Sucker Bet (11 page)

Damn, it was complicated when you shared the kind of history they did. Though not even Roberto knew Gwenna's deepest secret, and that worried her lately. Half a dozen people now knew about Isabel, her daughter. But Roberto didn't. And she suspected for the first time in their long lives, he would want to kill her when he found out she'd had his child and had never told him, not even during the three hundred years of their marriage.

"I'm sure Ethan will let Kelsey stay in the hotel."

But Alexis shook her head. "I don't know about that. It's a security issue, and you know how Ethan is about security lately. Kelsey didn't exactly endear herself to Ethan when she helped Ringo escape from his house arrest."

Kelsey didn't say anything, just bit her pouty lip as she sat on the couch next to Gwenna.

"And Ringo did try to kill Ethan, after all." Alexis looked rather put out by that fact.

"On Donatelli's orders," Kelsey said.

They were getting nowhere. "Okay, we've disintegrated into defending our respective men again. And frankly, I'm not sure any of them deserve our loyalty."

Both Alexis and Kelsey's mouths shot open.

Gwenna held up her hand. "It doesn't matter! The question is, are you leaving Ringo for good or just taking a little marital break?"

"I don't know." Kelsey rubbed her hands on the knees of her tight jeans. "I really, really love him. I want him back to
him
. I want him better."

"Babe, you can want it all you want for him, but Ringo has to decide he's ready to be clean, and stay clean. You can't make it all okay for him," Alexis said in a soft voice.

Gwenna heard the genuine sympathy from her sister-in-law, and she knew she was right. Kelsey couldn't fix her husband. Any more than Gwenna could alter the inherent flaws in Roberto. You could care about someone until you were blue in the face, but that didn't solve real, concrete problems.

"But it's because of Kyle," Kelsey said.

The tone of Kelsey's voice had Gwenna swinging her head around to stare at her. Kelsey sounded odd, eerie, unnaturally high, and suddenly very calm.

"Who the hell is Kyle?" Gwenna asked.

She glanced over at her sister-in-law, who was shaking her head. But she wasn't sure if Alexis didn't know the answer, or if she was indicating that Gwenna shouldn't go there with Kelsey.

Kelsey suddenly stood up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I shouldn't have come here. I don't want you to get into trouble with Mr. Carrick. He hates me now."

"Where are you going to go? Don't worry about Ethan." Alexis ran her hand through her short blond hair. "We'll work something out. Why don't you go check into another hotel? Get a good day's sleep and we'll see about finding you a job tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night I'm going to The Impalers concert," Kelsey said, adjusting her bra and V-neck T-shirt so her nonexistent cleavage was visible.

Gwenna was struggling to follow the thread of Kelsey's thoughts. Obviously so was Alexis because she flexed her fists and took a deep breath.

"Okay… so after the concert we can discuss finding you a place to stay permanently, and a job. And by the way, who the hell are The Impalers?"

"They used to be The Suckers. They play classic rock. All vampires. I know the bass player. We used to party in New York in the sixties when my name was Summer."

Honestly, Gwenna just had to give up. She had no idea whatsoever what Kelsey was talking about.

"Who are you going with?"

"No one."

"You're going alone?"

Obviously attending a rock concert solo sounded as batty to Alexis as it did to Gwenna, but then she'd been a virtual recluse for three hundred years. She'd never set foot in a bar or concert, and the thought of doing it alone was literally incomprehensible.

"Sure."

"I know I'm going to regret this," Alexis said, "but maybe I should go with you. We haven't had a girls night out in a while."

"Cool." Kelsey smiled at Alexis. "Wear something sexy. There will probably be cute guys there. And the boys in the band are all single."

Gwenna wished she could flip a switch and turn off her angst as easily as Kelsey did. She could have spared herself a few centuries of worry.

"Want to come with us, Gwenna?" Kelsey asked. "I could do your hair."

As tempting as that offer was, she had to pass. "I think I'll skip this time… I might have plans for tomorrow night."

Maybe it was presumptuous, but she was rather hoping Nate would be interested in another go at it. Especially as he was sure to have another painful day ahead of him.

Alexis grinned. "Gwenna has a mortal boyfriend."

Damn it, she was blushing. "He's not a boyfriend. He's just a friend." Who she happened to have shagged. She thought they called that friends with benefits, which absolutely worked for her. "And if my plans don't work out, I'll ring you. Maybe I will go to the concert."

Anything to avoid questions about Nate. Speaking of which, she needed to scoot back to the spa before the day staff strolled in and found him.

Before he thought she'd ditched out on him.

Of course, maybe he wouldn't want to see her. Maybe he regretted what had happened.

Maybe he was too busy to worry about where she was.

Maybe he would never think twice about her again.

And maybe she was a highly neurotic vampire who needed to get of the house more often.

Why did it feel like once a penis was thrown into the mix, she was utterly incapable of handling herself? Roberto had made her ridiculous, left her feeling completely out of control. And she was determined no man would ever have control of her again.

If Nate wanted to see her, he knew where to find her. He was probably too busy with his sister's funeral arrangements to give her a second thought anyway. She didn't want to intrude on his grief, or put herself where she wasn't wanted. And she had got neurotic again. Damn it.

No dangling after men, no wallowing, no worrying. She was independent now.

"Actually, I'll go with you. It should be fun." Fun wasn't the point, though. The principle was.

Kelsey let out a whoop. "Cool! And you have to wear something blue. You look hot in blue."

That was all that mattered then.

Normally, Nate knew how to take a hint.

But he wasn't feeling particularly normal.

He stood in the lobby at the Ava, feeling exhausted, gritty, stubborn. The lingering taste of bad coffee was in his mouth, and his shoulder muscles were screaming from being taut with stress all day.

So Gwenna Carrick had slipped out on him. He should leave it at that. Let it go.

But he didn't want to. He wasn't in the mood to put up with a disappearing act. If she didn't want to see him again, fine, whatever, but she should have said it to his face. There should have been a good-bye. What was so fucking hard about that?

And he had some questions for her regarding the dead guy in the train station. Some interesting little facts had popped up during the course of the day and he was curious as to what her reaction would be to the news.

Nate went up to the front desk. "I need to speak to Gwenna Carrick. What room is she in?"

"I'm sorry." The desk clerk gave him a generic smile, her blond hair sliding over her boxy uniform jacket. "I can't give out that kind of information."

Extracting his badge from his pocket and holding it up in front of her, Nate said, "I'm Detective Thomas with the Las Vegas Metro Police. I need to speak to Ms. Carrick about an ongoing murder investigation."

The girl blanched. "Oh, um. Hold on. Let me get my supervisor." She turned and ran off.

Nate was tempted to just reach over the counter and type Gwenna's name into the computer, but he restrained himself. Five minutes later he had the information he needed and he was in the elevator heading to the twenty-first floor.

He had questions and he was going to get answers.

Gwenna scanned through her e-mail, checking both her private account and the slayers' loop for signs of Slash.

There were posts from him the night before, but that was unreliable as far as she was concerned. Sometimes e-mails hit the loop immediately, sometimes there were random and unpredictable delays. It didn't prove that Slash wasn't the guy now lying in the morgue.

The possibility of his death made her shiver. Not that she had any reason to feel guilty. He had suggested the meeting location, and in his many posts, Slash hadn't come off as a particularly nice guy, but still. It wasn't like being a bit of a shit in e-mail justified popping someone off.

But she actually discovered a personal e-mail from Slash to her that appeared to have been sent that morning, given the time listed in the header. That was promising and she went to click on it when the doorbell rang.

"Damn." She really wanted to see what Slash had to say. Scanning it quickly as she stood up, she read a quick apology from him for missing their scheduled meeting. He'd had to work, he said, and couldn't get away in time.

The doorbell rang again and Gwenna jogged over, vampire speed, her mind processing Slash's e-mail. If he was at work the night before, surely he couldn't have been killed and stuffed behind a ticket dispenser then. That meant it was all a coincidence. The murder victim had nothing to do with Slash or the slayers' loop. And she'd just been stood up.

It was a total relief.

She opened the door without checking the peephole, expecting to see Alexis or Kelsey, early for their concert outing. Kelsey had threatened to bring a big giant bag of makeup to play with on Gwenna. Already intent on protesting, she yanked the door open and opened her mouth, an adage about "less is more" on her lips.

The words died when she realized it was Nate at her door. Looking tired, angry, and impatient, if his raised hand was any indication. He was going for a third knock with a taut fist.

"Hi!" she said inanely, wishing like hell she wasn't wearing yoga pants. But she'd just thrown them on after a shower, knowing Kelsey would insist on going through her closet and picking out an outfit anyway. Kelsey was just that type, and Gwenna was actually lousy at dressing herself, so she was willing to give it a go. As long as it didn't involve anything see-through or so short that sitting wasn't an option.

But now she was in stretchy, second-skin gray pants that screamed Friday Night Without a Date, and Nate was staring at her without saying a word. Feeling that annoying and telltale burn creeping up her cheeks, Gwenna forced a bright smile. "What brings you by?"

"Can I come in?" he asked, gesturing to her suite. Not smiling.

"Oh! Of course." She had spent too much time in York. She's forgotten how to deal with other human beings on a day-to-day basis. The bulk of her contact with people was online, which wasn't exactly social skill building. "I'm sorry… come in. Please."

He followed her into her apartment and she gave a quick glance around, making sure nothing inappropriate was lying around like a basket of dirty knickers or bags of blood. Of course, he'd seen her knickers when he'd ripped them off the night before, so it was not like a little personal laundry would distress him, but still. And bags of blood would just be bad. Bad blood. Bad, bad, bad. She'd have to mess with his memory, do a little erasing, if he saw anything vampiric, and that just felt wrong. Violating, really, after what they had shared.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to her sofa. Ethan's design staff had done a respectable job of ensuring the suites were more apartment than hotel room, and they were done in rich textures and quality furnishings. It was tasteful, yet Gwenna realized she'd never quite bothered to make it her own. It was still just a hotel suite in her brother's casino. Not home. No more than Roberto's Italian villa had been her home. She'd always known his staff had little respect for her, and Roberto himself had never given her any authority over decorating or their living arrangements.

Making a home of her own was yet again another thing she had never got around to. Or maybe she just hadn't known how.

"Thanks." Nate sat down and gave a sigh, like his body and bones were weary.

He still hadn't given a reason for his appearance, nor did he look like he was in a loving, touching, squeezing mood. Gwenna was absolutely unsure how to proceed. She had no previous one-night stand experience and hadn't been given any illicit sex etiquette tips at the girls' school she had attended in her youth.

Of course, here she was stupidly worried about how to handle a postorgasm encounter, and he had probably spent the day contacting family and the funeral home. She was an insensitive cad, thinking of sex when he was grieving.

"Are you doing okay? Did you have a chance to speak to your parents today?" she asked, taking the chair across from him. She wanted to touch him, to just reassure him, offer a bit of comfort, but he looked very hard, very closed off.

"Yes. They got stuck in L.A., but they should be here by morning." His fingers drummed across his knees, over and over, and he was sitting forward, stiff. "I wanted to let you know that the victim wasn't your pal Slash."