Page 5

Chapter Five

This particular night, Caleb didn’t plan on winning anything substantial. Although he hadn’t sensed anything obviously amiss, his sixth sense told him that it was better to lie low for a while, even if he had no intention of stopping these casino visits altogether.

They were the closest thing he had to a social life.

So he played craps and blackjack and Texas Hold ’Em, won a hundred bucks here, lost fifty there, and did his best to give off the aura of someone who was in Las Vegas to have a good time but definitely wasn’t serious about gambling. Tonight he wore the face of someone close to his age, a Hispanic man around thirty, and drank a couple of cocktails and flirted with the waitress, all while he wondered just what the hell — no pun intended — he was doing here.

Sure, he wasn’t buried in snowdrifts, and sure, no one in Las Vegas knew who Caleb Lockwood even was, but still, deep down he realized he couldn’t hang out in casinos forever, even if doing so helped pad his bottom line.

With the new identity he’d invented for himself, he could have done anything he liked.

Well, almost anything. Part of the reason he’d been okay with following his father’s orders and going to L.A. to find the missing Project Demon Hunters footage was that he’d gotten to work in the television industry while there, had gotten just a taste of the one thing he’d actually wanted, which was to go to film school and make directing or producing or something along those lines his career. His father had put his foot down, of course, because Caleb’s role in life had been to do whatever Daniel Lockwood said…and to eventually take over as bank president once his father’s tenure on Earth was over and he needed to return to Hell.

Being trapped in Hell was almost preferable to staring at spreadsheets all day.

None of that had come to pass, of course, thanks to the way the half-demons and their sons had been banished from this plane, and even though he was now free of his father, Caleb knew he didn’t dare go near Southern California, not when he was worried that Rosemary or someone else in the Project Demon Hunters gang might somehow be able to sniff out his presence there.

So, Las Vegas it was. But maybe he could pad his resume to get himself a job in local TV news, something like that. It would have to be behind the scenes, since he’d never had any desire to be on camera — and doing so probably wouldn’t have been the safest thing in the world anyhow, considering the way he was trying to maintain a low profile — and yet he knew he needed to find something to occupy his time.

Meanwhile, though, he’d gamble and go to the shows, or hang out in the updated Brady Bunch house he’d bought and do his best to act as though everything in his life was just hunky-dory.

As he went to cash in his winnings, though, a woman with long red hair walked past him, and he found himself stopping so he could stare after her.

Not because she was pretty, even though she was, and not because her nearly waist-length copper locks were so unusual — he honestly wasn’t all that into redheads, although he knew he’d be eternally grateful to the unknown woman who’d driven that slim blade right into Belial’s black heart — but because of the power that shimmered around her, visible to his part-demon senses even though he knew no one else would be able to detect it.

She was definitely all human, and yet different at the same time, the aura she gave off not anything like what he’d sensed in Rosemary McGuire after her angelic powers had awakened. No, this reminded him more of what he’d felt from Glynis, Rosemary’s mother, who was completely human but still possessed her own psychic gifts.

Caleb doubted the redhead could be related to any of them — the McGuire women all had curly brown hair — but he supposed those sorts of talents cropped up in the general population from time to time.

And because the red-haired woman was definitely the most interesting person he’d encountered tonight, he wanted to do what he could to follow her without being too obvious.

She seemed out of place in the casino, and that wasn’t only because she wore a professional-looking knee-length skirt and a silk blouse in a smoky teal color that beautifully complemented her fiery hair rather than the jeans and T-shirts — or the odd cocktail dress or blazer — sported by the other denizens of the casino. No, she kept looking from side to side as she made her way across the floor, almost as if she was on the hunt for something…or someone.

Casino security? She didn’t really give off that vibe, and she didn’t feel like a cop, either.

Maybe she’d come here to meet someone and was having a hard time finding them.

Something about that explanation didn’t seem right, though, which only piqued his interest that much more.

As much as she was looking around her, she didn’t seem to have noticed him following a few yards behind, pausing from time to time to inspect a slot machine as though weighing whether it was worth taking the time to feed a dollar bill into the thing, but never allowing so much distance to open up between them that he couldn’t keep track of where she was going.

Once or twice, she did pause and glance over her shoulder, but her gaze didn’t linger enough for him to think he’d aroused her suspicions.

The woman made an entire circuit of the casino floor, and eventually stopped near the door that opened onto the baccarat rooms. So far, Caleb hadn’t played any baccarat, mostly because that tended to be a game for high rollers and one that might send increased scrutiny his way, even though he never wore the same face twice.

Was she going inside?

Apparently not, because after standing there for a moment, she shook her head and then continued on her way.

Whatever she was searching for, it didn’t seem to be here. She frowned a little, looking uncertain, and then walked away from the baccarat rooms and toward the entrance to the casino. Lacking anything better to do, Caleb followed her, still taking care to hang back so she wouldn’t notice him.

Sure enough, she went outside, although rather than pausing at the valet station, she strode purposefully down the sidewalk, seeming to head for the next casino, which was located about a block away. Just as he went through the automatic sliding doors, he let his appearance shift again, this time to a balding man in his forties dressed in a button-up shirt and jeans, the sort of person he doubted she would look at twice, making sure to time the change perfectly so the movement of the doors would blur any footage the casino’s CCTV cameras might catch.

The ploy seemed to have worked, because she didn’t throw any of those wary glances over her shoulder, almost as if she knew that whoever she was looking for, she wouldn’t find them out here on the street.

Which, on that particular Friday night, was plenty crowded, so he didn’t have a problem continuing to tail her, letting the other people on the sidewalk ebb and flow around him, creating an effective shield.

Then she entered the Palace Station, the flashing lights over the entrance painting her hair almost magenta before she disappeared into the dim interior.

Caleb quickened his pace so he wouldn’t lose the woman, and slipped into the casino only a few yards behind her. Honestly, he couldn’t even say why it felt so important to follow the redhead and see what she was up to, except that his life had already fallen into a sort of humdrum routine, and encountering someone with her kind of powers was like dropping a zesty slice of lemon into an otherwise blah glass of water.

And that was without even knowing the reason for the mission she was apparently on.

This casino was smaller and shabbier, but her behavior was pretty much the same — she made a circuit of the floor, zigzagging past the slot machines so she could walk by the poker and blackjack tables before she paused for a moment to watch a couple of craps games in the process.

Was she a gambler trying to suss out the competition?

He would have said she didn’t give off that vibe, either, except that his time here in Las Vegas had taught him that professional gamblers came in all shapes and sizes and styles of dress, so it was difficult to pin them down just by looking at them.

And she wasn’t a hooker, that was for sure. Although he thought she had on some makeup, it was fairly subdued, and while she wasn’t wearing a suit, that slimly tailored skirt and silk blouse were still more suited for a boardroom than a casino floor.

Even if that skirt showed off a nicely sculpted ass and a seriously fine pair of long legs.

No, he wasn’t going to ogle her…even if he had to admit she was fairly ogle-able.

Instead, he paused at a slot machine and fed it a dollar bill, then pulled the handle. It would have been so easy to make it come up all cherries, but the last thing he wanted was to get a jackpot while she was standing only a few feet away and possibly draw her attention.

No, scratch that. He wanted her to look at him — at him, Caleb Lockwood, and not the middle-aged loser he’d disguised himself to be. Although she wore that faint frown again and had her hands on her hips, indicating she wasn’t entirely happy with her life right now, she looked both beautiful and smart, the kind of person he’d been thinking he needed to find.

Yeah, he thought. Because your last try at getting romantic with a psychic turned out so well.

Actually, it had been an unmitigated disaster, but he still didn’t think that was really his fault. He hadn’t been able to detect Rosemary’s angelic nature, had thought she was nothing more than a beautiful woman with some serious psychic gifts.

But her angel blood had sure smelled his demon blood as soon as things looked as if they might get really physical. After that, she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

History probably wouldn’t repeat itself, even though he didn’t think the red-haired woman was anything other than a regular mortal with some psychic ability. They existed in the human population and had for thousands of years — if not more.

No, probably better that he continue his solitary existence for a while longer, if for no other reason than he was still getting his bearings and introducing anything new into his life here wouldn’t be a very smart idea.

Then the woman shook her head and moved toward the exit, the one that led to the casino’s parking garage.

Was she leaving?

It sure looked that way. He wanted to swear, knowing it would be a lot more difficult to continue the pursuit with his own vehicle still sitting in the garage over at the Bellagio.

For now, though, about the only thing he could do was keep to the shadows and hope he’d be able to catch a glimpse of her car as she drove past. If he got her license plate number, then it shouldn’t be too hard to track her down.

And now Caleb enters the crazy stalker phase of his exile went through his mind, and he couldn’t quite keep himself from grinning. Anyone watching would have thought for sure that he’d lost it.

He hadn’t, though. This was just a way to amuse himself and waste a little time. Besides, the longer he stayed out, the more he could delay going back to his empty house.

Yes, there she went, driving past in a little white Hyundai Kona hybrid. The make and model of the vehicle weren’t important, though. No, what was important — even more than her license plate, which he quickly consigned to memory — was the magnetic sign affixed to the passenger-side door.

Dunne & Dunne, Las Vegas Real Estate Experts.

Ah, she was a realtor. That at least explained why she’d been dressed the way she was, although he had to admit that he’d also met plenty of real estate agents who weren’t nearly so formal.

Now he knew where she worked…and that would allow him to learn a whole lot more.

Much more than he’d been expecting, actually. Sure, he went immediately to the Dunne & Dunne website after he got home — well, once he’d ordered some DoorDash and poured himself a beer — and confirmed that the red-haired woman was Delia Dunne, junior partner in the agency, which appeared to be run by her mother Linda. The older woman resembled her daughter a great deal, except for the red hair. Was Delia’s father the redhead, or had a couple of recessive genes popped up from somewhere?

It happened.

The truly interesting stuff, however, he found through Googling Delia’s name, since the agency website didn’t offer much beyond the bios of its two agents and a listing of all the properties they were currently representing. Well, and an enigmatic “additional services” tab, which sent you to a web form to fill out, along with a phone number you could call.

Exactly why people would feel the need to explore that “additional services” tab became clear soon enough. Delia was a cleaner, although not the sort the mob called in to mop up after a particularly bloody hit.

No, she was someone who could sense if a house was haunted and then perform the necessary rituals to send the resident spirits on to the next plane of existence.

Well, that explained why he’d sensed such a powerful psychic aura around her. But what the hell had she been doing roaming around those casinos? Were they haunted?

He didn’t think so. Although ghost-hunting wasn’t his field of expertise, his demon blood still allowed him to sense if any other entities were lurking around a place, and he hadn’t detected a single thing as he walked through the casino floors.

Well, nothing except a lot of desperation, greed, and bad choices.

The doorbell rang, so he set his laptop down on the coffee table and went to greet the DoorDash driver and collect his bag of Thai takeout. Once the transaction was handled, he headed back into the living room and fished out the box of spring rolls, figuring he’d munch on those first before he moved on to the entrees and rice.

Now that he was back at fighting weight, he didn’t need to worry about how many calories he consumed or how much grease or fat or sugar might be contained in any of his food. Just another benefit of the demon blood that flowed in his veins.

With his free hand, he opened up his laptop again and stared at Delia Dunne’s photo for a long moment. There was something very no-nonsense about the set of her pretty mouth and the way her hazel-green eyes met the camera, as though challenging the photographer to say something about her admittedly offbeat side hustle.

He wanted to know why she’d been exploring those casinos with so much purpose today, even as he tried to figure out the best way to approach her without arousing too much suspicion. If he hadn’t just bought a completely updated and remodeled house, he could have posed as a prospective client looking for a new home here in Las Vegas.

No, he needed to think of something else. She was the most interesting thing he’d come across in his new life, and he wasn’t about to let this go.

Frowning a little, he wiped his fingers on one of the napkins tucked into the bag of takeout and picked up the container of cashew chicken he’d ordered, then absently fed himself a few bites as he considered the problem.

Even though he already owned a house, that didn’t mean he might not be interested in purchasing a second property for rental income or finding a fixer-upper he could flip. He certainly had enough ready cash on hand to buy a distressed property. Hell, his new identity had awesome credit and he could probably qualify for something pretty impressive, although the last thing he wanted was to get bogged down in the mortgage process.

No, much better to look for something he could buy for cash. Besides, presenting himself as an investor with that kind of ready capital would probably make him that much more attractive as a client.

Speaking of which….

He set down the container of cashew chicken, then reached up to run a hand through his hair. Here at home, he always looked like himself, mostly because he knew his neighbors might get suspicious if it seemed as though a parade of strange men was coming and going from the house.

And he knew he wanted to meet Delia Dunne while wearing his own face. A calculated risk, he supposed, but there was no reason for her to know him from Adam, not when he’d looked entirely different when he was tailing her at the casinos earlier today.

A quick perusal of the properties Dunne and Dunne were representing told him there were several that might work. Or, even better, he could hint to her that he was all right with buying a property other people had been avoiding due to a pesky resident ghost.

He couldn’t wait to see her in action.