Werewolf in Las Vegas

Chapter 10

Giselle literally didn’t have to do anything besides walk into her hotel room, quickly maneuver through video checkout, grab the handle of her rolling bag, and head for the elevator. After leaving Vaughn’s office that afternoon, she’d been too intent on getting over to Howlin’ at the Moon to take the time to unpack.

She was on the way down to the lobby when Vaughn called. The elevator was empty, so she answered.

“Giselle, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Not exactly, but I talked briefly with my brother a little while ago, and he would like to see this situation resolved between Luke and Cynthia. Bryce thinks my presence helps.”

“Is Bryce serious about her?”

“Fortunately not. We can relax on that score.”

“Then it seems as if the rest isn’t your fight.”

“True.” Then she thought of something. “But while I’m there, maybe I’ll think of some strategy that will help you get back the Moon and the playground.”

“Good luck with that. I didn’t find any give to Luke on that subject.”

“But everyone has the ability to change.” She believed Luke was changing, and after hearing the story of Cynthia’s near drowning, Giselle sympathized more with his overprotectiveness.

“Just be careful. He’s a Dalton.”

Giselle couldn’t help smiling at Vaughn’s ominous tone when he said the name Dalton. “I know he is. I’ll be careful. And I’ll let you know what happens.” The elevator slid to a stop. “I have to go. Oh, by the way, I met Mr. Thatcher tonight.”

“Mr. Thatcher? Should I know who that is?”

“He’s the Daltons’ butler. Very English.” She started to say more and changed her mind. She wasn’t sure what was going on, and she certainly didn’t want to cause a problem for Mr. Thatcher.

“Oh, yeah. Now I remember him. I always thought it was strange that he wanted to work for a human family. Benedict was fascinated by the idea, though. He used to like getting Mr. Thatcher’s insights into human behavior, partly because of the accent, I think.”

“His accent is cool. I felt a little like I was in some period drama.”

“Just remember you’re in enemy territory.”

“I’ll remember. Talk to you later, Vaughn.” She disconnected the call and stepped into the lobby. Too bad Luke couldn’t come in and see this.

The forest effect really was spectacular. Earlier today the woodsy atmosphere had been enhanced with chattering birds and dappled sunlight, but now moonlight filtered through the branches. The hoot of an owl blended with the sound of wind through the tops of the trees.

After their discussion about the lobby of the Silver Crescent, Luke might not appreciate having her gush over this one, especially when he wasn’t allowed to see it. She’d always accepted the restrictions when it came to Weres and humans, but she couldn’t imagine what could be wrong with letting him step inside the lobby of Illusions for five minutes. It wasn’t as if guests would be shifting in the middle of the lobby or strolling through it in werewolf form.

But she supposed having a Were hotel and casino in the middle of Las Vegas was an unusual security challenge. The resorts in Washington State and Denver were far less accessible. This hotel had a front door that was steps away from a bustling street full of humans. Obviously the Cartwrights thought limiting access was the only way to maintain secrecy.

A valet took her suitcase and rolled it out the door.

“I’m in that town car.” She gestured to it as she pulled tip money out of her jeans pocket. Whenever she rode a motorcycle, which was often, she liked to use her pockets so she didn’t have to carry a purse.

The valet opened the back door of the car and accepted her tip before putting her suitcase in the trunk. As she scooted in, she noticed that Luke had opened the envelope the little girl had given him and was looking at the picture inside. The light in the Illusions portico was bright enough to read a book.

She scooted onto the seat. “Can I see?”

He turned the picture toward her as the car pulled into traffic. “This is one of my favorites. She was a water sprite, and the costume was made of this flowing blue-green stuff. She was six.”

“The costume’s beautiful.” But what Giselle noticed most was the brilliant, gap-toothed smile. “She looks really happy.”

“I’m sure she was. She loved getting dressed up and dancing for an audience. She was never scared.”

“A born performer.”

“She is. But this was a sideline, something she did after going to school. It wasn’t her whole life. I can’t believe she’d be happy if she had nothing else.”

She thought Cynthia needed to find that out for herself. The longer Luke stood in her way, the more she’d be convinced that dancing was exactly what she wanted.

“You don’t agree with me.”

“Actually, I don’t disagree. You could be right that she’s glamorized this life and has no realistic idea of how she’d feel if she lived it.”

Luke turned to her. “Then help me get her to see that!”

She gazed into his eyes as the lights from the Strip flowed past, painting their faces in every color of the rainbow. “I don’t think that’s possible right now. I think she can only find that out if she tries it.”

“Sure it is. She won’t listen to me because I’m her overbearing big brother and she thinks I don’t understand. But you don’t have a vested interest like I do.”

“Not specifically, but in a general sense, I’m invested in how this turns out for her. She’s an adult woman who deserves to make her own choices, wrong-headed though they might be.”

“So I’m supposed to stand by and let that happen?”

“Yes, you are.” She turned to him. “In reality, she shouldn’t have to coax you into agreeing with her, although that’s what she’s attempting to do with these riddles and tricks. She should just do it. But she loves you and doesn’t want to cause a rift.”

He groaned. “I don’t want a rift, either.”

Hearing the pain in his voice caused her to speak more gently. “Did you open the envelope you got at the Bellagio?”

“Not yet. Left it in the suite. There’s only so much of this I can take at one time. The pictures are bringing up all kinds of memories, times when the family was all together. Her recital nights were special times. I—” His cell phone chimed. “I’d better get that.”

“Yes, you’d better.” While he was checking his phone, she took hers out and sent a text to Bryce. Stop the pranks. We all need to sit down and talk this out. She sent it off with no expectations, but a little hope.

Luke put away his phone, too. “That was Mr. Thatcher. He says we have a little issue in the kitchen I need to handle, but while I do that, he’ll escort you up to the suite.”

“Perfect.” She could use this chance to get better acquainted with the mysterious Mr. Thatcher.

Jim pulled the town car smoothly into an underground garage and parked near an elevator. No sooner had Jim taken Giselle’s suitcase out of the trunk than Mr. Thatcher stepped out of the elevator.

“I’ll take that, my good man.” Mr. Thatcher snapped the handle into place and gestured Giselle toward the elevator.

Luke thanked his chauffeur and came over to join them. “So what’s going on in the kitchen?”

“Some dispute over hours, I believe.” Mr. Thatcher frowned in obvious disapproval as he followed them into the elevator and pulled the bag in after him. “Apparently they were ready to start brawling in the midst of hot kettles and sharp knives. Dangerous, not to mention unseemly.”

Luke sighed as he punched the button for the first floor. “My dad used to settle these things by telling everyone a joke.”

“I hope you don’t feel you have to do that, sir.”

“I would if I could, but that’s not my style.”

“Then you should handle it in your own way.”

“Thanks, Mr. Thatcher.” Luke handed the envelope with the picture to Giselle as the elevator stopped on the first floor. “If you wouldn’t mind taking that upstairs, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

“I shouldn’t be long.” He stepped out, turning back with a smile. “Mr. Thatcher will get you settled into your room.”

“That I will.”

The doors closed again, and Giselle was alone with Mr. Thatcher as the elevator traveled forty floors upward. She was trying to decide how to broach the subject of his being a werewolf when he saved her the trouble.

“This is fortuitous, Miss Landry. I was hoping I’d have a chance to talk with you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Thatcher. Your circumstances are intriguing.”

He nodded. “Just so. I knew the moment I walked into the penthouse and found you there that you’d wonder what was going on.”

“I’ve never heard of a Were working as a household servant for humans. How did that happen?”

“A combination of things. I’m devoted to the Thatcher pack in Hertfordshire. I go there for a month every year.”

“I’m sure that’s a nice break for you.”

“It is, but this is home now. I’ve been drawn to humans ever since I can remember. They fascinate me, and the best way to satisfy my curiosity is to work intimately with them, but I couldn’t do that in England. My pack wouldn’t have understood. They’d have considered it inappropriate.”

“So you put an ocean between you and them so that you could live as you wanted to.”

“Precisely.” He cleared his throat. “I had to begin by using my werewolf connections, and I met Harrison Cartwright when he was touring England. We talked, and he turned out to be an open-minded alpha who was willing to help set me up with a human family. At the time, he was friends with the Daltons and knew they’d suit me perfectly. Which they have.”

“But then Harrison gambled away the Silver Crescent.”

“Yes, and what a sad day that was for all of us. I worried that Mr. Cartwright would consider me disloyal for staying with the Dalton family, but by then they were my family. I talked with him about it, and he understood completely. He told me not to worry about it.”

The elevator reached the fortieth floor and the doors opened again.

“Ah, here we are.” Mr. Thatcher swept his arm toward the double doors of the entry. “After you, madam.”

She preceded him out of the elevator, yet he still managed to hurry around and open the door for her. Once they were both inside the suite, she turned back to him. “So then you moved into the Silver Crescent with the Daltons, a human family in a former werewolf hotel. That must have seemed strange.”

“Very strange at first, but I adjusted. And I was closer to the Moon, which was nice. But I missed those days when everyone got along. I especially missed chatting with Benedict Cartwright.”

“Vaughn told me that you and Benedict were friends. What did you think when Luke set up the match with him?”

Mr. Thatcher shook his head. “I was horrified, of course. I did what I could to discourage Luke from following that course of action, but I’m the butler. I’m not his father, although sometimes it feels that way, especially now that his actual father is gone.”

“And the werewolf playground is unavailable to you and everyone else.”

“Yes. What a tragedy. But fortunately, Benedict came to me about that. Luke had the locks changed at the Moon, which one would expect, but I have a key, just as I have keys to everything else around here.”

“But I thought the workers blocked off the entrance to the playground?”

“They modified it so that all anyone sees is a solid wall at the end of the hallway where there used to be a door. In actuality, it’s a panel controlled by a remote device. I have the key to the establishment, and Benedict has the device. He plans for us to check on the playground at various intervals.”

Giselle gazed at him and thought of the courage he was showing by agreeing to such an arrangement. “You can’t ever get caught doing that.”

“I’m well aware of the risks to us all. And although I wrestle with my disloyalty to Luke, I can’t allow the playground to fall into ruin.” He brightened. “In effect, I’m protecting Luke’s property by watching over that installation. If problems occurred down there, the Moon would be in jeopardy.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you and Benedict are planning to check on the playground.” She thought about the thoroughness with which the butler did his job. “I have no doubt you’ll be extremely careful.”

“More than you can imagine, madam. May I show you to your room?”

“That would be lovely.” She followed him down the same hallway where Luke had taken her to view the photo gallery, but he continued past that door on the right and wheeled her suitcase into a room on the left. “I trust this will do.”

She stepped into a spacious bedroom. Although the window looked out on Vegas, the atmosphere was that of a seaside resort. White furniture set against warm beige walls gave a crisp feel to the room. Blues and greens dominated the color scheme for the bed linens, the curtains, and the upholstered reading chair in one corner. Framed beach scenes decorated the walls.

She turned to him with a smile. “It’s very nice, Mr. Thatcher.”

“There’s an attached bath through that door. I believe you’ll find everything you need, but if not, this will summon me in no time.” He pointed to an intercom on the wall beside the door.

“Excellent. Thank you so much.”

“Then I’ll take my leave.” He started out the door, but turned back. “This is an impertinent question, and you certainly don’t have to answer, but are you and your brother aligned with the faction that encourages Weres mating with humans?”

“I can’t speak for my brother, but I’m not.”

Mr. Thatcher cleared his throat. “I only mention this because Luke and Cynthia are like my own offspring, and I want the best for them. I’d always assumed they’d end up with human mates. But now Cynthia has run off with your brother and you’re here with Luke.”

“Let me set your mind at ease, Mr. Thatcher. I have no intention of getting involved with Luke. I’m here as an intermediary between him and his sister. As for my brother, I spoke with him today. He and Cynthia are good friends, but that’s it. He’s the one who asked me if I’d continue to advocate for Cynthia’s dancing ambitions, so here I am.” She spread her arms. “The resident advocate.”

Amusement glinted in his eyes. “I’m grateful to you for that. I’m most distressed when Luke and Cynthia are at odds.”

“No one likes to see their children fight.”

“Precisely.”

“I can’t guarantee results on that score, but you can stop worrying that either of them will end up mating with a Were.”

“I’m not sure that worry is the correct word,” he said. “I’ve come to respect many things about humans.”

That’s when she realized she might have jumped to conclusions about him. “How do you stand on the Were-human issue, Mr. Thatcher?”

“That discussion would take far too long, madam. It’s time I left you to get settled in.”

“But we’ll talk again?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Friends?”

“More than that. Allies.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thatcher.” She didn’t know how this drama would play out, but having Mr. Thatcher as an ally was a bonus she hadn’t expected.