High Stakes and Vampires (Pandora's Pride Book 2)

  High Stakes and Vampires

  Pandora’s Pride, Book 2

  Annabel Chase

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Also by Annabel Chase

  Chapter One

  “Do we really need an audience for this?” I motioned to the five onlookers assembled in the gallery of the training room of Pandora’s Pride headquarters.

  Evadne gave her razor-sharp fangs an exaggerated snap. “I perform better with an audience.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I mumbled. Evadne struck me as someone with mirrored walls and ceilings in her bedroom.

  We faced each other on the mat in the center of the room. Evadne had challenged me to a competition and, because I was the stubborn child of Quinn Wendell, I’d accepted. Never mind that I was a half mage mountain guide and Evadne was an experienced supernatural agent with the rare distinction of being part vampire, fae, and werewolf.

  “What are the rules?” Liam called from the safety of the gallery. The werevamp had been looking forward to this moment more than anyone, except he was under the misguided impression that there’d be a vat of Jell-O and nudity involved.

  “When have you ever known me to follow rules?” Evadne scoffed.

  I raised my hand. “I feel like there should at least be a rule about not killing each other.”

  Liam’s head bobbed in agreement. “That seems fair.”

  “What’s the matter, mage? Afraid to die?” Her sneer erased all traces of her pretty face.

  “Unlike some in this room, I don’t list life-threatening situations as a favorite hobby.” The avalanches and feral supernaturals I’d faced as a mountain guide had been about survival, not entertainment.

  “There will be no killing of anyone in the training room,” Abra’s voice rang out.

  “But I already placed my bet,” Liam said.

  The older witch kept a watchful eye on us. I knew from her granddaughter Tate that Abra was concerned about this particular challenge. She wanted us to fight deadly demons rather than each other. Still, given my limited experience in the field, fighting a skilled tri-brid like Evadne could only elevate my game.

  Evadne wiggled her fingers in a ‘come hither’ gesture and I fortified my mind so that she couldn’t use her telepathy to identify my weaknesses or my plan of action.

  “Callie’s power comes from that pink streak in her hair,” Liam called. “She’s like the punk version of Samson.”

  My head jerked toward him. “No one is cutting my hair.”

  Evadne kept her eyes on me. “I think I’ll fight you next, Liam, if only to shut you up.”

  A bell sounded and Evadne charged. Strength and speed were her main traits, so I expected her to lead with those and she didn’t disappoint. I quickly activated the tarot card in my pocket—The Magician—and darted aside.

  Evadne skidded past me and halted. “You forget that I can smell you even if I can’t see you. You reek of black coffee and…” She stopped to sniff the air. “Barbecue potato chips?”

  I reappeared behind her. “The snack bar was out of pretzel bites.” I gave her low back a swift kick and she flew forward onto her hands and knees.

  “Nice!” Saxon clapped loudly in the gallery. The half angel-half vampire wasn’t a fan of Evadne’s. As the team leader, he was concerned with the unanimity of the group and Evadne wasn’t exactly known for her interpersonal skills.

  I felt prepared for Evadne’s next move, anticipating a photokinetic move to match my magic.

  I was wrong.

  From her position on the mat, she flipped to face me and sprang with her jaw unhinged. Her fangs plunged into my shoulder and I cried out in pain. This was worse than the time I was attacked by a feral vampire. I was only thirteen at the time and I’d broken the cardinal rule of wandering too far ahead of my father. His mage abilities didn’t extend to that level of healing and there was nowhere we could go without accelerating my blood loss. The only upside during those harrowing three days was that he didn’t force me to drink the Green-Eyed Monster, the potion that treated Melchior’s Syndrome—a disease I’d recently learned I didn’t actually have. Eventually I healed. Even more importantly, I learned a valuable lesson about heeding the wise words of Quinn Wendell.

  “Extrico,” I said through clenched teeth.

  Her fangs let go and I wrenched my body away, clutching my shoulder as blood trickled between my fingers. I turned to face her and realized that she’d sprinted to the opposite end of the mat. What was she doing?

  From the edge of the mat, she cartwheeled toward me at a rapid pace like a deranged magical cheerleader. I was so taken aback that she managed to reach me before I could defend myself. Her feet pummeled me as she wheeled around to the floor and I landed flat on my back. It was only when my head cracked against the hard surface of the floor that I realized I’d gone off the edge of the mat. When I tried to get back up and fight, everything went black.

  When I awoke, I found myself flat on the exam table in the healer’s office with a throbbing headache and wounded pride.

  “Welcome back, Calandra.” Emil crossed the room with his healing hands already aglow.

  “She cartwheeled,” I groused. “Who uses cartwheels as part of their battle plan?”

  “Evadne, apparently,” the fae said with an amused smile. “I have always admired her creativity.”

  I struggled to a seated position. “How much did you win?”

  He wore a vague smile. “What makes you think I bet against you?”

  “Come on. You’d have to be a fool to bet against Evadne.”

  He observed me. “And yet you agreed to fight her anyway. How curious.”

  “More like how stupid. Where’s Harmony?” Although Emil was a powerful fae, he didn’t normally work hours in the healer’s office.

  “I’m afraid we had to let her go.”

  “Let her go? As in you fired her?”

  Emil motioned for me to lean back. “I believe Abra handled the termination.”

  “What happened?” I immediately thought of the blood test results that the healer had shared with me in confidence that claimed I was one hundred percent human. I knew the results had to be a mistake, given that my father was a mage and I’d inherited his magical abilities.

  “Incompetence,” Emil said. The fae rubbed his hands together to warm them. “Would you mind lifting your shirt and rolling to your side?”

  I froze. “Is that necessary?”

  “I suppose I can work through the material of your shirt, or I can call in Rhea or Prunella if you’d be more comfortable with a female observer.”

  “It isn’t that.” How could I explain that there was a birthmark on my back that no one was supposed to see? Harmony had glimpsed it and I’d felt instant guilt for letting my father down so soon after his death. I’d spent a lifetime hiding my mage marks—the elaborate one on my back as well as the strip of blond hair that framed my face. Only certain lucky descendants of an ancient mage named Abraham bore the marks and my father had been insistent that I cover them to avoid unwanted attention. Coloring the blond streak fuchsia tended to bring a different kind of attention, but it was preferable to being challenged by every supernatural
with something to prove.

  “If you could try to work through my shirt,” I said. “The fabric is pretty thin.”

  “As you wish.”

  I groaned with each movement. My shoulder ached where she’d stuck her fangs. Evadne had done a number on me. More than one number, in fact—probably one through ten. Thankfully, I knew I’d heal quickly, especially with Emil’s help.

  “How could you manage to hire someone incompetent?” I asked. “You’re Pandora’s Pride, the most elite demon hunting organization in the world. I would’ve thought alarms would go off if anyone entered headquarters without the acceptable qualifications.”

  “If only your tongue was as worn out as the rest of you.”

  I snorted. “She’d have to cut it out. It’s the only way.”

  “Clearly.”

  My skin tingled and I felt myself relax. Although Emil lacked Harmony’s maternal bedside manner, the fae was a master healer.

  “What did she do? An improper diagnosis? Misplaced an important file?”

  Emil heaved a sigh. “It’s none of your concern, Callie. Focus on healing and you’ll live to fight Evadne another day.”

  “Oh, I’m concerned.” I tried to crane my neck to look at him and immediately winced from the pain. I looked back at the blank wall. “She told me to stop drinking the Green-Eyed Monster. Maybe I should get a second opinion.”

  “I saw the file. The potion was for Melchior’s Syndrome?” His fingers moved to the base of my skull and pressed against the bone. The pain eased within seconds.

  “Yes, I’d been taking the potion my whole life, but Harmony told me I don’t have the disease so I stopped. What if she was wrong?” She’d also told me that the potion was designed to suppress a supernatural’s traits, which made no sense. My father had encouraged my magic and worked tirelessly with me to develop my skills.

  “In that particular instance, I believe her assessment was correct.” Emil’s fingers glided along the back of my head to rest on the spot where I’d cracked it. “I wouldn’t recommend resuming the potion.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, if she was that incompetent that you fired her, how can you know without retesting?”

  “You may roll back now.”

  I turned slowly onto my back and looked at him. No more pain. “You’re a medical wizard, Emil.”

  “Fae hands.” He waved them like jazz hands before heading to the sink to wash them. “I wouldn’t worry about your dealings with Harmony. You had such limited interaction with her, I hardly think it matters.”

  “I guess everyone’s pretty upset.” Especially Liam. I was pretty sure he had a crush on the gorgeous healer, not that I blamed him.

  “Harmony was an error in judgment,” he said. “We rushed to hire someone after our last healer left. We won’t make that mistake again, hence my sacrifice now.” He offered a small smile. “My healing days are long over, but I’ve volunteered my services until a suitable replacement can be found.”

  I sat up and kicked out my legs for good measure. “If Abra’s in charge of the hiring, you might want to make yourself comfortable.” The head witch had high standards that even the gods themselves couldn’t reach.

  Emil snickered. “The search is already underway. I feel confident that we’ll find someone shortly.”

  My gaze swept the small room in search of my file. I wanted to know for certain whether Harmony had gotten rid of my blood test results like she said she would. She’d said at the time that she didn’t want the Pride to think she was incompetent.

  “So firing her had nothing to do with me?”

  Emil raised his brow. “You?”

  “Well, I only just started working here and she gets fired not long after. I can’t help but wonder if it’s more than a coincidence.”

  “As I said, it’s none of your concern.”

  Harmony must’ve destroyed the blood test results. There was no way that Emil wouldn’t mention them to me now. After all, the whole reason I ended up here was because they believed I had supernatural abilities that could help them. They’d seen me fight and use magic. If they had a report telling them I was one hundred percent human, they’d want to run that test again.

  “Did she leave anything behind?”

  Emil wrote a few notes on a sheet of paper. Presumably that would be added to my file, wherever it was. “Like what?”

  “She was looking into something for me.” Harmony had said she’d research my parents to see if she could find out more about my genetic history.

  Emil stopped writing and met my gaze. “You don’t have to worry about the potion. You have no afflictions. Trust me, if you suffered from a disease, we would do everything in our power to help you fight it. We’re on your side, Calandra.”

  I slid off the table and stretched my neck from side to side. “Thanks for the healing hands, doc. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Just doing the job I never wanted.”

  I left the room, more certain than before that I’d been one mistake in Harmony’s long line of them.

  Chapter Two

  I hurried through Salt in an effort to get back to my room for a hot shower. It was Saturday night and the casino already seemed to be operating at full capacity. I spotted Oren talking to two security guards and tried to slide past without being noticed, but the vampire seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to me. He also happened to be an expert stalker.

  “Miss Wendell, you look as though you’ve had a difficult day.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. “Is that your way of saying I look tired? Because that’s basically on every woman’s list of comments to avoid.”

  “Not at all. I was under the impression that you didn’t tire very easily.”

  “You’d be right about that,” I said.

  “Do tell.” The vampire had a way of looking at me that made my skin crawl. As many times as he’d shown interest in me, I’d made it doubly clear that it wasn’t reciprocated, nor would it ever be.

  “Are you hungry? I can acquire us a table at any restaurant of your choosing.”

  “How about Marta’s Grill?”

  Oren frowned. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with that particular establishment.”

  “Because it’s in the Rocky Mountains. They have excellent pie and seats shaped like saddles. Five stars. Highly recommend, although I’d avoid using the restroom there. The talent was all in the kitchen.”

  As I turned to walk away, Oren grabbed my arm. “Perhaps I can persuade you to enjoy a slice of pie here. I’m not opposed to cherry.”

  I pinned him with a hard stare. “You might want to think twice before touching me without permission, friend.”

  He released my arm with an apologetic smile that showed off his diamond encrusted fangs. “I thought perhaps you’d heard the news about the dead witches and were concerned for your safety.”

  “I’m half mage and I’m not concerned.” I continued walking and he fell in step beside me.

  “Because you needn’t worry,” he said. “They died over three hundred miles from here.”

  “Not worried.” I hit the button to summon the elevator.

  “If you change your mind…”

  I stepped into the elevator and turned to smile at him. “I won’t.” I watched his face disappear as the elevators closed and sagged with relief. I wasn’t in the mood for dodging Oren’s advances, not that I ever was.

  I dug out my keycard and opened the door to my room. It was small and sparse, but it was home. Considering I’d spent most of my life at campsites in the mountains, I was still adjusting to life in a casino hotel room.

  I spent extra time in the shower washing off the stink of training and injury. I dried off and changed into boxer shorts and a T-shirt. Although I didn’t tend to get tired, I still needed sleep to recharge and fully heal. Emil took the edge off, but my father had always warned that if I pushed myself too hard, I’d crack eventually.

  I crawled into bed and p
unched the pillow a few times to get the lumps in the right places. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, pretending that it was the open sky. With its glittering lights and thriving tourism, Atlantica City was a bustling metropolis compared with the mountains, but I wasn’t really a bustling metropolis kind of girl. I missed the mountains. I even missed being a guide to the desperate and determined with all its perils and rustic accoutrements. Travelers still needed assistance whether I was there or not. In that region, the area between human-controlled cities had become a danger zone inhabited by wild fae, werewolves, and the occasional feral vampire.

  I had a hard time relaxing tonight. I assumed it was because of losing to Evadne. The tri-brid was powerful. Why I thought it was a good idea to fight her, I had no idea. Nathaniel would say it was because I never shrank from a challenge. I turned on my side, wondering how the werewolf was faring. Nathaniel had other associates aside from my dad and me; it didn’t stop me from worrying though. I considered him family and I had no doubt he was worried about me too. He hadn’t been completely on board with my decision to come here in search of my dad’s killer. He also knew me well enough not to try and stop me.

  My gaze drifted to the red poker chip necklace now resting on the bedside table next to my phone. My trip with Saxon to a supernatural prison in Baltimore had yielded the information I’d desperately wanted—that Canute, the demon that murdered my father, had acted alone. My father and the travelers had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The poker chip that Canute had been wearing signified a debt that he owed to a man named Elliott Rosemont, but that debt had nothing to do with Quinn Wendell and Rosemont died two years ago. Still, I wanted to know more about it. Why would the demon have left a Baltimore prison and immediately head by himself to a desolate area like ours? Something about his actions didn’t make sense to me.