Read [Southern Arcana 3.0] Deadlock for Free Online Page B

dinner with Miguel. He wanted to go meet them, and I don’t have the energy for it tonight.”
    Her friend’s blue eyes clouded with sympathy. “If he calls back, I’ll tell him to go fu—”
    Carmen cut in. “If he calls back, I’ll talk to him.” She tilted her beer bottle from side to side, swirling the amber liquid. “Maybe this time, I can make him understand.”
    And then he could go home, and she could stop wondering if every innocuous dinner invitation from her baby brother wasn’t so innocuous, after all.

    Jackson hurried through the revolving door and skidded to a stop on the polished marble floor before turning to hold up both hands. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
    Alec stopped, more so he wouldn’t have to run Jackson over than out of any desire to discuss his plan. “No, I’m pretty damn sure I don’t, but it has to be done.”
    “Okay, shit.” Jackson glanced around. “Wait here. I’ll go find out which room we’re hitting.”
    Jackson sauntered off toward the front desk, his best lady-killing grin fixed firmly in place, and Alec tried not to look too closely at his surroundings. Harrah’s wasn’t his sort of place—this kind of opulence tended to give him unpleasant flashbacks to childhood and his mother’s rigid expectations of class and style. Heidi hadn’t cared for blind consumerism either—given two quarters, she’d donate one to charity.
    But he’d brought her here. Once, just after she’d made her first major art sale to a private collector. The suite had cost more than she’d been paid, but Alec took the money from his inheritance and considered it well spent. They’d still been dating then, and he’d been in town looking to buy some land in the one city that ignored wolf politics. He’d been thinking about marrying her.
    It had taken another year to convince her marriage didn’t have to mean giving in to society’s institutionalization of love. She’d gotten her hippie barefoot wedding, and he’d gotten tangible proof of what instinct had already decided—that she should be his.
    And she was. For four years.
    There should have been ghosts here, but instead it was gilded and shiny and so bright and cheerful it set his teeth on edge. He wanted to be gone, not chasing down leads that would bring him face-to-face with the sort of man who valued bloodlines and legacy and all the broken shit in their godawful world.
    You wanted to be the boss. Suck it up.
    Alec turned to check on Jackson’s progress with the girl behind the counter. He couldn’t quite make out the words they exchanged, but Jackson’s easy smile never slipped, even when she picked up the phone and dialed.
    After a moment, she dropped the receiver and nodded, and Jackson blew out a deep breath as he motioned for Alec to join him. “No luck getting the room number until I dropped your name. She called up, and lo and behold—Cesar Mendoza wants to see you.”
    That was about as surprising as ice in the arctic. “Great.” Now he knows we’re coming.
    “Sorry, man. The charm usually works, but the woman was stone cold.”
    “Charm’s never going to work again, Holt. Women can tell you’re a tamed man.”
    “Then I need to either get smarter or find another line of work.”
    “You’ll manage.” Alec jabbed the call button on the elevator and the doors slid open. “You sure you want to come up with me? They may not be friendly.”
    Jackson stepped in, pressed the button for the top floor and shoved his hands in his pockets as he leaned against one side of the car. “All the more reason for you not to go alone. If that kid was telling the truth about the Mendozas’ involvement, there’ll be hell to pay. They might try to shut you up.”
    They’d argued about it for most of the drive. Once he’d gotten good and scared, their prisoner had been all too happy to start pointing fingers. Too happy being the key words—anyone betraying the Mendozas should have been pissing himself at the