Las Vegas
Present Time
“Molly, I should really kick your ass.”
Kaine walked the Vegas strip, blinking as the brilliance of the city’s neon lights grew violent before his drug-hazed vision.
“Molly isn’t here, bro, she’s back at Priam’s trying to pick up the trail.” Kaine glared at the giant at his side, refusing to withdraw his words.
“If you were the guinea pig here, Roman, you’d be right with me, planting those dogs of yours in her cute little leather clad butt.” A little voice in Kaine’s mind was telling him to shut up. Not only was he slurring his speech, he was growing combative, and while he stood a cool six foot four in his bare feet, the man next to him topped six nine on a good day. On a bad day, he was taller. Kaine wasn’t sure why that was. One of the perks of being a shape-shifter, he supposed. Tonight, Roman soared even higher, his feet encased in some sort of shit-kicking knee-high leather lace-ups. As Roman pretty much lacked any facial expression at any time, Kaine couldn’t tell if he was getting pissed off.
“I don’t know what this shit’s doing to me, but my eyes are burning.”
“So put your glasses on.”
Simple solution, perhaps he should have thought of that himself. Kaine dug around in the pockets of his leather vest, hands fumbling in the leather knuckle gloves he was sporting. He put the shades on and was immediately soothed by the muting of the neon. Now if he could just get rid of the smells and sounds of this shit-pit. God! He hated Vegas! He stumbled as a human bumped into him; whirling around, he glared at the offender’s retreating back. He was clipped again, this time a young man jumped back, hands up in surrender when faced by a snarling, leather-clad Kaine.
He knew he looked badass, he felt pretty edgy as well. Kaine was okay with the leather pants, but Molly had tricked him out like a Leather Daddy, and the aura that emanated from him triggered fear in most of the humans he encountered, cranking his agitation even higher. Then there were those who liked it…that’s what was bothering him now. Bursts of fear and arousal floating into his nostrils and melting over his tongue like some perverse aperitif. Of course, he was the lure in this damn operation. Molly and Roman owed him big time for this.
