Fortune

  The older the money, the more valued the man and his lion’s share.

  After Ariela’s abduction at Lane Livingston’s Catwalk premiere, Lane returns to the Valley of Fire hoping demands will soon be made regarding Ariela’s possible release. Angst-ridden, he turns to a former submissive and Ariela catches him in the throes of passion. Distraught over Lane’s behavior, Ariela sets some ground rules.

  Lane Livingston loves his mate but he won’t let her run over him. Ariela isn’t one to share even if a dominant man expects more liberal freedoms. Ariela’s mates willingly share her due to the demanding lioness breeding bouts and she expects mutual understanding. After forgiving Lane for his indiscretions, Ariela and Lane mate for the first time. As their fiery passion burns wild, Ariela senses her other mates slipping away.

  Jagger, Leon, and Sanchez go to the desert in hopes of finding Ariela but when they discover Ariela at Lane’s home, they realize she is in awe of her new mate. Ariela is pregnant with Lane’s child and is inexplicably drawn to him, something Lane Livingston knew would happen all along. In fact, he planned for it.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Fortune

  Copyright © 2014 Destiny Blaine

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-0018-7

  Cover art by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

  Look for us online at:

  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Fortune

  Rise to Power, Search for Pride 4

  By

  Destiny Blaine

  Dedication

  For Jay and Tina

  Thank you for your ongoing support!

  Chapter One

  “I didn’t ask if you could find her! And I’m not calling so I can listen to your excuses! The LVPD police chief says you’re the best in Vegas so by God prove it. Find Ariela now before I tarnish that silver-plated reputation you cherish so much!”

  Lane wondered if this guy Peterson even had enough brains in his head to realize he’d been insulted. If so, maybe he’d take a personal oath to prove Lane wrong.

  “Mr. Livingston, I understand you’re concerned, but realize we have other cases to work. While finding Ariela is a high priority, we also have other missing persons cases and we’re shorthanded.”

  “Apparently you’re dumber than you sound. Don’t cut off the hand that feeds you, because the fingers attached have powerful people on speed dial. Find Ariela and not only will you be the most sought out private investigator in the state, but you will also command top price for your services. I’ll personally toss in a hundred grand to the investigator who brings her home safely.”

  Lane Livingston paced the length of his massive living room and turned his full attention to his infinity swimming pool. He stilled at a memory. His mind’s eye tossed him back into a coveted past with a taunting vengeance.

  He remembered the day he’d first seen Ariela in her human form, the way her sultry body had undulated as she’d pushed her pussy up against his whirlpool jets in an effort to satisfy herself. No other woman had ever held him so captivated. No other woman had ever made him so crazy with riveting lust.

  To make matters worse, other than a little teasing here or there, he hadn’t enjoyed an intimate encounter with his mate. Since the day they’d first met, his longing had intensified. His need to have her with him had become almost intolerable.

  “Mr. Livingston? Are you still there?”

  He clutched the phone to his ear. “Don’t call me until you have some news. I want Ariela here by tomorrow afternoon!”

  “Sir that’s an unreasonable demand. Jagger—her uh…husband—has the whole town working on this and I can assure you most everyone in law enforcement, not to mention those of us in the private sector, will be glad when we can report to both of you with positive news.”

  “You listen to me asshole and you listen well! No one, and I mean no one, is to know when you find her. You bring her straight to me and you do not report any findings to Jagger or anyone else at Pride’s Casino. Are we clear?”

  There was a long silence.

  “I said are we clear?”

  “Yes, Mr. Livingston.”

  Lane disconnected the call and tucked his phone in his front pocket. He glared at his swimming pool, wishing he could go back to that one moment when he’d had Ariela within his reach. He would’ve pulled her out of the water, bracketed his arms around her waist, and promised to keep her safe. He would’ve explained more about the langle’s heritage and the reason why they were bound together by a forceful turn of destiny’s hand, a fated union they could not escape or deny.

  He ground his teeth at the thought. His inner lion raged. The other beasts living inside him pranced at the opportunity. They were dying to be free, desperate to run through the desert in search of prey, on the hunt for another langle, a shifter like Lane.

  He needed to locate the langle responsible for abducting Ariela. He wanted to understand his motives. It was rare when one langle would risk the dangers of shifting and wearing another langle’s face. Greatly frowned upon by those of the same breed, most would fear the consequences. Langles believed it was a carnal sin to wear the face of another langle, the chosen shifter.

  Who had the intelligence needed to pull off such a deed? More importantly, Lane wanted to find out who had the nerve! Who would’ve gone to Catwalk’s premiere and risked shifting into Lane’s human form in an effort to deceive his mate!

  His inner beasts rumbled. He could almost hear the locking of jowls, the gnashing of teeth. As much as Lane wanted to free one of his more dangerous counterparts, he forced himself to remain in his human form. He needed to stand ready and prepare to help with the investigation if someone called upon him to answer questions.

  In a recent phone conversation, one of Ariela’s other mates had assured Lane of her safety. Leon, a shifter-wizard, had seen just enough of the future to believe Ariela would be safe again. When he’d called Lane, he had been optimistic and had said she would soon return.

  What bothered Lane was what Leon hadn’t stated. He had said he couldn’t say for sure who was holding her captive. He couldn’t be certain of what she’d endured over the last two weeks.

  “Damn it!” Lane felt helpless. When had he ever relied upon anyone for information? His love for Ariela had placed them both at a disadvantage. Why hadn’t he taken protective measures to ensure her safety? Why hadn’t he guarded her with his own life?

  The langle-wizards seemingly possessed more curses than gifts. They could shift into any animal, object, another shifter or any human being, and they were decisively more intuitive than other shifters, but when they fell in love they faced shortcomings where their true mates were concerned, particularly before they were joined as one.


  Until their first mating, a langle couldn’t predict the future if that future had anything to do with their chosen one. What Lane knew about his mate, he’d learned through images he’d seen throughout his lifetime, long before he’d even believed in the possibility of love.

  Langles fortunate enough to have been coached by others like them had certain benefits in that they were taught to pay attention to all imagery and note specifics, even the smallest of details on the chance some of those particulars later involved their chosen mate. As a young shifter, Lane had been too much of a playboy to realize what some of those illusions had represented. Over the last few days, he’d wracked his brain trying to remember important data, information that others would’ve deemed most necessary.

  Not one to dwell on any weakness, Lane finally accepted the facts. He was in love with a woman he couldn’t help. He should’ve mated with her when he’d had the chance. Ultimately, his mistake would cost him. He couldn’t predict the outcome regarding Ariela’s abduction.

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he practically ripped the device away from his slacks. “Yes?”

  “Lane? Leon.” Leon Casanova, a shifter-wizard—but not a langle, thank God—had provided regular updates but had been too evasive with him in a recent conversation. He’d said he’d seen the forthcoming days with Ariela, Lane, and her other ‘mates,’ but he wouldn’t share specifics about the vision. Even with probing, Lane had come up empty-handed.

  “We’ve been reviewing some tapes. I want to run something by you. Is there any way Shoc or Barlo Matheson could still be alive?”

  “Alive?” The information on their deaths raced through Lane’s head.

  “Yes. Is it possible?”

  “Anything is possible with langles.” He paused as he considered the likelihood. “The whole world watched in horror as Barlo met his demise. From what you have told me and from what I remember of the reported news at the time, Sanchez had been drugged, but surely he would know who he’d killed. As far as that goes, he also killed Shoc. I would attest to that fact. No, he didn’t mean to kill him, but none of that is important now. Sanchez should be able to sense another shifter’s demise.”

  “How exactly?” Sanchez spoke up, indicating all three of Ariela’s other mates were likely on the call.

  Lane blew out a hard breath and thought of other situations where shifters had been involved in like-breed murders. “That’s a tough one to explain. Most of what I can tell you is a mix of rumors and assumptions. Taking a langle’s life would undoubtedly leave a typical shifter with increased strength.”

  “I’m stronger but—”

  “But that doesn’t necessarily mean you killed the langle you thought you killed.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Sanchez could’ve indeed killed another langle and if his physical strength has changed considerably over the last few weeks then he undoubtedly killed a langle.”

  “Doesn’t mean he killed Shoc or Barlo though. Right?”

  “Exactly. Money talks and not all langles are wealthy. Many of them ran through large inheritances in the second generation, leaving behind very poor offspring.”

  “What’s your point?” Jagger spoke up.

  “My point is, Jagger, a good dozen or more langles would do anything for instant wealth, even if there were specific dangers involved. What makes you think Barlo and Shoc are still living?”

  “A hunch,” Leon replied.

  Lane didn’t believe him. Leon was too proud to call on a mere hunch.

  “If your hunch is validated with facts at any point, give me a call. Until then, I’ll see what I can find out about Shoc. My money would be on Shoc using this sort of trickery.

  “Barlo was a successful businessman. He owned a debt-free casino regardless of what Shoc produced after his death to suggest otherwise. I’d go as far as saying Barlo Matheson still had his first earned dime.”

  “He’s right,” Leon said. “If either one of the Matheson brothers devised a plan backed by trickery and financial reward, it would’ve been Shoc.”

  “Sanchez, did you spend enough time with either one of the Mathesons to rely on your sense of smell? Do you suspect either one of them of using another langle?”

  “I don’t know.” Sanchez was a character of few words. Even if he suspected foul play, Jagger and Leon would have to drag him through an intense interrogation to find out what he thought. He wasn’t confident enough to second-guess suspicions when evidence existed to contradict anything he might present as a possible scenario.

  Leon said, “So I’m clear, you think it is possible for a langle to hire another langle to stand in for him?”

  “Yes. It’s certainly a possibility.”

  “What about death?” Jagger asked. “Wouldn’t most langles return to their first form if they were killed during one of these stunts?”

  “No. They could die with any masked face they’d used within the last twenty-four hours.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. A friend of mine was convinced his wife was cheating on him. He posed as the mailman, the lover he thought she had, and even a palm tree. When the lover found out about it, he went to his home and killed him. The detectives working the crime scene found traces of blood and a dead palm tree in the center of his condo.”

  “Bizarre,” Sanchez muttered.

  “Proves our suspicions could be accurate,” Leon said. “I’ll put something together and get back with you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Leon. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” Lane ended the call and slipped his phone in his pocket again.

  Maybe Leon was on to something and could shine a light on Ariela’s assailant soon. Whatever lead he was following might be a legitimate thread to pursue. The sooner Leon let Lane in on their suspicions, the sooner he could call for assistance.

  Lane frowned at the thought. Assistance was the problem. Jagger likely had a world of information to go on but he wanted to handle Ariela’s abduction himself.

  Ariela’s mates were protective to a fault and since they didn’t trust Lane as completely as they trusted one another, they wouldn’t share the more pertinent data he needed. If anything happened to Ariela, Lane would later hold it against them.

  “Mr. Livingston?” Cara March, a former submissive still working under contract, entered the room. “Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?”

  Lane eyed her suspiciously then, wondering why she was dressed as she’d often dressed when she’d been under contract as his submissive, not as an employee. Wearing a short leather skirt, a sleeveless leather vest, and a black choker with several silver spikes, she looked like a woman ready for the club.

  His submissives dressed according to his requirements and back when they’d worn his collars, he’d often asked them to dress provocatively. Slutty might have been a more fitting word. He didn’t necessarily enjoy women who looked as if they were a little bit on the trashy side but he believed in making a statement, one which others would later remember when Ariela was on his arm.

  Men in Lane’s position earned their experience from women of varied backgrounds but when choosing a woman to bear children, true gentlemen chose wisely. In his mind the mother of his children would be well respected because others would know Lane had only committed to her because she was a lady, a woman worthy of wearing the title of his woman, his children’s mother.

  “Mr. Livingston, I’m happy to accommodate you. Whatever needs you have, I’m here to serve you.” Cara patiently waited for a reply.

  He took a moment to appreciate the submissive before him. While Cara had quite a roster of past partners, he had always enjoyed her oral talents. At one time, Lane had taken several submissives for pleasure and training. When Cara had been under formal contract, two other submissives had worn his collars of consideration, too. All three had specific tasks to perform.

  After he spent some time with Ariela, h
e’d released his subs, deciding to keep two of them on as fulltime housekeepers. It had been difficult to let them go entirely, based on his overzealous sex drive, a growing problem after he and Ariela had actually enjoyed some tense private moments.

  “Sir?”

  “No, Cara. Thank you.” He balked at the thought of enjoying Cara when the woman he wanted, the woman he needed, was out there somewhere with another langle, a powerful beast hell-bent on using Ariela to leverage a manipulative attack on either Lane or Jagger, or perhaps both.

  Lane turned to the floor to ceiling windows once more. He’d always loved the view there. The Valley of Fire was less than an hour from Vegas and yet when visitors traveled to Nevada, they seldom ventured beyond the downtown area or the famed Strip.

  The colorful landscape, while soothing to Lane, had a mysterious component to it as well. From a distance or an aerial view, the state park looked a bit ordinary with its winding roads, tan and brown paths, and splotches of greenery. Upon closer inspection, one quickly determined the trickery in distant views. Up close, the Valley of Fire was extraordinary, with its majestic hills, cluster of red stone formations, and interesting backdrops seemingly unmatched by comparison to other spectacular settings.

  In many ways the Valley of Fire reminded Lane of his lovely Ariela. From afar, Ariela might appear ordinary to the average person, but she was quite extraordinary up close and personal.

  Beauty or beast, her lioness and human forms were exquisite. Her golden cat coat was adorned with tan sprinkles that glimmered like gems when struck by the sun. Her long and lean body was beautiful in action, sultry in movement and confident in form.

  While her lioness body appeared striking and exceptional, her human counterpart paled in comparison upon first look. She didn’t walk with a vixen’s sway, but she carried herself with confidence suggestive of a woman with power and position. She most likely understood others viewed her as a woman with stature.