Sucker Bet (5 page)

God, they were both fucking morons. That's all Donatelli could think as he stared at his two principal bodyguards, Smith and Williams. Maybe he should just kill them both and start over from scratch. Surely he could find better staff if he discreetly advertised.

"Explain to me again how it was possible for Ringo to enter a locked room that the two of you were standing in front of?" Donatelli sipped blood from a wine goblet on the sofa in his hotel suite and glanced down at his cell phone. No missed calls. He was starting to get impatient with his ex-wife, Gwenna. She should at least have the courtesy to call him back. Where the hell were people's manners these days? And he was still absolutely stunned that she had used such a foul curse word with him. That was completely unlike Gwenna and, he had to say, rather unbecoming.

Smith cleared his throat. "Well. We thought he was allowed to go in there. He said he was. So we sort of let him in."

"And just stood there while he walked off with a week's supply of heroin?"

"I guess so."

"That was several grand worth of drugs." Like money grew on goddamn palm trees. Donatelli strove for patience. Not his strong suit. Never had been. He checked his phone screen again before he even realized what he was doing. Damn it. He felt his temper rising and surging, settling to pound at his temple. Where the fuck was Gwenna and why wouldn't she talk to him?

"We didn't…"

That set him over the edge. "You didn't know. I know. Because you're both fucking idiots." He pinned them with a hard stare. "Go tell Ringo I want my supply back. Break a few bones, show him I'm serious. And if he won't be reasonable, bring his wife to me. I'm sure I can convince her to exert her influence on her junkie husband. And he's fond of the silly bitch for whatever reason."

He waved them off. "Now get the hell out of here and send Katie to me."

His mortal lover would distract him. Ease the hard ache that had settled in his cock. Make him forget for twenty minutes that he missed his wife, that he burned for Gwenna still, that after nine hundred years of knowing each other, she was tightly entwined around his heart, his life, his very existence.

He would convince her that it was time to reconcile. That was what he wanted, almost more than the political power he had achieved in the Vampire Nation, and he would have Gwenna. Again.

Gwenna wasn't sure why she had agreed to go get coffee with a total stranger, but there was something about the way he was looking at her that had made her say yes. She didn't even like coffee, and though vampires could drink liquids, she didn't really enjoy it. It tended to sit in her stomach like a boulder. Yet Detective Thomas's eyes—a rich, deep chocolate brown—stared right into her. There was total focus on her, despite his obvious tragic loss. There was no shifting of his gaze around, no cajoling words or dissembling. Maybe it was because he had just walked away from death, but he came across as straightforward, honest, still and steady.

That was very appealing, and the complete opposite of Roberto.

So much so that she had gone into the coffee shop even when she'd known that her brother and her sister-in-law were standing in the lobby watching them. She was also curious about what the detective thought of the murder, and was aware of his pain, sympathetic at the loss of his sister. If he wanted company, she was willing. She could use some herself frankly. .

"What's your first name?" she asked as they sat down at a tiny table by the window. It was dark outside and the crowd in the shop was thin. "It's too cumbersome to keep calling you Detective Thomas."

"Nate." He gave a brief smile. "Not as cool of a name as yours, but it works. It's short for Nathaniel, though no one calls me that but my mother."

"Does your mother live here in Vegas?"

"Yeah, but she's in Australia right now. My parents…" He paused and cleared his throat. "They thought my sister was going to be okay. She was in remission, so they went to Australia for a month to visit my mom's family. I called them yesterday, but with making arrangements and the long flight, they won't be here until tomorrow."

Gwenna's heart squeezed. "Oh, your mother must be so devastated that she couldn't be here."

He gave a brief nod, than leaned back in his chair. "Sure. But I don't want to talk about it. Tell me about your friend's baby."

Nate might as well have said, "Distract me." Gwenna could understand that, the feeling that the grief was so huge and monstrous that you could only process it a tiny piece at a time or it would consume you. She could chat with him… she wanted to chat with him. Here was someone who didn't know her, didn't think of her as that poor sop Gwenna, Donatelli's passive ex-wife. There was nothing back at the casino that she needed to rush home to, and part of her was dreading going to her suite and finding Roberto standing on the doorstep waiting for her.

"Brittany had a girl. Ava Coco Renee Atelier."

"Now that's a hell of a name."

Gwenna laughed. She couldn't tell from Nate's still expression if he liked it or not, but she suspected he thought it was a bit much. "Britanny's husband is French." And a couple of hundred years old, but Nate didn't need to know that.

"But they live here?"

"Yes. Like I said, my brother is married to Brittany's sister, Alexis. My brother owns a casino here."

"Which one?"

"The Ava."

"Wow." Nate looked impressed. "He owns it?"

"Yes." Gwenna hoped he didn't think she was bragging. But Ethan had always been successful because he worked hard. Beyond hard. He was exhausting in his productivity.

"But you're not American."

It wasn't a question. She shrugged. "No. I'm British. I've been living in York, but I came here for my brother's wedding last August, then came back in December and decided to stay."

"Is your ex Roberto in England?"

Gwenna glanced at him in surprise. Had she said Roberto's name? She suddenly realized she couldn't read Nate's mind. Most humans came across easily to her, their thoughts floating across her consciousness like white noise until she tuned in, but with Nate there was only silence. Maybe that was because he was a detective, and used to shuttering and shielding his emotions.

"No, Roberto lives here."

"So why would you want to be where he is if he's harassing you?"

It felt like an accusation. Gwenna was tired as hell of having to explain herself, of having to work her life around Roberto and all her mistakes. "Why should I let him keep me from living by my family?" she asked, hearing the defensiveness in her voice.

He lifted his coffee cup and drank from it. Those eyes watched her, and she realized there was no judgment there. "You shouldn't, unless your personal safety is at risk."

Sighing, she ran her fingernail across the cocktail napkin her coffee was resting on. She'd painted her nails a rather bright red the day before, which was uncharacteristic for her. But she'd suddenly felt the urge to be bold. "My personal safety isn't at risk. Honestly, Roberto would never hurt me. And he can't really get close to me anyway, not if I don't want him to." Of course, he had just knocked on her suite door earlier that night. But she could have called security if necessary. "Ethan has staff that keeps an eye on Roberto. And me for that matter." Ethan thought she had no idea that he had her followed on occasion, but she was well aware of it.

She knew everything.

And she was a bird in a cage. Or to be more accurate, a bat confined to her cave.

"Staff? Like bodyguards?"

Nodding, Gwenna realized this probably wasn't the best topic for conversation with the detective who was investigating the murder she had discovered. Lunatic ex-husbands and personal security… she was bound to either convince him she was guilty of something, or send him screaming away from her and the mess her life was.

The first would be disastrous, the second disappointing.

Because the truth was, even at the crime scene, she had been aware that Detective Thomas was a very attractive man, in a rough sort of way. Sipping the coffee carefully, she checked out Nate's muscular arms and chiseled face. Definitely good-looking, and she could absolutely appreciate that. It had been a long three centuries in York, and it occurred to her that his muscular build could very possibly keep up with her immortal strength. Or at least close enough to satisfy her. Hell, she suspected it wouldn't require much to take care of her at this point… some days it felt like a warm breeze might do the trick, and Nate looked like a very sexual man. He could give her a run—or a ride—for her money. Not that she would actually do anything about it, but it was a pleasant fantasy in the quiet, warm shop.

"You're lucky you can have security like that. Hopefully it will keep your ex from ever getting physical with you." Nate held up his hand when she started to protest. "Look, I know you don't think he ever would. And maybe he wouldn't. But I'm a detective. I've seen the result of domestic violence, and sometimes these guys snap when you least expect it. Just be careful, okay?"

"Sure." She couldn't get offended because she saw Nate's sincerity, and he had the kind of job that would expose him repeatedly to violence. Violence like she had discovered that night. "How long have you been a detective?"

"Five years. Beat cop for eight years before that."

That would put him in his early to mid-thirties. "You don't look that old."

He laughed. "I feel old enough to retire tomorrow."

Gwenna smiled. "But you wouldn't. You enjoy it, don't you?"

"Yeah. I do. It's rewarding." He picked up his coffee and drank.

"My sister-in-law used to be a county prosecutor. Alexis Baldizzi. Maybe you know her?"

His eyebrow went up. "Sure, I know her. Great prosecutor. Cutthroat. I heard she married that crazy rich British casino owner…" He winced. "Oh, shit, that's your brother, isn't it?"

That struck her as amusing. Ethan really would hate to be labeled as crazy, but to mortals, he was simply an eccentric rich casino owner. To vampires, he was president of the Vampire Nation, and a political powerhouse. She laughed. "Yes, that's my brother, Ethan. He is all of the above, and he and Alexis got married last August. I came here for the wedding, like I said, and decided to stay."

"I bet your brother and your sister-in-law had no idea you were planning to meet some guy in a train station, did they?"

"Why would they need to?" Gwenna lifted her chin up, hearing the censure in his voice. She had to remember that if she were mortal, agreeing to meet Slash like that would have been incredibly stupid. But what Nate didn't know was that she was a vampire, and hard as hell to kill. Nor could any mortal injure her or touch her against her will. Her strength, speed, and reflexes gave her a thorough advantage.

"I guess they wouldn't. Because if they had known, I'm sure they would have stopped you, like any sane person." Nate shook his head, like he still couldn't believe she had done something so ridiculous.

"No one can stop me if I make my mind up."

"Well, that's narrow-minded and dangerous."

"I didn't think it was a big deal. It was a public place."

"And probably just a place to meet you, so he could take you somewhere else in private to rape and kill you, and no one would even know where to start looking when you turned up missing."

That was a rather grim view of it. "Well, that's not what happened, is it?"

"Only because your boy either got whacked or did the whacking."

"Or it's a coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidence. Slash wanted you in that spot." Nate crumpled up his paper napkin. "The question is why. What made you look back there, by the way?"

"I thought I heard something." Gwenna was lying. There hadn't been any sound at all. In fact, after the rush of passengers had departed, heading down the escalators to the street had been unnaturally quiet. She had instinctively taken the down escalator herself because she had smelled death. A deceased body had a very peculiar fungal and putrid odor that was unmistakable for anything else. She'd known someone was dead. It had been a matter of just figuring out where the body was, not that it existed. "And the machine was turned a little. I actually thought a cat or something was back there."

"That must have been a grim surprise." Nate shook his head again.

"It was." Gwenna wrapped her arms around her chest. Despite being nine hundred years old, she had never seen a murder victim before. She hoped she never did again. The man—boy really—had been almost unrecognizable because of the way he'd been stuffed back there, his skin waxy and pale. She shuddered involuntarily.

"Hey." Nate's voice softened. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." Gwenna sat back in her rickety chair. "It's not alright at all, because whoever that poor man is, or was, he's dead, and whoever did that to him is just walking around feeling pleased with himself for getting away with it. I feel responsible in some way… like if I'd gotten there sooner…"

"You'd be dead, too."

Highly unlikely, but she wasn't going to argue. "I know it sounds irrational, but I feel just awful."