27. Taryn

TWENTY-SEVEN

TARYN

Where neon spirits rest their glow,

secrets past lie far below.

Star and dust, grand and staid,

hides the hall of riches made.

A sire lost does guard nearby,

seek the room of fortunes high.

Fortunately, this was the easiest clue to solve, thanks to Caiden. The oldest Verran immediately understood Moira’s cryptic instructions, and since he was always intimately involved in his family’s businesses—Tiernan not so much, apparently—he knew exactly where we needed to go.

Since we needed Caiden in the search party, that meant Bryn had to come along, too, or their distance apart would kill him, due to the blood curse Aine heaped on the royals of both Celestial Courts. The idea of bringing Bryn into a potentially dangerous situation nearly gave him an apoplexy, until she reminded him that as the Darklight, she was more powerful than him by miles. It was quite something to watch a former king be humbled so fully by his pregnant wife. It made me like her all the more.

Five minutes later, everyone except Tiernan and Fiona were out the door. It didn’t take us long to get to the north side of Fremont Street to a place called the Neon Boneyard where hundreds of old signs have been arranged into an outdoor museum.

It’s afterhours, but the twenty-seven signs that were restored remain lit up at all times, glowing brightly against the night sky in a kaleidoscope of colors.

With Bryn close by his side, Caiden leads our little pack through the meandering paths with old signs of every size arranged on either side. A few times I notice his gaze snags on a particular relic, and his naturally stoic expression appears to almost soften, as though remembering the early days of his family’s empire.

I place my hand in Finn’s and let him lead me as I stare entranced at some of the most iconic signs in Vegas history. I want to stop and study them all, imagining what they looked like when they were new and lit up and think about the thousands of people they attracted to their establishments.

But we’re quite literally on a mission, and there’s no time right now to play the part of tourist.

“Here we are,” Caiden says, as we stop in front of the massive red Stardust sign with its space-agey letters lit up with thousands of bulbs. The Riviera sign above it is similar in design, and with the monolith that is the Hard Rock Cafe guitar off to the right, we’re awash in the glow of red and yellow neon.

Bryn presses her free hand into her lower back, which is probably feeling the strain from the short walk. “Wow, that’s amazing. Definitely ‘grand and staid.’ So what’s the hall of riches Moira mentioned?”

“It’s a secret underground casino, called Abhaile ,” Caiden says.

A smile curves my lips. “Faerish for home .”

Caiden offers me a nod of respect. “That’s right. Our father opened it in 1908, just a few years after we established Vegas, as a gambling hall exclusive for Dark Fae. Then, when gambling was outlawed in 1910, he opened it up to all supernaturals.”

My brother’s eyes light up like a lightbulb turned on over his head. “Ah, I know this place. It was enjoyable when I had business here. But I lost much money playing roulette. That part I did not enjoy so much.”

“Now I remember,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “I never came with because I wouldn’t step foot in this city—no offense,” I add to Finn and his brother.

Finn winks. “None taken.”

Caiden frowns at Finn. “ Some taken.”

“But you always came back with less money than what you made on your new deals. Pissed me the hell off,” I finish, crossing my arms.

“He wasn’t the only one. The odds were heavily in the house’s favor,” Caiden says. “ Abhaile was how we made most of our money until they legalized gambling again in 1931. Then Dad shut it down, claiming it was too much of a hassle to keep it going with the rest of the city growing. Now, I wonder if he didn’t foresee the ban and planned the whole thing.”

Finn’s head snaps in his brother’s direction. “You think Dad was a seer?”

Caiden shrugs. “I’m not sure. Specialty powers typically run in family lines. Dad was an only child and alive when our people lived in Faerie, so I think it’s possible he had the sight and kept it secret since it didn’t pass down to us who were all born here.”

Connor snaps his fingers. “I always thought he knew too much. I just assumed he and our dad had spies everywhere.”

Finn shakes his head as though in disbelief. “At some point, I’m going to think back on my entire life for any clues Dad was psychic. But not until we get this spear and put Edevane down.”

Conall bumps fists with Finn. “Amen, brother. How do we get into the casino, CV?”

“I don’t know, exactly. None of this was here when it was running. I assumed the location for the museum was chosen to permanently cover up the evidence. I never thought there would still be a way in.”

I form a flame in the palm of my hand for extra light. “Then we’d better get looking.”

Everyone else turns on their phone flashlights and begins to pair off. Finn steps in close, speaking softly. “Why don’t you go with your brother. You haven’t had any time together since you got out.”

This male. He’s forever surprising me with how thoughtful and intuitive he is. It’s a good thing I have a tough exterior, because he turns my insides to mush every time that he says something sweet. Which is always .

“Thank you,” I say. He gives me a wink and heads off to join Caiden and Bryn as I turn toward Dmitri. “Where should we start?”

His scarred eyebrow arches high on his forehead as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Start with how you wanted my head for allying with your enemy only two days ago and now you are his little sun .”

I bite the inside of my cheek in an attempt to prevent the smile from forming, but I’m not very successful. “What do you want me to say? A lot has happened in two days. He’s…” Different from anyone I’ve ever met. Come to mean more to me than I can possibly express. Mine. “…unexpected,” I finish with, but I know my brother hears everything I didn’t say.

Dmitri takes it all in for several long seconds, then nods as though accepting the situation. “As long as you are happy, moy sever , I am also happy. For you both.”

Overcome with love for the vampire who has been my everything for almost five centuries, I step into his open arms and accept the tight embrace that says so much more than he would ever verbalize.

When the moment is over, we pull apart and get back to business searching for the secret entrance around the massive Stardust letters. More old signs, large and small, are stored behind it, which is where Dmitri and I start.

“Gods, this place is incredible,” I say in awe, shining my flame on a playing card that comes up to my chest.

“It is rather impressive.” He checks his fingers after touching it and scowls. “And dirty.”

Giving him a know-it-all smirk, I say, “Aren’t you glad you listened to me and changed out of your fancy suit?” My brother rarely dresses down but seeing him in Tiernan’s black joggers and black Smashing Pumpkins concert tee is a whole different level of casual for him.

Somehow his scowl deepens. “I look like a ridiculous college frat boy, not a powerful vampir pakhan . You are lucky I am glad to have you back or I would think of a suitable plan for revenge. Now search.”

“Okay, geez. Touchy, touchy,” I murmur with a grin.

as I pass my light over a letter N that’s almost twice my height. I’m about to keep going when something about the way the shadows shift on the faded blue shipping container it’s leaning against catches my eye. “Hold on, what’s this?”

Dmitri joins me and holds his phone’s flashlight over the area where I’m pointing, allowing me to extinguish my flame. Reaching up, I brush off the small area with my hand, creating a cloud of desert dust that makes us cough. When the air clears, we see it. Scratched into the paint on the side of the metal container are the letters A-B-H-A-I-L-E.

“Good work, sestra ,” he says, then calls the others over.

Connor walks around the front of the shipping container, which is blocked by the giant letter. “If this is it, how the hell do we get in? We can’t move that thing even with all our supernatural strength.”

“We don’t have to,” Conall says from where he’s crouched behind the left side of the N. “This side is on a pole that’s cemented into the ground. And see here? There’s grease under these couplings for lubrication, which means the sign can probably swing out.”

Finn doesn’t waste time testing Conall’s theory. He moves over to the right side of the sign and pulls. Sure enough, it pivots on the pole, allowing us access to the doors on the shipping container.

“I’ll be damned,” Connor says as Finn lifts the latch on one of the doors. “Anyone else feel like we’re in a Scooby Doo episode?”

“Dibs on being Fred,” Conall says.

Caiden side-eyes his friends, effectively shutting them up. Finn pulls the container door open, which is eerily silent for how old and banged up it is. Inside, two lanterns are on the floor, illuminating an elevator, the old kind that looks more like a decorative cage with doors you have to close yourself.

“It’s the original elevator,” Caiden says. “The ground used to be built up around it, disguising it as part of the landscape. When they developed the area for the museum, someone must have fit this over it to hide it without destroying it.”

Something about this seems odd to me. Curious, I move to get a closer look, picking up one of the lanterns. “These are battery-operated,” I say, noticing the battery compartment on the bottom. “And that door on this rusty, old shipping container didn’t make a sound when Finn opened it.”

Bryn studies the elevator, running her hand over the side. “The clue says ‘a sire lost does guard nearby.’ We thought it was referring to King Braden whose place of rest at the Venetian isn’t far from here. But is it possible someone is literally guarding the spear?”

Everyone glances at the elevator car warily. Then Caiden speaks as the voice of reason. “I think more than likely, Barwyn set this all up for Finn just as he was the one who sent the letter.”

Bryn rejoins her husband and takes his hand. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry, I watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade the other night, so I have the Guardian of the Holy Grail in my mind.”

Connor is studying Caiden intensely, reading something on his face that only someone who’s known him his whole life would see. “You’re holding something back, boss. What is it?”

The eldest Verran sighs and rubs at the stubble on his square jaw. “That’s the most likely scenario. But there is another possibility.”

My eyebrows shoot up and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Which is?”

“Edevane and his minions brought those lamps,” he says, his tone heavy. “And they’re still down there.”

Finn curses under his breath, then turns to me. “Do you sense your magic in here at all?”

I close my eyes and concentrate on feeling the energy of the space around me. After a bit, I open my eyes and shake my head. “No, which means one of three things: he hasn’t been here yet, he was here a while ago and the trail is cold, or he’s low enough on my magic that I can’t sense it.”

Dmitri makes a sound of amusement. “I believe that is what gamblers call a crap shoot.”

“Well, then,” Conall says as he pulls the gun from the back of his waistband and checks the clip before slamming it home. “When in Vegas, baby.”

“Let’s do this.” Connor does the same with his gun, then we all get into the elevator.

Caiden pulls the doors closed and pushes the only button. There’s a slight jarring motion that makes all of us hold our breath, then the car begins lowering smoothly. Once we’re fully below ground level, our view is obstructed by the walls of the elevator shaft. The air seems to buzz with nervous energy as we wonder what we’ll find when we reach the bottom. Will the spear be gone? Is Edevane waiting to ambush us? At least a dozen different scenarios torpedo through my mind, and I try to come up with ways of handling each one so I’m ready for anything.

I’m so lost in thought that I startle when Finn’s hand wraps around mine. Holding my gaze, he lifts it up to place a kiss on the backs of my fingers that instantly settles my nerves. Whatever we face when we reach the bottom, we’ll face together. And knowing that makes me feel like I have an entire army at my back.

When the elevator stops, the Woulfe brothers stand ready to take the lead. Connor has his gun held securely in both hands, pointed at the floor. “Everybody follow us and keep your head on a swivel. Here we go.”

Conall opens the doors, and we file out together into the pitch black. I light flames in both hands, but Caiden tells us to hold on, then the sound of a large switch being thrown echoes through the space. Chandeliers sputter to life, their glow flickering weakly at first before steadily brightening, and I get my first look at Abhaile , the secret, underground gambling hall.

The casino itself looks like something time forgot. Dark velvet drapes line the walls, now faded and moth-eaten. Intricate mosaics of gemstones and stained glass still depict scenes of Dark Fae lore, but their colors are dim, the once-vibrant images now ghostly and spectral.

Tables of mahogany and ebony lie scattered, some overturned, their surfaces covered in a thick layer of dust. The obsidian floor has been dulled by time, though it’s surprisingly clean by comparison.

Crystal glasses, some still half-full with long-evaporated elixirs, sit abandoned, their contents leaving dark, sticky residues. The dealers' tables are empty, their surfaces scratched and worn, yet I can almost hear the echo of murmured conversations and the clinking of glasses.

Finn turns to his brother. “Now where?”

“The high roller room,” Caiden says. “It’s on the far side of the casino.”

I don’t bother voicing that I doubt it will be that easy as we make our way through the main area of the gambling hall, moving slowly and keeping an eye out for danger.

At last, we reach a set of large ornate doors. One of them is open by a few inches, putting us on high alert. The twins stop us, simultaneously holding their fists up next to their heads. I don’t hear anything, but being wolf shifters, their senses are heightened even more than that of regular fae.

They look at each other, then Conall mouths a single word. Blood. Connor nods.

I look to my brother, the flare of his nostrils all the confirmation I need to know he smells it too. A chill trips down my spine, but I’m more than ready to face down whatever’s on the other side of this door.

The Woulfe brothers silently count to three, then we push our way into the room. We stand on guard, our muscles tense, our stances ready to spring into action. But no one jumps out, and no one is waiting, poised to fight us. Staying alert, we take in the scene.

As the room where the high rollers won and lost fortunes, I’m not surprised that it’s even more opulent than where we came from. But there’s no time to appreciate the details, because at a glance we know one thing is for certain: we’re too late.

On the other side of the room, the broken remains of a display case cover the floor. Among the shattered glass and splintered wood lies a spear, broken in half and discarded next to the limp body of an older male. Slumped on his side, his long, white hair covers his face, and his outstretched arm rests in the pool of blood seeping from his chest wound.

I move to help him, but Finn stops me. “Not yet. It could be a trap. Connor?”

“On it,” Connor says, handing his gun over to his brother. Then he magically shifts. His clothes magically disappear as russet-colored fur replaces smooth skin, and he lands on all fours in the form of a massive wolf with paws nearly as big as my head.

I’ve never been this close to a wolf shifter, and I find myself properly awestruck watching Connor run the perimeter of the room, scenting different areas. The tension in the air is palpable as we wait for him to finish while a person lies mortally wounded, possibly already gone.

Seemingly satisfied that we’re not in danger of being ambushed, Connor approaches the male and nudges him with his nose. He grunts in response. Connor takes a few steps back and sits on his haunches, which is apparently the sign for “all clear” because Finn releases my arm and the group rushes forward.

Conall meets his brother’s bright golden eyes and nods. “He says he’s alive, but he doesn’t have long.”

I blink in surprise. “How do you know that?”

He walks over to a wall and yanks down a velvet tapestry. “Shifters in a family are telepathic while in animal form, but our twin bond allows it even if only one of us shifts.” He hurries back and hands me the bunched-up fabric. “Put this under his head. Finn, let’s get him straightened out.”

The male groans as they gently roll him onto his back while I place the makeshift pillow beneath his head. “There you go,” I say softly. “Nice and easy, we got you.”

Being careful of any potential head wounds, I use a finger to brush his long hair away from his face…and my heart stops.

“Holy shit,” Finn says. “This is the guy I saw in my vision placing the clue at the Bellagio for Moira.”

Tears blur my vision as he opens his eyes a mere sliver. Barely enough to see the familiar lavender pools staring up at me. “Tar…yn…”

All gazes land on me. Concern lines Finn’s face as he asks, “Who is this?”

“His name is Garyth.” A sire lost… “Moira wasn’t referring to a dead king. She was referring to a lost father.” Centuries of heartache and longing knot in my throat. “ My lost father.”