1

Spring 1988

"This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard." Jake rolled his eyes and twirled a drumstick. "The devil? Are you fucking serious?"

Miles nodded. "They say the blues singer Robert Johnson did it. He was supposedly the worst guitar player ever, and then one night he stood on the crossroad playing and a black guy came by and tuned his guitar."

Jake rolled his eyes before he replied. "That doesn't mean it was the devil. It was probably a dude wandering by, heard how bad he was, then stopped and showed him how to play."

"It was the devil!" Dan insisted, his guitar case in his hand as they walked along the dirt road. "I've read all about it."

Jake glanced at their bass player, Brian. "You in on this too?"

"Yup. I mean how can I not be." Brian turned to look at Jake but he didn't look excited.

"Fine." Jake stood and tossed the drumsticks against his shoulder. "Let's go meet the devil."

The wind swept across the road as they approached the worn rusted signs that marked where highway 49 crossed Highway 60. It was dark, except the moon which was bright and full tonight. Jake couldn't shake the feeling they looked as if they were recreating a Cinderella video. They could have been any band from the sunset strip in the day, only that Jake's oddly light blond hair being natural and not dyed set him apart.

They'd left the car on the side of the road as they walked into the crossroads. It was the loneliest place Jake had ever seen. On either side of the road lay what he assumed were cotton or corn fields. But he couldn't tell in the dark.

Miles walked ahead, the lead singer and leader of the band. "I don't know if we are supposed to say anything to summon the devil."

They waited for several minutes before Jake had had enough with the silence and lack of anything even remotely resembling the devil. Not that he knew what exactly the devil looked like. "This is hogwash. I'm going back to the car. Why would the devil want anything to do with us? What could we have that he'd want?"

"Look!" Brian pointed down the dark north road.

A man was moving towards them with deliberate and business like steps. He wore a black coat that trailed around his ankles and a hat that covered his face. The whole look was very much from the twenties or thirties. The closer he came, the stronger the smell of sulfur grew. A large, lanky, black and white dog trailed his steps. The man walked up to the four boys, observing them through narrowed eyes. He washeavyset, skin as dark as the night sky, and his eyes glinted red when he tipped his hat back to see them.

"Evening, boys," said the dark man in a deep gravelly voice that resonated through them as an earthquake. "How may I be of assistance?"

"We came to seek the devil to attain fame." Miles said, his eyes never leaving the mans. They were all rooted to where they stood.

"Are you really the devil?" Jake asked in the pause after Miles spoke. He was the only one that wasn't frozen in terror.

The dog circled them, watching as its master produced a clipboard from his coat. Then the man laughed, "Yes, boy, I am. I mean, I'm the devil for these parts, I'm not Lucifer. But I can collect your souls. The terms of the deal are, you will be famous. But I can and will collect when I feel like it, preferably at your peak fame. Well, a demon will come for you, it won't be me. But you will know. Do you agree?"

Three of them nodded. Jake was still trying to figure out how they had gotten the dogs eyes to glow red. Brian jabbed the drummer with his elbow and Jake nodded just so they could go. This lean hound loping about made him nervous. The whole situation did.

"Good. Then go back to your show and good luck." The man in black turned to go. "But before you go-"

They watched as he pulled a small medical bag from his inside coat pocket and removed rubber gloves and small lancets.

"We have to seal this in blood?" Miles asked quickly. "I thought you would bite us or something to get it."

"Oh dear no, that is unsanitary and uncivilized." He replied as he pricked each of their fingers and pressed the pad of it to the bottom of the contract. When that was done he turned without another word to them, placing the contracts into his inside pockets as well.

"Come Ivan, lets go." The man called to the big dog who chased after him with long graceful strides.

Las Vegas

Summer, 2008

Jake hummed as he showered, lathering himself with the luxurious sponge. Outside the frosted shower door, the room was steamy; the mirror fogged over. The scent of masculinity and musk drifted out of the bathroom on the wisps of steam that escaped under the door.

When he finished, he stepped out onto the fluffy soft rug by the tub. His wet platinum hair hung down his back, well below his shoulders, in a white cascade that was nothing short of majestic. Ignoring the steam and fog, Jake wrapped himself in a plush robe and stepped out into the bedroom of his penthouse suite on the seventh floor of the casino he owned. His bed was empty, which it had most definitely not been when he went for the shower. Pursing his lips, he looked out into the front room, which was also empty. He peered past the bar into the kitchen on the other side of the room and sighed. The rich smell of coffee brewing caught his attention.

"At least she made coffee this time," he muttered as he went into the small kitchen to procure a cup. Jake put in two sugar cubes and some creamer before tasting the life-giving liquid.

Sipping the hot cup of coffee, Jake went back into the bedroom where the window looked out over the street below. In the cold, gray dawn, taxis lined the street outside, picking up guests from the casino that had gambled the night away and were too inebriated to drive. He hoped he would see her among them, but he didn't. He never did. He thought of her as some nocturnal animal, not unlike a raccoon, that vanished in the daytime and reappeared at night as if they had always been there.

Nadia and Jake had met in the casino downstairs. She was a terrible gambler, and Jake had bailed her out of a tight spot at the blackjack table one night. He hadn't asked for favors in return; he had merely been trying to help a lady out. But somehow they had clicked, and after a few drinks, she made it to Jake's penthouse a few hours before sunrise. She came almost nightly then after dinner and a few drinks they ended up here in his bed. By morning she would be gone. Sometimes she made him coffee, like this morning. Sometimes she left him asleep or showering. It suited Jake though, he wasn't looking to get into serious relationships with his problems.

Jake turned away from the window and his curiosity of Nadia's whereabouts. His phone jangled from the night stand, drawing his attention to what he was sure was business. Jake answered, sipping his coffee as he checked out his reflection in the mirror. He needed to hit the gym, this week, he thought. "Hello?"

"Jake? You need to come down to the office as soon as possible. Someone killed Marshall last night." The voice on the other end, which Jake identified as Alan the security guard, said in a tight and serious tone.

"What do you mean? Why are we just now discussing it this morning?" Jake's good mood slipped away quickly.

"I've only just now found his body between the dumpster and the parking lot."

Jake nearly choked on his coffee, he sputtered on the warm liquid as he struggled to form words. "Have you called the police?"

"Of course not," Alan replied casually. "I wanted to call you first. It's your casino."

Jake rolled his eyes. If this had been anyone else, he would have thought they were joking. Alan had seen some things in his time in Vegas, in jail, and even briefly in the military. He didn't react to things as normal people would. "Close the back parking lot and don't let anyone out the back door. I'll be right down."

In fifteen minutes, Jake stepped off the elevator into the casino hotel lobby. Dressed in faded jeans and a tee-shirt, hair neatly tied back, he made his way towards the back door, nodding good morning to his staff. They were the only people who would recognize him as the owner of the casino. While they knew him to wear designer brands, he was not nearly as well-dressed as other casino owners were. Suits and ties just weren't his thing.

In the parking lot, Jake had to let his eyes adjust to the bright morning sun. Alan was waiting for him by the building, calmly smoking a cigarette. Alan tossed the butt on the ground and crushed it under his shoe when he saw Jake. He nodded towards the dumpster. "Over there."

Sure enough, Marshall's shoes were visible from behind the large blue dumpster. Jake walked closer, peering at Marshall with a grimace. He looked as if he had passed out drunk. But flies were already starting to buzz around the body, leaving no doubt he was dead. Jake could see no obvious reason for the death yet. With a deep frown he called the police himself from his cell phone.

Within the hour, the body was being carried away in a coroner van; they roped the area off, and detectives were rifling through the dumpster and the parking lot. They were the last business in town, still using CCTV and VCR for security; there were a few chuckles when Alan provided copies of the security tapes to the confused officers. The officers seemed content it was a robbery gone wrong.

When they left, Jake turned to go back inside. He was sorry for Marshall's loss, but there would need to be damage control to keep customers from being frightened, or unsafe.

"Jake?" Alan followed him. "What do you plan to do now?"

"I will pay for his funeral and see if his family needs help, if he had any family. I never knew him that well. But otherwise I need more security around the perimeter and a replacement." Jake stepped onto the elevator to head up to the next floor where his office was. Alan followed.

"I have something you should see." Alan pulled a tape from the pocket of his blue silk jacket that was emblazoned with the Rock Star logo across the back and in miniature on the front.

"This is no time to be watching porn, Alan." Jake said with a weak smile. He opened his office with a key from a ring of many keys in his pocket.

"This isn't porn." Alan chuckled and followed Jake in, flipping on the light as they entered.

Jake took off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door before moving to his desk and sitting. He watched Alan put the tape into the ancient VCR and made a note he needed to upgrade this casino's security.

On the black and white tape, Jake watched Marshall walk across the back parking lot with trash in hand. He walked just out of the camera's path. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary until a bright light swept across the parking lot, under where the camera was mounted. But that could have easily been a car headlight, Jake thought. There was no sound. A large black dog trotted by just as a wave of static cut the camera off.

"Jake sat back in his chair and sipped his now cold cup of coffee. He made a face of disgust and set the cup aside. "I will not be surprised if his autopsy says there's not a mark on him."

"The police have roped off the whole back to investigate." Alan said as he looked out the big window behind Jake's desk.

"Fat lot of good that'll do 'em," Jake sighed when he stood. "They won't catch this person. I am going out for coffee and donuts. Want anything?"

"Our roulette operator gets killed and you are going out for coffee and donuts?" Alan turned to Jake, surprised.

"What would you have me do? The man is dead. I am still very much alive and I'm hungry. Do you want donuts or not?" Jake repeated.

"Fine, yes. But what about Marshall?" Alan followed his boss. They stepped into the elevator and turned to watch the doors close. Alan glanced at Jake as the elevator went down. "Did you not like Marshall?"

"I didn't know him well. He was stealing a grand a week from me, I knew that much. I figured he needed it pretty bad to take such a brazen risk. Addiction, child support, God only knows. But I didn't kill him, if that's what you think." Jake raised a brow at Alan.

"You said they would never catch the killer. Do you know who did it?" Alan followed Jake outside the casino into the street. The morning sun was bright overhead, only a few wispy clouds marred an otherwise perfect sky. "Was it a mafia hit, you think?"

Jake didn't look at Alan, he walked straight through the growing crowds of tourists coming in for the days activities. When they reached the coffee shop on the corner, Jake still hadn't spoken. Once his order for coffee and a doughnut were filled, he stood by the bar waiting on Alan to receive his food as well.

"I was in a rock band back in the late eighties." Jake confessed as he sipped the delicious coffee. It was well worth the five bucks.

"Like a hair band?" Alan asked, eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't know why he was surprised at all.

Jake grumbled in annoyance. "We had hair, yes. But not a hair band. I hate that term. We were just plain heavy metal. But it was a weird time, glam rock was dying, grunge was rising, and then there were the few of us who were sticking to our roots. We were competing with some big names. Our singer was into the occult and all that jazz. He talked us into going to Mississippi and selling our soul at the crossroad."

"The crossroads?" Alan followed Jake to a small table by the window. Jake bumped his head on the low hanging light that looked more suited to an Italian cafe than a coffee shop.

Jake steadied the swinging light and sighed. "In Clarksdale, Mississippi, there's a junction to highways 49 and 61. If you stand out there at midnight, the devil comes and makes a deal with you. Fame for your soul."

Alan raised a brow, "You did that?"

"I was young. Stupid." Jake bit into his doughnut and took his time eating it. "But yeah, we did."

Alan leaned closer, on edge and eager for more. "Is that stuff real? Was it really the devil?"

"You know at the time I didn't believe it. But a year later we hit it big on a song that I had never liked and thought would flop, and then we lost our singer in a freak accident. Electrocuted by his microphone on stage." Jake looked around, crumpling the paper wrapper his doughnut had been handed to him in. "I had been reading up on the ones who had done this before us and it seemed they were all dying as they hit their peak of fame. Our guitarist and my friend died in a freak accident recently. He was hit by a bus. You remember Dan, right? That's why I live there at the casino. I could afford to live anywhere but I choose not to flaunt any of my money. But I guess the time has come for him to collect."

"Who?"

"Weren't you listening? The goddamn devil." Jake drank the rest of his coffee.

"What does this have to do with the murder of our roulette dealer?" Alan rubbed his beard, puzzled.

"It was a warning they are here." Jake stood up. "We should get back."

Alan tossed his trash and followed Jake back to the casino. "Here I was thinking you were involved in some mafia bullshit."

"Maybe I am." Jake quickened his pace as the wind picked up, bringing the smell of rain to the desert. "Get on the phone, Alan, and find out Marshall's burial arrangement, his family, all that. I'll cut the checks."

Back in the office, finally alone with his thoughts, Jake stared out the window at the parking lot. He could see his own car from here and it never failed to make him smile when he saw his bright orange mustang waiting for him, inviting him to let the top back and feel the wind. Not today though. He didn't feel much like leaving and going anywhere.

Turning, his eyes fell on the old band poster he kept in here as a memento. He hadn't picked up a guitar or drumsticks in years. They packed all of that in the casino's basement in a dark corner. He couldn't help a chuckle at how young and naïve they had been back then, stupid teenage runaways in California when the Sunset Strip was the place to be and make a name.

Jake decided maybe a visit to the pool was in order. He literally had no idea what else to do. He needed to relax and pull his mind together. When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he vowed that he was leaving this in his room.

"Hello?"

"Jake?" A voice on the other end said, a voice he vaguely recognized but could not place. The voice was shaky with panic.

"Yes, who is this?" Jake's face clouded with confusion, his brain racing to recognize the voice, but it was little more than a strained whisper backed by heavy breathing.

"Brian. Don't you remember me?" The reply came softly.

Jake's eyes widened, his eyes shooting back to the poster and Brian's slim face, his goofy grin. No one had heard from him since Miles died. "Yes, I remember you but how did you get my number? What's wrong?"

"Your secretary gave it to me. I told her it was an emergency." Brian turned to look at himself in the broken motel mirror. His face, once handsome and sharp, was now scruffy and swollen. His eyes were hollow with fatigue, both mental and physical. He thought briefly that he looked like one of those serial killers you see on the news, much older than his barely forty years of life. "I—wanted to warn you."

"Warn me?" Jake asked, but he already knew what it was. "Warn me about what?"

"You remember that night in Mississippi, don't you?" Brian wheezed.

"Yes. Where are you going with this, Brian?" Jake stepped out of his office and entered his suite. He could still smell the faint essence of Nadia's perfume from last night, and he smiled.

"They're coming." Brian turned towards the bathroom door. The bathroom was just inside the motel room door and he could hear the footsteps and sniffing in the main hallway outside. He heard a faint scratching on the door. He hissed into the small cell phone. "The hell hounds. They're coming!"

A wave of coldness passed over Jake when he heard those words. "Are you certain you aren't just tripping acid again? I hear that stuff has some horrible flashbacks."

"No, Jake. This thing has pursued me from California to Missouri. I am in a motel now near Springfield, and it still found me. I'm out of time, Jake. I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch. I heard about Dan, I'm so sorry. I just wanted you to know that before--" Brian whispered frantically, fumbling the handgun from his coat pocket and slipping a bullet into the chamber. The scratching became more frantic at the door. Quickly, Brian began reciting the Lord's prayer into the phone.

"The hell is going on? Brian? Brian?" Jake tried to get his former band-mate's attention, but there was a sudden whoosh of air as the door gave way to the giant black hound. Jake heard the strangled snarl and a sudden pop of what sounded like firecrackers just as the line died.

Jake realized with a chill that it had not been fireworks at all. It had been a firearm. Brian had killed himself reciting the Lord's prayer, hoping that would save him. Jake tossed the phone down and rubbed the bridge of his nose. There was no way to know if it had worked for Brian, and no way to know when they would come for him.

"Dammit." Jake stared across the boulevard at the other casino's across the way. As he watched the bustling crowds below vanishing into the doors of the other establishments, a chill came over him. Since that thing had gone after Marshall, would it go after anyone else here? Possibly Alan or Nadia? Jake turned from the window and went into his closet to find his swim trunks. Perhaps it wasn't the time for a swim, he thought, but he was determined to not to panic. He had to act like nothing happened at all.

In the pool, on a red floating chair, Jake relaxed. Through dark aviator sunglasses, he watched the clouds float across the bright blue sky on a breeze that could not be felt on the ground. He'd give anything to go back to the way things had been, when he thought all the tales of demons, angels, and God were fairy tales. But he had seen too much to not believe. People went along with their lives like there wasn't a life and death battle for the souls of humans all around them. Jake envied that. He closed his eyes, foot tapping to the beat of unheard music in his head. He had slipped into a half-sleep state, dreaming of the days of the band, onstage, fans screaming, music so loud it surrounded him and became his very being.

"You look real busy," a female voice cut through Jake's thoughts. Nadia was standing poolside, her hair pulled up in a bun that shimmered gold in the bright sunlight.

"Aha, so you do exist in the daytime. All this time I thought you were a vampire." Jake lifted his glasses and admired her lush figure in the black yoga pants she wore. "What brings you to my office in the middle of the day?"

Nadia laughed at his attempt at humor. "I heard about what happened this morning. I came to see if you were okay. What happened?"

Jake nodded. "Let's discuss this inside, shall we?"

With temperatures teasing the triple digits, Nadia agreed with him. "Is the bar open?"

"For you? Always. But yes, it should be open for lunch by now." Jake slid off the chair into the water and then exited the pool. He dried off as they went back inside.

In the back of the bar and grill section of the casino, Jake and Nadia slid into a round booth that was reserved for Jake. The darkness of the bar was a direct and welcome contrast to the bright summer day outside.

"So what went down?" Nadia asked, blinking several times to adjust her eyes to the dim light. Sweat had forced her eyeliner into the corner of her eye and she wiped at the stinging sensation.

"My roulette operator was found dead behind the dumpster in the back," Jake replied. He wasn't lying, that was what had happened, and he saw no need to include the details about demons.

"Do they know who did it?" Nadia took the frosty red margarita from the waiter and stabbed a straw into it.

"Of course not. This is Vegas, honey, this stuff happens all the time." Jake shrugged and pushed the umbrella in his own margarita aside so he could insert the straw. "I doubt they ever will, sadly. I am handling his funeral expenses."

"How well did you know Marshall?" Nadia asked, looking up from her drink quickly.

Jake raised an eyebrow. "He sometimes stayed in a room here instead of going home. I don't know if he had a family or not, but I have him on video taking out about a grand a night. I don't know what he was into, but-"

"Marshall was in debt to some mafia loan sharks." Nadia looked back at her drink. Her late husband had left her in some debt with the same people, but she didn't feel the need to elaborate on that yet.

"Okay, his name is probably all over the news and paper by now, but how do you know who he is in debt to?" Jake's eyebrow rose in clear suspicion.

"Because I have some connections. These bastards are the ones who killed my husband, I think." She admitted, not making eye contact.

"Husband? You are a widow?" Jake replied, tilting his head. They had never gotten this deep into conversation. She seemed so young to be a widow, but he had never asked her age.

"Marshall and my late husband were friends, and they both were in debt. My husband was involved in a lot of illegal activities I am sure led to his death." She explained.

"That would explain why he was stealing from me. I noticed, but I said nothing. I had a feeling he needed the money worse than I did. To be honest, I thought it might be an addiction but I see now." Jake leaned back in the booth, his damp shirt stuck to the leather upholstery.

"I believe it was a mob hit." Nadia shrugged.

"I don't know about all that," Jake said with a shrug.

"I'm worried about your safety, Jake." Nadia whispered, even though the bar was empty. "What if they come for you?"

He chuckled. "Honey, the mafia 'whacking' me is the least of my worries."

Nadia chuckled at his reply. "Oh? You aren't worried about them putting the moves on your casino here? You know this is where my husband met the sharks he had that loan with." Nadia nodded towards the bar across the dim room, where a clean-cut man in a white button down was mixing a drink in a silver shaker for two middle-aged women. "At your bar."

"I don't doubt that he did. I have some shady regulars," Jake glanced at the bartender, pushing his long hair off his shoulder and behind him, "But, I'm not worried, I have a few connections of my own, you see."

Nadia's eyes widened, turning cold as she stared Jake down, she could feel her heart speed up slightly. "Was it you?"

"Hmm?"

"Was it you that killed him?" Nadia asked, her voice a hiss.

"I don't even know who the fuck he is- was- how would I know if I killed him?" Jake lifted the glass to his lips. "Honestly, though, I've killed no one."

"Do you know who did it?" She insisted, her manicured nails pressing into the table as her hand tightened involuntarily.

"Again, I don't know who he- your husband-was." Jake sighed. "Maybe we should take this up to my office. The lunch rush is coming in and this isn't the sort of thing I want overheard in my bar."

"His name was Dan."

Jake's expression changed just enough to tell Nadia that he knew something he wasn't telling. "Let's talk about this in my office."

The urgency in his voice silenced her sharp tongue. Nadia followed him to the elevator, her heart racing with anticipation. Was it just possible that Jake could help her solve the mystery of Dan's death? It was almost too good to believe.

Nadia held her tongue until they were inside the office, and Jake had closed the door. The words burst from her. "What do you know?"

Jake sat down, gathering his thoughts before he spoke to her. Unwelcome guilt flooded his mind. His affair with Nadia seemed to violate some unspoken code. "I knew him. God, I didn't know he was your husband. I knew he had a wife, but he never said your name. I figured there were reasons for that too."

"How well did you know him?" Nadia had taken a seat across from him, reclining in the brown leather chair with her slim legs crossed.

Jake pointed at the poster on the wall behind her. Nadia looked at it with wide eyes, her breath hitching slightly. Her eyes met those of her dead husband and an unnamed emotion overtook her. Her eyes raked over the drummer behind Dan in the picture. His appearance suddenly dawned on her. She glanced from Jake to the poster.

He was older now, but he had changed little. His features had grown stronger with age, his body more muscular. His hair was no longer teased, he was no longer wearing ripped jeans or chains, but she recognized him now. Her heart skipped a beat. "Me-MetalPlay? You were the drummer! I used to see them around Los Angeles! Dan said he played with them but never wanted o talk about it so I figured it had ended badly as a lot of those bands did. I had no idea you were the drummer!"

"Yes," Jake chuckled. "Our lead singer, Miles, talked us into trying to sell our souls to the devil at the crossroad. I thought it was all a bunch of nonsense. Afterward, the song 'Mistress' hit big and Miles got killed onstage one night. His mic shorted out and electrocuted him. That should never have happened. I realized it wasn't an accident. The devil's contract said that he would collect when we peaked in fame, so I quit after Miles died. Walked away, bought this place with my earnings and the money from the lawsuit we won against the microphone maker."

She was unsure what to make of his answer. Was he speaking metaphorically? Slowly she formed words through her confusion. "Devil? So — mafia devil?"

He chuckled. "No. I meant the actual devil. Lucifer, Satan, Beelzebub, Pan, Baphomet- whatever his real name is, I am not an expert on the subject. "

She blinked a few times, "The real devil? Jake—what are you talking about?"

"Do you believe in heaven and hell?"

"Why— well, yes, I do," Nadia admitted. She wasn't sure she believed all this, however.

"I didn't. At least not until the night the band took me to the crossroads." He pulled a bottle of cheap malt liquor from his desk. It was the kind one buys at a shady gas station when nothing matters anymore but getting shit-faced.

Nadia slammed her fist into the table, rocking it and startling Jake. Her face was tight; she seemed to be breathing harder. "Who killed Dan, damn it?"

It took him a moment to regain his composure, but when Jake leaned back, his answer wasn't what Nadia expected. "I'm not sure anyone did. It could have really been a freak accident."

"People don't just go around getting hit by buses!" She yelled, slamming herself back into the chair. Tendrils of blond escaped her bun and framed her soft but angry face.

"I was with him the night he died. He came in here talking about something he had that would change the game or some nonsense. But I don't know what it was. He wasn't making sense." Jake said, pressing his fingertips together. It was a partial lie. He knew that Dan had been attempting to reverse the deal for his soul, but he hadn't explained how he was going to do it. "I begged him not to do it. Told him I would help him but he wouldn't listen. He took off out of here and that was the last I heard from him."

Nadia studied her lap, carefully organizing her face and thoughts to hide the emotion that threatened to wash over her. "Dan was always such a hard head. He told me he was heavily in debt and he was doing all these 'jobs' to pay them off."

"Why have you brought this up? We've never talked this much before."

"Because they're after me, Jake." She admitted, rubbing the corners of her eyes with a little sigh. "I'm getting phone calls and texts from blocked numbers, I think I'm being followed. Maybe I'm just crazy, ya know?"

"I don't think you're crazy. I think you're in danger. I am too. To be honest, this whole murder thing is someone trying to collect a debt I owe. I am sorry he got caught up in it."

"Oh my God, have you got security for yourself? Jake-"

"I'm more worried about you. I can handle this mess but you shouldn't have too." Jake turned to look out the window, making a note to call window cleaners this afternoon. Red dust seemed to stain the glass and obstruct his view with it's dusty haze. "Move in here, Nadia."

She gasped in surprise, her red lips slightly ajar. "With you?"

"Well I mean, if you want, but this is a casino with five penthouse suites and countless rooms. Pick one." He motioned towards the door.

"I wouldn't want to impose-"

"You won't, believe me. I have hired more security and Alan was muttering something about a new system. You'd be safer here."

Nadia nodded. "You're right and the lease on the townhouse is coming up for renewal. I'd rather not stay there. It's too hard, especially at night."

He caught the way her eyes averted, and he understood then why she came here each night. He stood from his chair and made his way over to her, taking her hands. "I understand, Nadia. I will be here whenever you need me. I feel like I owe Dan that much at least."

"I'll grab what I need and move tonight if that's okay? I can have movers store the rest until I need it again." She came to her feet, their eyes still locked. She wasn't surprised, nor did she object when he leaned forward to kiss her lips.

Jake's left hand moved to secure her waist against him while the right slid up her back to support her neck. His lips tasted like the sweet margarita he had been drinking before. The kiss lingered a little longer than it should have since he had no intentions of making love to her at the moment. But neither could resist the comfort of the other.

"Alan and I will accompany you to the townhouse to pack. I would rather keep an eye on you if I could," Jake said when the kiss broke. He had left her so breathless all she could do was nod in agreement.

Nadia stood on her balcony and watched the sun rise just over the mountains, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. Nadia had slept little, having spent the night unpacking the things she had brought. Jake had told her the penthouse was furnished, so her furniture went to storage. Empty boxes were scattered through the large open living room, but she was done unpacking. The only thing left unpacked was a box of Dan's things that was shoved into her closet, out of sight and out of mind. She would never toss it, but wondered if she'd ever open it again.

The ringing of the phone cut into her thoughts. "This can't be good news this early in the morning." She thought as she picked it up.

"Hello?"

"You're awake. Good." Jake's voice was too happy for so early in the morning. Nadia had never been around to know he was a morning person, and now she was sort of glad she hadn't ever stuck around to see. She was certainly not a morning person.

"What can I do for you?" Nadia asked, glancing at the clock. She wondered if he would like a quick morning romp. She found herself oddly okay with that.

"Get dressed and meet me on the roof. The elevator will bring you up. We will have a sunrise breakfast with drinks." Jake was standing, a thick towel wrapped around his waist as he watched the boulevard below slowly brighten with pink light. He could not see the sunrise from his room.

Nadia's lips curled into a smile without her consent. "I'll meet you in about twenty minutes."

When Nadia arrived at the top of the casino, she found Jake sitting leisurely in a padded white wicker chair. The table was also white wicker, with a glass top. The white umbrella that shaded the table fluttered in the arid desert breeze. There were other tables identical to this one scattered around this side of the roof, and a tiny tiki style bar where a young man was busy squeezing oranges for a mixed drink.

Jake stood up upon seeing her, pulling out the chair beside him. "Good morning, come sit. Breakfast will be ready soon."

Once she was seated, Jake sat down again and picked up his small coffee cup. His eyes went over her quickly. She had hurriedly dressed in jeans and a shirt. He wasn't used to seeing her so casual, it lent a lightness to her face and demeanor.

"This is nice," Nadia said, her eyes roaming the rooftop and the tiki bar. "Do you have breakfast up here a lot?"

The young man from the bar brought over a small cup of coffee and a mixed drink that was bright yellow and orange layered with fresh fruit on the sides. Nadia gave him a nod and sipped the drink first. It was hands down the best Tequila Sunrise she had ever had.

Jake nodded. "You would know if you bothered to stay around in the morning, instead of vanishing into the night like some vampire. Are you sure you're not a vampire?"

Nadia laughed at his serious expression. "I assure you I am not."

"That's good. I think succubus suits you better." Jake finished his coffee and took the drink he was offered.

Nadia once again laughed at his comment, slightly embarrassed by the innuendo. By now she should be used to it she knew. Jake was blunt, often crude. "Is that the only reason you had me move in here?"

But before Jake spoke, Alan stepped out onto the roof with them. "Someone is here for you-"

Before Alan could finish, a woman barged through the door. She was shorter than Nadia. It looked like her hair had been in the bun she wore for days. Though her face was a little fuller than it had been years before, Jake knew exactly who she was. Her eyes locked onto his, red and swollen from crying, her hands shook.

"Allie?" He responded to the hysterical looking woman. "Allie, how did you find me here?"

"It got Brian, Jake. The hell hounds--" she broke down sobbing, unmindful of the other people in the room and what they might think.

Jake wrapped her in his big arms, allowing her to sob for a moment. "He called me last night. He said something about them but I didn't know he was dead."

That part was a blatant lie. This was only confirmation of what he already knew. But there was no way he could tell her he had heard Brian's last words and the gunshot that had ended it. He just held her against him as she sobbed. Nadia watched, trading glances with Jake.

"Am I in danger now?" Allie pulled away enough to look up at Jake, her late husbands friend since middle school.

"I wouldn't think so. You weren't in on the deal."

"Why did he do it? Why did he make such a ridiculous deal? I just thought it was--" Allie's words were cut off by uncontrollable sobs that escaped her throat.

"Bullshit?" Jake supplied. "I did too. I mean who would have thought?"

"Whose idea was it?" Alli wiped her eyes. She couldn't believe Brian would have been involved in such a thing. He had always been a logical guy.

"Miles. I assumed he'd been dropping too much acid." Jake shrugged.

Alan rubbed his face, this was all too weird for him. People standing around talking about meeting the devil and selling souls like it was the most normal thing in the world. But people were dying, not just dying but being mauled to death by unseen forces, and there seemed to be no explanation. It baffled him.

"You said the hell hound got him?" Jake continued, walking from Allie to and leaning on the edge of the roof to look down over the strip.

She nodded, "Tore him to shreds. The police could only identify him by his wallet and ID in the room. He disappeared two days before after a dog bit him outside our house. Just a stray who ran at him while he was getting the mail. I came out and scared it away but it frightened him. He took off that night, taking nothing but his wallet and the car. The police found him when the hotel called about a disturbance in one of their rooms. There wasn't much left, and they ruled a dog he had brought in with him mauled him. We both know what it was, Jake. You know and I do too."

"Yeah, it was inevitable I suppose. I am terribly sorry for your loss Allie. Can I help with anything?" Jake asked quickly.

"I guess not. He left us well off and I have my career. I think he'd like you to come to the service." Allie dried her tears on a tissue from her pocket.

"You send the information and I will be there." Jake offered her a sad smile.

Allie dried her tears and then met his gaze, her eyes suddenly brighter. "You. Why hasn't it come for you?"

He didn't like her tone. It sounded as if she were accusing him of something. "It has, Allie. I have avoided it until now but I don't imagine I can much longer."

That answer seemed to satisfy her, and she turned to walk out. Nadia had been silent the whole time, but when the door closed behind Allie, she spoke.

"This is getting too real. What are we going to do? Mafia loan sharks can be dealt with easily but this is the devil himself."

"I have a feeling they're the same," Jake replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Never thought I would be up against the devil. This isn't in my pay grade," Alan laughed nervously.

"You're right. You need a raise." Jake smiled sadly. He was really relying on Alan a lot these days.

"What am I supposed to do if demons attack us?" Alan insisted with a deep roll of his dark eyes. "Do I call a priest or the police?"

"I doubt either would do much good," Jake shook his head. He met Nadia's gaze. "Do you have business to attend today?"

"I should go to the bank," she replied. "They've given me notice that Dan's account is ready for me to transfer to my account. They took a good long while to decide if I could have it."

"Yes, they did. Sometimes there are delays if there are suspicions about where the money came from, and given his reputation, I guess I am hardly surprised. I'll come with you."

Dan had been dead close to a year. Nadia missed him but she did not miss the constant danger and chaos that was involved. He had been a gambler, but not a very good one, and this had strained their marriage many times. In the months before his death, Nadia believed the marriage was on its last legs, though she had held out hoping for a solution.

Shaking herself from the intrusive and painful thoughts, she turned to the door. "I will get my purse and we will go if you insist on coming with me."

"I insist," Jake said as the door closed behind her.

The bank was in the neighboring town of Boulder City. It was a small bank, not even a chain. A friendly young manager who seemed to recognize Nadia met them. She directed them into her cubicle.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Sena. Dan was a great man and we will miss him. Such a tragic accident." The manager smiled as she picked out forms and a folder from her desk drawer. Using a blue pen, she pointed to the lines where she needed a signature. "If you will sign here and here."

Nadia did so but in a daze. It seemed so unreal. She looked up at the manager, reading her name tag. Her name was Debbie. "Is that all?"

The manager of the bank handed her a folder of statements and other information and nodded. "Yes. We will start transfer and you will have the money in your account by Friday."

Nadia nodded blankly. "Thank you."

Outside, the day had become hot already. The sun was baking everything under it with a vengeance, by afternoon it would be absolute hell. Jake opened the car door for Nadia and she chuckled at him as she got into the front seat, stuffing the folders into her oversize purse.

When Jake got in, she pulled the seat belt around her before speaking, "So what's the deal with this car? I would think a successful casino owner could afford something a lot nicer than a— what is this? A 90s Mustang?"

"I have never flashed my wealth around. This is the first car I've ever owned," he chuckled and reached up to unclip the convertible top before pressing the button that pulled it back. "She's on her second engine and paint job and third transmission. Oh, the windows doesn't go down just so you know."

"So why on earth do you keep it?" Nadia couldn't help but laugh at the proud way he spoke of the car like an old friend.

"Cause I like it and it's been loyal. I believe in fixing and not trashing things." He pulled back out into the street and they moved through town towards the mountains. "Ever see the Hoover Dam?"

"No— I haven't." Nadia glanced at him, confused why he had asked.

"Because we aren't far from it. Might as well see it while we are here." He sped up, the older engine purring, vibrating the floor under Nadia's feet. Jake smiled, "Don't hear engines like that so much anymore."

"Dare I ask what color this was before it was this blinding orange?" Nadia nodded at the hood. She could only describe it as tangerine.

"Dark green." Jake replied. "You know that dark ugly green everything was in the 90s?"

"Ew." She wrinkled her nose.

"I know. I didn't like it either." Jake was good at small talk and that kept them busy as they drove up to the dam and across it.

Nadia couldn't help but admire the view. Dan didn't do spontaneous things. He was very methodical and level headed. It had been what attracted her to him in the first place. Nadia enjoyed being in control of a situation and have all the details up front. With Jake around, she had learned she could not always predict what he might say or do. It excited her in a way she had never felt before.

Jake spoke to a guard in a small guard shack before driving across the bridge. The scene was breathtaking from there; the sheer vastness of it took Nadia's breath. She peered out the window in awe at the concrete and water hundred of feet below.

"I've heard there are bodies trapped in the concrete," Nadia said, not looking at Jake.

"They say that but it's still up for debate. I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few at least." He replied without taking his eyes off the road.

Talk fell silent between them but was not awkward. They found being in each other's company, even when not chatting or doing more adult things, was comfortable. At noon, they stopped at a local place for lunch. They chose a booth at the window and while they waited for food, Nadia leafed through Dan's papers.

Jake read a newspaper that had been left behind in the booth. When he peered over the top, Nadia's face seemed to be creased in anger.

"What is it?" Jake asked curiously, not sure if he should have asked at all.

"Dan has been keeping a storage building in Arizona. The payments auto draft. I knew nothing about this. I wonder what he has in it?"

Jake had half an idea, but he didn't say it. "You mean he never mentioned it to you? Big thing to keep from your wife, I would think."

"There are several charges on here to a restaurant I have never even heard of." She slammed the folder closed and shoved it back into her purse. Her mind raced with the evidence. It was obvious Dan had been cheating on her in the past year of their marriage. "Damn that man."

"Oh come now, I doubt it's as bad as you think. Remember they involved him with some shady deals, it could be something to do with that. Why would any man in his right mind keep a mistress when he had you at home?" Jake raised an eyebrow and put the newspaper that he'd lost interest in aside. But then again Jake knew Dan wasn't always the brightest. If he had been, he wouldn't have ended up dead, he thought.

"Well just what would you think?" Nadia handed him the papers.

Before he finished reading them, a waitress came to get their order, then glided away. Jake read over the columns of numbers. "I would say it looks suspicious. But knowing Dan, I will bet it isn't a mistress. It is likely the thing they killed him for in that storage unit."

Nadia blanched white for a moment. "Do— do you think anyone knows it's there? Do you think they will come for it?"

"I can't swear they won't. What's odd is that there is no actual contact information for the storage place. It just says self-storage. How would we find out what set of units it is? Have you ever been to Arizona? These places are all over the place." Jake passed her the papers back and looked at his food, which was being placed in front of him. The quickness of it's arrival had startled him.

Nadia looked towards the street, glimpsing her reflection in the window. She was without make up today, her hair pulled up. In the year since Dan had died she had tried to hide her pain under layers of make up but something about Jake let her know it was okay to be herself and free. He was so easy to be around, she didn't have to be on guard or worry he would bolt out of a date night for business. It was wonderful. Living in the hotel was also exciting to Nadia, it was like a permanent vacation and she didn't miss the townhouse at all.

Alan admired the work of the security company that had just finished installing new cameras and a wall of monitors in the main office that he shared with Jake. The new cameras could be controlled with a mouse and they were placed to watch every corridor in the building and every door. Each camera had it's on screen and the quality was much better than the old CCTV cameras that Jake had left in for far too long. They were in a box by Alan's feet now, ready to be taken to the dumpster.

Alan was working on the new camera's, getting a feel for how to maneuver and zoom them in on people, when Jake poked his head in the door. The sudden appearance was enough to make him look up with a jerk.

"Good, you're here. Come and see the new system." Alan held his hands up at the set up. "Those demons don't stand a chance."

"I wouldn't say all that but at least we can see them coming." Jake looked at each of the cameras. "These are great quality. I admit I should have updated sooner, but the old ones worked fine until now."

"I doubt these would have stopped the murder," Alan said. He clicked the mouse to zoom in on the roulette wheel on the main floor. The new operator, was testing the wheel out before the people crowded around it later. "I suspect that he has some sort of scam going already and I will figure it out."

Jake laughed. "Well, I have some research to do. I'll be in my office. I'll yell if I need help."

"I'm sure you will," Alan replied, not looking away from the screen. After ten years he was well accustomed to being security as well as IT.

Only a small reading light, that illuminated the spot above Nadia's book as she sat in bed reading, broke the darkness of the bedroom. Nadia was focused on the n***l in her left hand and the warm tea in the other. She'd been unable to sleep even after several drinks at the bar. Jake had been holed up in his own penthouse all day reading about demons and how to avoid them and the infamous story of the devil at the crossroad. Nadia wasn't offended by his absence but the distraction would be nice, she thought.

A hollow knock on the door drew her attention. Half expecting Jake or Alan, she stood, pulling her silk kimono robe tighter around her body. The man on the other side was tall, intimidatingly so. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing an immaculate suit.

He inclined his head slightly at Nadia, playing with his shiny wrist cuffs. "I am here about your husband- Dan?"

Nadia raised an eyebrow. "Dan is dead and has been for a while."

"Dan has something of mine and I would like it back." The man replied with no readable expression.

"What would that be?" Nadia replied with hint of sourness detectable in her voice.

"A briefcase. It's about so big--" the man spread his hands apart a little over a foot. His lips pulled back into a sneer, he was being sarcastic. "It's brown. Has a little handle."

"So like every briefcase ever made?" Nadia replied tartly. She knew instantly which briefcase he meant. It was in her closet. She'd shoved it in that box in her closet when she moved in.

The man gave a gruff laugh, "I'd like it now."

"It isn't here. I will have to fetch it from storage." Nadia lied, hoping her facial features didn't give her away.

They had not, they remained stoic, and annoyed. The man nodded. "I will return tomorrow night and collect it."

Nadia said nothing, she instead glared at the man as he turned sharply and stalked to the elevator door, which opened in his face as if by magic without him touching any buttons. Nadia watched him step through the doors and vanish before she turned and went back inside her penthouse. She took care to lock the door and put the chain on as well.

"Dammit, Dan, " she muttered as she went into the bedroom and threw open the closet door with a bang. She tore open the box and found the briefcase on top of the contents. "What the hell have you got in here that is so important?"

Nadia tossed the suitcase on the bed, flipping it over to get at the locks. The latches were locked by a code. She turned the dials, trying her birth year, his birth year, the year they met, and on the fourth attempt- with the code being their anniversary year, the small clasps gave way and popped up.

"Ha!" Nadia opened the case. The case was filled with carefully wrapped stacks of cash. One hundred-dollar bills to be exact. She didn't know what she'd been expecting. Maybe documents, cocaine, pictures of some crime- but not crisp, new, wrapped stacks of money. The thought struck her that this could be what he died for. There was no way in Hell she was giving back to them. Her robe swishing about her ankles, she rushed into the kitchen, found her tiny cellphone and dialed Jake's number quickly.

Jake looked up from the screen of his desktop computer and reached for his phone. Seeing it was Nadia he answered with a smile. "Hello, beautiful."

"Get your ass over here now." She snapped. "Hurry!"

Before he could answer she hung up. He was under the wrong impression of what this was about. He shut down the computer and closed the notebook he had scribbled a few notes in before he walked across the hall to Nadia's. Jake paused for a moment before he knocked on the penthouse door.

Nadia opened the door quickly, her eyes wide and bright with a hysteria he'd never seen. Her appearance confused him, before he could inquire about what had happened, she grabbed his arm and yanked him inside.

"What is this about?" Jake watched her lock the door and pull the chain into place once more.

"Someone just came here looking for a briefcase that Dan supposedly had." She explained, her bright blue eyes were wide with excitement.

"Okay— and do you have any idea where this thing is?" Jake rubbed his chin as he did when he was thinking.

"Come in here." Nadia headed into the bedroom.

Jake's eyes were drawn immediately to the bed when he walked into the room. The case was opened, revealing stacks of cash neatly wrapped in paper bands. Some of them had been tossed out onto the bed by Nadia. Jake slowly picked up a stack and flipped through it. It was real or a very good fake, he thought.

"There must a million dollars here, Nadia." Jake thumbed through the stack again, his eyes raking over the cases contents. "Where did it come from?"

"Dan had this hidden under our bed when he died. I found it when I cleaned up to move here," she explained, dragging her red painted nails over the cash. "I didn't realize it was money until tonight. I had tossed this along with the rest of his belongings into the closet and I had no intention of opening it."

"My God," Jake picked up another stack. "You said someone was looking for it?"

"Yes, and he said he would be back tomorrow night about this time to collect it. Jake, this is probably what they killed Dan for. I can't just hand it over. I refuse." Nadia looked at Jake, her expression very serious.

Jake tossed the bills back in the case and went to look out the window out onto the bright twinkling city lights below. "I have so many questions. Starting with why they waited a year to come collect. They should have shown up before now. Second, how do you propose we hide this amount of money from them? They clearly know you have it."

"I won't fucking do it." Nadia began throwing the money back into the case and slammed it shut. "Dan gave his life for this and--"

Jake turned and pointed at the case, "This—this is probably not what they killed him for. Gangsters would have gotten their money before they killed him or right afterwards. They wouldn't have waited a year. You've lived in that townhouse since he died. Believe me, for this amount of money they'd have torn the house apart with you in it to get it. At the very least, they would have approached you about it far before this. There is something else going on here."

"What is it?" Nadia turned to him before jerking the case from the bed and sliding it back into the closet.

"Hell if I know. I am as confused as you are." Jake rubbed his face. He was much too sober for this.

"You said you knew Dan before he died. Don't you know anything?" Nadia was yelling now. Her frustration was bubbling over like the beginning of a volcano eruption.

"I did. You want the truth? He thought he was slick. He wasn't. He made mistakes that could have easily been avoided."

"Yes, yes, I know all that. But we can do this, right? You're smarter than Dan, aren't you? You made a deal with the devil and you're still alive." Nadia jabbed her finger at Jake. "I'm not giving them this money. They will have to kill me first."

"I'm alive for now, yes. I understand your feelings, Nadia, but I hardly think this piddling amount is worth it. You know?" Jake rolled his eyes.

"A million dollars is piddling to you?"

"I own a damned casino, that goes through here in a good weekend. Come on. But if you are so dead set, then fine. Don't give it back. We can call a friend of mine, and maybe just maybe we can get enough counterfeit bills to fill the case up. Then we can hope and pray that they think Dan was hoarding fake bills and they'll go away. If they don't they'll probably shoot up my casino but, at least we will have tried." Jake muttered, the last part he mumbled mostly to himself as he pulled out his cell phone and made the call. Before there was an answer he started out the door, "I'll be back."

Alan had gone up to his suite an hour before to rest when the casino slowed for the night. He had not fallen asleep yet, rather he was watching a crime show on television. He flinched when Jake knocked, but opened the door.

"Jake? Is everything okay?" Alan asked, pulling the door wider so his boss could come in.

"Did anyone suspicious come in tonight?" Jake stepped in and made his way into the main part of the room where the bed was.

"Quite a few. I mean-- what is this about?" Alan said with a shrug. "I didn't see anyone that appeared to want to start trouble."

"A man went up to Nadia's penthouse a little while ago looking for something her husband had." Jake explained. "Do you think you could pull up the video for me? I hate to ask since you're already off shift-"

"Yes, no problem." Alan grabbed his shoes. He was wearing only his tee shirt and shorts because he had planned to hit up the gym when if couldn't sleep.

"I feel so bad that you're caught up in this mess. This is far and beyond what I hired you for, and I will make sure I take you care of on your next check." Jake followed the shorter man out into the elevator.

"If it weren't for you I would still be on the street." Alan grinned. "I owe you everything. You're the only person who was ever willing to take a chance on me." Alan had a criminal record stemming from an incident he'd gotten caught up in a few years before. Once out of prison, no one would hire him to do more than sweep up and he'd been unable to afford a real place to live. Jake had hired him to clean up the pool and then offered him a full time security position and a suite. Alan had been at the Rock Star for nearly ten years now.

"Eh, I did what any decent human should have done." He chuckled. "You've been invaluable to me, Alan."

In the security room, Alan took a seat and started looking for the file from the hallway they lived on. Easily enough he found the footage, fast forwarding until he found the man walking from the room and to the elevator.

"There he is." Alan zoomed in then glanced up at Jake standing behind him. "He was down at the bar earlier, I think. I noticed his watch; it looked like it was all diamonds. Mafia type, you know? I always watch'em. But I thought he left a little before I headed up for the night."

Jake committed the man's face to memory. "Yeah, he is one to watch. He is supposed to be back tomorrow night around midnight to collect the briefcase he was looking for. I may need your help if the hand off goes wrong. If you can stop him in the lobby and call me that would be great."

"I will see what I can do. As requested I have three more guards coming on board tomorrow and I will make sure they get a look at this dude." Alan clicked an icon on the screen and printed the picture out for himself and the others.

"I better get back to Nadia," Jake said, stretching tiredly. "Get some rest, tomorrow promises to be eventful."

Petrie Del-Ray was a talented counterfeiter; he didn't just make cash either, he was talented in making fake credit cards, social security cards, and identification of all kinds. His neighbors and anyone who saw him believed he was a technician who fixed office equipment and casino machines. No one gave a second thought to Petrie's van being at casino's, banks, and other businesses at odd hours.

Jake ran into him as he came in pushing a large case on a dolly. Petrie's chubby face broke into a smile. "I hear you have a job for me?"

"I do," Jake walked with him onto the elevator with Petrie, who barely reached his shoulder. He was heavy bodied and spoke with a thick Bronx accent. He had been a boxer up North for several years, how he'd ended up here in Vegas no one but him knew. When the door closed Jake spoke again. "I need about a million dollars in fake $100 bills."

Petrie's eyes widened a bit at that. "That's gonna take a while. You have a good place for me to work?"

The elevator dinged and opened, Jake led Petrie down the deserted hallway to where Nadia stayed. His own penthouse was across the hallway. Alan lived in the first room after the elevators and the rest of the rooms were used only on occasion if a staff member needed a place to stay. Jake opened the door and held it wide so he could get in, "Is the penthouse okay?"

Jake watched his friend set up on the table without a word. Nadia watched with some curiosity as she leaned on the wall by the kitchen door with her mug of coffee in hand. Petrie looked over one of the bills Jake provided and nodded in approval.

Jake helped himself to some coffee in Nadia's kitchen. It was going to be a long night. Petrie flipped open the heavy laptop and tapped the keys rapidly. It took several minutes for him to get things the way he liked them. "A milli, you say? We are going to need about ten thousand bills."

"You have enough paper for that?" Jake tapped the packet of paper on the table by the laptop.

"Shit, no. Since you didn't tell me how much we were making tonight. I had no idea it was this much, I usually only deal with thousands at a time." Petrie explained, looking at the paper dubiously. "We can either go and get more, or we can print out the top half, which I have almost enough for, and the bottom stacks will be blank, we can cut up regular printer paper or notebook paper. I don't know if it will work if their pros."

Jake weighed his options. "I mean, they have no inkling that we even know what's in there so for all we know, Dan was shorting them with fakes."

"I suppose that's agreeable, but don't let them count it until they leave." Petrie started popping in fresh ink cartridges into the small printer before plugging in the cords to the laptop.

There was the constant whizzing sound of the printer as sheets of bills popped out of it. Each sheet could fit four bills, then Petrie would stack them to the side. When the first side was done he set up again and ran them through on the other side to print the backside, pausing to check and make sure things were turned the right way and lining up. The copies were good, but a pro might tell the difference immediately.

Petrie instructed Nadia in how to set up the cutter, which was a large paper cutter. "You take your time lining it up. It has to be perfect. I have this line here marked, make sure it's line up perfect."

As the stacks came out, Jake stacked them, making sure the bundles were tightly packs, and Nadia did the cutting.

"How much longer do you think, Petrie?" Jake asked. He watched Nadia lining up some papers on the big cutter and bringing down the handle to free the bills.

"It's a million dollars, Jake." Petrie never looked up from the printer. "I can't make this appear like magic. We haven't even discussed my cut for doing this."

"We're old friends, Petrie. You know I'm good for it," Jake chuckled. "That said, what do you think is fair?"

"For a million dollar print job? Shoot, I'm going to have to have about twenty grand." Petrie laid another stack of bills near Jake to.

"Sounds fair. How about you, Nadia? You think twenty is fair?" Jake called over his shoulder as she slipped the stack into the cutter.

"I suppose it's fair. This is a very good counterfeit." Nadia swiped the cuttings from the table and cutter into a garbage bag. "I will get the cash."

It was dawn when Petrie finished. He yawned as he packed the printer and cutter away. "Is that all you need from me this time, Jake?"

Jake nodded and passed him a thick envelope. "For now. Always a pleasure doing business with you."

Petrie tucked the money in his lap top bag and pushed the case out on the dolly. "Likewise. You two be safe."

When Jake returned to where Nadia sat in the living room, the curtains behind her were glowing a pale pink in the sun rise. "I should put the cash in the case and we should get some rest I guess. Alan is watching for that fellow and he will detain him if he can. I'll take the money down to him. You stay out of it."

"But, Jake--"

"Dan didn't listen to me and look what fucking happened. Don't be like Dan," Jake said gruffly, turning to put the faked bills into the case.

Nadia handed him stack after stack until the case was full and Jake locked it. When the task was done, she sighed. "I'm exhausted."

"Me too," Jake looked down at her, his molten brown eyes softening a bit. "Maybe I should stay and make sure you rest."

She laughed and leaned against him, "I don't think we'd get a lot of rest if you stayed."

"Bah, who needs rest?" Jake laughed sleepily. Suddenly he wasn't all that tired when he leaned in to kiss her. His fingertips ghosted her arms, raising goosebumps in their wake. He felt her shudder and lean into the kiss willingly.

"I'm not tired anymore," Nadia said as she pulled Jake into her bedroom with a mischievous grin.

At the foot of the bed, Jake swept the sheer silk robe off her shoulders; it slid down her arms to the floor with a barely audible rustle. Under it was a matching silk nightgown that barely contained her voluptuous cleavage. The robe had covered just enough of it to appear somewhat modest before. The aquamarine blue silk made her eyes appear almost luminescent blue.

Nadia wasted no time in undressing Jake as well. Her fingers pulled the tee shirt he was wearing over his head and tossed it somewhere across the room. His upper body was hard with muscle under smooth tanned skin, she ran her hands over his chest, admiring the hardness there before they dipped lower. Jake made no move to stop her; rather he just chuckled as she stripped his slacks down. As she expected he wore no underwear, and he was already partly aroused.

Jake let go of a breath he didn't know he had been holding when she touched his heated manhood. Instead, he leaned in to kiss her again, tasting the sweet softness of her lips. It was a sharp contrast to how he always remembered her kiss to taste like vodka, lime, and salt. He didn't dislike either.

His fingers slid under the straps of her night gown and slipped it off her creamy smooth shoulders. It pooled to the floor in a silent silken puddle. "I like this color on you, Nadia."

"I'll wear it more often," she breathed, gasping when his lips moved to her neck again. Jake had somehow known all of her weaknesses from the first time they had touched. She had no need to show him what she liked.

He didn't answer, but he did push her playfully back into the bed. Her knees gave way against the edge and she fell onto the cool smooth comforter, pulling him down too. Jake's mouth found her breasts, teasing each nipple into a throbbing peak. Her breasts had always hypnotized him, they were rounded full, he imagined her bra size contained more than one D. He pinned her hands at her side as he tasted her breasts and the valley's between. His warm tongue swiped down to her navel, his hands and weight holding her captive.

Roughly, he let her hands go and shoved her legs back and wide apart. Nadia dug her nails into the comforter as his warm mouth found her core. He was so good at this, and he enjoyed when she returned the favor, but he never insisted she do it. She squirmed slightly, her pleasure loud and clear.

He stopped before she finished, his own need pressing and near painful. Nadia ran her fingers through his unusually long platinum hair, enjoying the silken waves of it pouring over her hand and falling forward over his shoulder to tickle her breasts and collarbone. Nadia, desperate for him to fill her, wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. He slid into her effortlessly, as though their bodies had been molded together.

Nadia rolled her hips, even under Jake's weight she found it seamless to take him and move. Her inner walls pulsing and pulling him to a climax. In this state of exhausted arousal he could not hold off as long as he usually did, making sure she was shining with sweat and well satisfied before he finished himself.

Her fingers untangled from his hair and dug into his bare back, leaving red stripes in her passion. Nadia came to her own climax. She said something he couldn't hear over the hum of his orgasm in his own ears. Had she said she loved him? Panting, his upper body damp with perspiration, Jake pulled away from her and lay beside her on the bed. He decided not to ask questions and ruin the moment when she rested her head on his thick shoulder.

The sound of his phone somewhere in the room startled Jake awake. For a moment he couldn't recall where he was, and then he plunged from the bed in search of his phone. He found it in his pants, which Nadia had tossed cross the room. He located it just in time.

"Hello?" He replied, trying to sound like he wasn't standing naked in someone else's bedroom half asleep and dazed.

The rouse didn't work, Alan knew where he was and had been all day. "I am going on lunch and I have some errands to run. The new security recruits show up today."

"Lunch already?" Jake looked around for the clock, which was on the floor at an odd angle between the bedside table and the bed. It was after one in the afternoon. "So it is."

"Yeah, I figured you slept in since you didn't get much sleep last night. Take your time. Larry, the new guy is watching the monitors and there shouldn't be a problem."

"I'll see you later this afternoon then, make sure you're here when our visitor comes." Jake reminded him.

"Sure thing," Alan said before hanging up.

Jake looked at Nadia, asleep still. She hadn't even moved. He quickly pulled on his pants and shirt before rushing out into the kitchen to get the briefcase.

The cash room was a small hidden closet in Jake's office. Petrie had reinforced the door a long time ago. In here he kept the large amounts of cash that were paid out in winnings should someone hit a jackpot, and excess cash that the dealers were not comfortable having on the floor. He locked the door behind him when he went into his office and opened the cash room. The smell of money hit his nose as soon as the door cracked, and his toe bumped a bucket of chips as he walked in. He put the case on a shelf and closed the cash room again, as if someone threatened to barge in and grab everything in the cash room. It had never been robbed, incidentally.

Jake's heart was pumping, he knew coffee was a bad idea. Still, he headed out through the casino main lobby and into the hot mid day sun. Clouds in the distance promised rain, a temporary relief, the humidity afterward would be stifling. Jake wasn't really watching where he was going, he was surprised he made it to the coffee shop without bumping into someone or something.

The lady at the cash register smiled at him. "The usual, Jake? You're running late today— wild night?"

He smiled tiredly, "Yes and I suppose you could say that."

"Enjoy your coffee, sweetie," she said as he made his way over to a table. He sat down with a sigh and relaxed. But he didn't fully relax, he wasn't sure he ever would again. This thing with Nadia had become interesting, especially with her literally across the hall. Also, he was sure she had whispered 'I love you' when they were making love earlier. She'd never done that before no matter how good the sex had been. If truth were told, he loved Nadia too and had for a while now.

The lady from the cash register set his coffee in front of him, noting his spaced out expression. She assumed him hungover, it wasn't the first time she'd seen him like that. Jake barely saw her. He nodded automatically.

Nadia awakened to find Jake gone. No shock, they never woke up together. She showered and went looking for him. On a hunch, she found him at the coffee shop a few minutes later.

"You look like something the cat dragged in," Nadia said as she sat with him without invitation. Her sudden appearance had surprised him.

"Good afternoon, beautiful." He flashed her a warm smile. Even in yoga pants and a tank top, she was beautiful to him. "What brings you out?"

"The case. You know where it is?" She hissed, leaning closer.

"Yes, I have it in my vault. No worries," he said, stirring sugar into his coffee.

"Good," Nadia said with certain relief. "I did a little reading this morning, and I found out there is a shop in town that handles spiritual issues. They sell stuff to repel demons and curses."

He raised an eyebrow. "I saw that on-line, I didn't believe those places existed until now. Do you think it would be worth a visit to see if perhaps we could get holy water at the least? I read we needed that but I don't have a clue how to go about getting or making it."

"You boil the hell out of it," Nadia laughed, her laughter like the tinkling of bells as she accepted the cup of coffee from the lady who had brought Jake's coffee over.

"That joke is awful," Jake gave her a withered look but could not resist a chuckle himself. The caffeine was kicking in, and slowly he was coming awake. "You know where this shop is?"

Nadia nodded, "Yes, I do. We should drive there though. We can take my car."

The shop Nadia spoke of was on the West side of Vegas in a strip mall built circa the seventies. This was the ghetto side of Vegas where homeless people pushed stolen shopping carts with their belongings in them and sketchy looking people made their way along the dirty street. Nadia and Jake were getting some strange looks, wondering why such a nice car would be here. The store itself had no sign. It was dank and dirty yellow on the outside, the windows blacked out with poster board. The smell of incense, herbs, and cinnamon brooms that hung drying from the store awning and around the door mingled with the smell of hot asphalt. Jake thought it was quite overwhelming.

He made a face at Nadia as they stepped around the front of the SUV. "I feel like some old man in here is gonna try to sell me something small and furry that I shouldn't feed after midnight."

Nadia laughed again, and she'd lost count of how many times he made her laugh in the last few days. "Oh, please. Now come in here."

The inside of the shop smelled as strongly as the outside but without the asphalt so it was bearable. The air was heavy with thick incense smoke. The heavy smoke blended with the scent of homemade oils, candles, and herbs until he couldn't distinguish what it was he was actually smelling. Colorful stones lined shelf after shelf, tapestries with peace signs and psychedelic art covered the walls. Various items hung from the ceiling, Jake had to duck the handmade tassels and wind chimes.

Nadia took little notice and went to the back counter where an older lady sat with a morbidly obese black cat. "Excuse me, do you have holy water?"

The elderly woman stood, focusing on Jake. "For him?"

"Yes, I suppose so. We need to cleanse--"

"He will need a lot more than a cleanse to help him," she said in a raspy voice. Her eyes narrowed. "I have what you need. Wait here."

Jake, who had heard the exchange, came closer to Nadia. "That was creepy."

Nadia nodded. "I hope she has something to help."

When the woman returned, she carried a bottle of water, a strand of braided grass, and 3 bundles of what looked like dried grass. She sat the items on the counter and proceeded, "This—this is very powerful. If you think you see the demon after you, spray him with this. Put it in a spray bottle. It won't stop them but it will stun them enough for you to get away. Hang this sweet grass up wherever you live, it will repel evil. Be sure to sage your homes and around them with this sage to keep dark forces. Some are strong enough to get through it, but it will buy you time."

Jake nodded and handed her a crispy fifty. "Keep the change. Thank you very much."

"Good luck to you both. You will need it." She watched them leave. She'd sensed the demonic aura around Jake, marking him for demons to find. She didn't know the whole story, but she could guess he'd made an ill fated deal.

Jake found Alan in his office watching the monitors just after the night crowd started to come in off the streets. He handed his security guard a small spray bottle. Alan studied it for a moment, sniffing the cap and then looking up at Jake for an answer.

"That's holy water or something. If you see a demon— squirt him. It won't kill 'em but it will give us time to get away," Jake explained as he looked through messages on his desk. He didn't have the time or energy to return all these calls.

Alan was a skeptic but in the last few days he was willing to believe anything. "You think they might come after us inside then?"

"I know they will. The slime balls have probably already gotten in somehow. I don't want you to get hurt. It won't be long until our friend returns for the case." Jake tossed some papers into the trash.

The phone beside Alan jangled, Alan reached for it automatically. "Hello?"

"There is a very large dog running loose on the fifth floor," a woman on the other end said, her voice was ear piercing in her terror. "I thought this was a pet free establishment? This thing is the size of a Shetland pony."

"We are, ma'am." Alan flicked the mouse, making the screen come to life and began moving the camera around to glimpse what she meant. "We will handle this right away."

"Giant dog?" Jake crossed the room in three steps, peering at the screens.

"That's what she said, I don't see it over here, let's hit this camera- oh, there he is. Wow, he is as big as a pony." Alan's brow creased at the sight. The large black canine was the largest he had ever seen. It drifted down the corridor, sniffing the bottom of each door and then stopped to test the air.

"Come on," Jake bolted from the office, Alan on his heels. "We got to get to that damn thing before it gets to Nadia. It will use her to get me."

"Use her? As in a hostage?" Alan bolted up the stairs behind Jake who had forgone the elevator and gone straight up the stairwells.

"That's a hell hound," Jake paused on the third floor landing and glanced down at Alan, who was slightly behind. Alan blanched and fought down stifling fear that rose in his throat. "Smell that burned match smell? Sulfur. They smell like Sulfur."

"Fuck."

Jake pushed open the door in the fifth floor stairwell as quietly as he could. With Alan on his heels he raced down the corridor and turned right. Nothing. It had to be on the other side, the halls formed a rectangle around the elevator shaft. Peeking around the corner he saw nothing.

"It's around the next corner," Jake whispered, his eyes locked ahead expecting to see the beast lunge out at any moment.

Alan felt a hot breath on the small of his back and stiffened. "Or it's behind us."

Jake's eyes widened, he spun to face the dog. It was there glowering at them with red eyes. "Don't move, it doesn't want you."

"I don't intend to." Alan pressed against the wall. The dog was well past his waist, it reeked. It was even larger than the wolves he had seen camping once in Colorado.

The beast spared no glance at Alan. Its focus was on Jake. It growled low, a vibration felt rather than heard. The two had locked gazes and Jake refused to show fear even though a hell hound, maybe even this one, had claimed the life of a friend earlier in the week.

"I'm not going with you," he said defiantly. "Sorry to disappoint."

The dog growled, baring fangs as long as a man's finger in reply. It advanced.

Jake's hand slipped towards his pocket as the same moment the hound lunged. Alan moved with the reflexes of a western gun fighter, spritzing the hound with the holy water from the spray bottle. The hound gave a startled yelp and skittered sideways, the area where the spray hit burst into flames. It looked back with a snarl as it faded away like a ghost.

Jake finally exhaled. "Good reflex, Alan. Remind me when this is over to buy you a house and a new car."

"I'll just take the car. A Lamborghini," Alan chuckled nervously. His heart was still threatening to tear out of his chest.

"I need a drink," Jake sighed and turned to hit the elevator button.