoke to Mother this morning. Thank you for not telling her about the opium. Thank you for keeping her from coming out here.”

Tipping his head, he studied the younger man. “You mean that?”

“I do. I had a lot of time to think in that coma.” Frederick shuddered. “I was an idiot. I’m tired of being an idiot. And really, how hard can working in a casino be? So, wanna tell me about the lady you met?”