Kept by Shawntelle Madison

Then he said, “You better be as good as you look.”
    Jack’s frown filled his whole face when he met up with us later that night. Maybe his life as a thug and working for Roscoe was the reason he was so talkative and cheerful.
    None of us said a single word as we followed him from the bar and then out of the casino. The streets of Atlantic City around the Golden Nugget Casino buzzed with life. People walked along the street holding drinks in their hands, holding conversations with their friends. The stench of cigarettes and cheap beer clung to their clothes. Ugh. To make matters worse, we passed a man who staggered toward us after he’d upchucked on the sidewalk. A part of me was grateful I’d mostly missed out on that particular tourist attraction. The only thing I did enjoy was the succulent scent of fine dining. We’d eaten a light meal while waiting to meet up with Jack, but we hadn’t made any plans for a real dinner. Alex and I had been far too worried about Dad to think about that.
    Jack led us three blocks down the street before we reached the entrance to the Jersey Juniper Resort. This place wasn’t as large as the Golden Saddle, but it had just as many customers. Supernaturals swarmed as both customers and staff. The entryway beckoned to us with obnoxious maroon and dark pink lights. Two unfortunate souls, both of them dressed in costumes from the latest hit Broadway show, passed out flyers and tried togenerate excitement for their show with an elaborate singing routine.
    Alex took the lead into the hotel while Thorn brought up the rear. I followed my brother with my arms crossed, hoping I wouldn’t come into contact with anyone. Jack led us down several corridors in the hotel before we finally came to a door labeled FACILITIES. The scent of wolves lingered here from one corner to another. Their musk filled my nostrils and made me wonder which pack controlled this area. The last I’d heard, the Atlantic City pack had severed into several factions after its leaders had quarreled. I wasn’t sure if one of the rival packs held Dad’s debt or if it was held by a single person. The name Roscoe didn’t ring a bell, so I had no idea what we were about to face.
    From the locked door we walked down several flights of stairs until we reached the facilities floor. We didn’t run into any maintenance employees, so no one stopped us before we reached the final set of doors. Two burly guards stood in front of them. I froze. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen guns that big before, but seeing two men as large as my father holding them made me twitch in fear. Like my dad, the guards were thickset—muscle built on muscle. The guns they held were most likely to ward off any curious humans, but from the way they softly growled at us, they saw us as a threat, too, even with Jack as a tagalong.
    Jack’s hand rose. “They’re with me. Old Leslie cleared them to see Roscoe.”
    The guards parted and reluctantly allowed us to pass. The room we entered looked like I could fit my whole cottage inside it. From one end to the other, it was a palace for men who liked to play: pinball machines, luxurious black lounge chairs, a full bar. Not far from the pinball machines sat a large desk with a massive screen. The whole setup screamed gamer.
    The only thing that seemed off about the room was the stacks of crates behind the pinball machines. Their strong metallic scent led me to suspect Roscoe’s boxes stored weapons, not holiday cheer like mine.
    But the room wasn’t relatively empty of people. Only a few sets of eyes flicked in our direction. Jack led us all the way down to the end of the room, where a man sat at the desk playing on a computer. When you thought about crime rings and gangsters, you didn’t picture a guy around my dad’s age playing a computer game. At least I didn’t. I tilted my head slightly to the side to get a better view of the computer screen. A dark-haired man with a beak-like nose was playing World of