"Okay." It occurred to Gwenna that maybe Corbin would be a good person to discuss the slayers' loop murders with. He knew all the parties involved, and he would focus in on the important facts, not harass her with safety tips. "Let's talk later." She was forced to say it out loud since Corbin was no longer vampire and couldn't hear her thoughts in return. He had used a vaccine he had created on himself, returning to a mortal state, and he had done the same to Chechikov as punishment for kidnapping Brittany.

  Corbin nodded. "I'm looking forward to it."

  "I heard that, by the way," Roberto said. "If you let in one, you let in all of us. But in this case, I agree with Atelier. I'm suspicious, too. Though I don't think it's any concern of Gwenna's."

  Wonderful. Leave it to Roberto to get the last word in.

  "Heard what?" Nate asked. "What are you talking about?"

  Roberto raised an eyebrow. "Mind your own fucking business."

  "Hey!" Brittany shot him a dirty look, and turned her daughter away from Donatelli. "Watch your mouth in front of the baby."

  "She's an infant," Roberto protested.

  "Precisely," Brittany snapped at him. "We had a deal. I said you could visit Ava if you were on your best behavior and didn't do anything to corrupt her."

  Roberto looked so confused Gwenna felt the urge to laugh. In his world of wheeling, dealing, drugs, and stealing, using off-color language was hardly the worst offense he could make.

  "Using a swear word in front of a three-day-old baby is going to corrupt her? I find it hard to believe your mother didn't swear in front of you and you turned out just fine."

  "Leave my mother out of this." Brittany's cheeks turned pink.

  "Donatelli, watch what you say to my wife." Corbin was off the couch and over to Brittany.

  "What? I just said—"

  Gwenna interrupted him, enjoying that particular novelty. "Roberto, why don't you head out with Nate and I? I think we're all finished being a dysfunctional family for the moment, and I suspect Brittany could use a rest."

  "You go ahead," Roberto said. "I want to speak to my daughter."

  Brittany rolled her eyes.

  Gwenna sighed. He just couldn't keep quiet. Now she was going to have to lie to Nate yet again. Better to do it in private, though. So she just waved to Brittany and Corbin and took Nate's hand—sure to inspire murderous thoughts in Roberto's mind—and went out the front door.

  "Daughter? Who the hell is his daughter?" Nate glanced back at the house as he pulled his keys out of his pocket.

  Gwenna jumped in the passenger side as soon as he clicked the door unlocked. She decided to go with the truth, as close there to it as she could. "Brittany's his daughter. Ava is his granddaughter."

  "What? How is that possible? He can't be any more than forty. Which makes him too young to be Brittany's father, and too old to be your ex-husband."

  There was possibly truth to that. Roberto was fourteen years older than her, and he hadn't aged well. He looked a decade older than his mortal age at death. He had been the adult when she had met him, in his thirties, and he had taken advantage of her naivety. No question about it.

  "He's a bit older than forty." A lot older. "And he had a misguided youth. Brittany's mother was an exotic dancer he had no business having an affair with at his age." Let Nate interpret that however he chose. "But he did, and there you have it. Brittany is the result. It's only been a few months since DNA testing proved his paternity. Neither of them knew he was her father."

  "Wow. That's a little awkward, huh?"

  "Very awkward. But Brittany is a generous person and she's willing to give him a chance to be in her life. Hopefully for both their sakes, he won't screw it up." She clicked her seat belt. "I'm sorry about that. I had no idea he would be there."

  "Not your fault. And hell, he doesn't bother me. Just another prick who thinks he's right—I deal with them every day." Nate put his hands on the steering wheel, the car already running. "So where are we going now?"

  Gwenna ran her hand through her hair, flipping it back over her shoulder. She was anxious, restless, irritated, and not sure why. Maybe it was the obvious—that she needed to let go of Nate. It was very selfish on her part to drag him into vampire politics and the personal squabblings of their inner circle. She felt guilty that she was lying to him repeatedly, giving him only bits and pieces of information. Granted, it wasn't like it was possible to be totally honest with him, but it was still troublesome.

  A small part of her also realized that Nate was still a man. And she was supposed to be entering a new, totally independent phase of her life, and how much could she really do that if she was involved with a man like Nate, who was confident and protective, saw the world entirely in black and white, and was maybe even just a bit controlling?

  Those things were all true, and Gwenna knew that she couldn't continue to see Nate. It wasn't practical. Smart. Or good for her mental health.

  Yet they still had now. Today. She wanted that. Wanted him.

  "Let's go to the casino," she said. "I feel like gambling."

  Nate gave her a funny look. "You don't have plans to meet Slash, do you? You know how I feel about that."

  That had never occurred to her. She had just been envisioning metaphorically tossing her inhibitions down the craps table along with the dice. "No. If I did, I would tell you." Probably. "Though I still think it's a good idea. Otherwise, we might have to wait weeks while you try to figure out who he is. I've been searching for any sort of link to his real identity, and it just isn't there. He's totally covered his tracks."

  "I appreciate you wanting to help, but let me and the department handle this, Gwenna."

  That attitude struck her as patronizing, even as she realized that Nate had no way of knowing she was a vampire, and not in the danger a regular mortal woman would be. But she just didn't understand his unwillingness to accept help. "But what if someone else is killed in the meantime?"

  He didn't have an answer for that obviously. Nate made a sound of exasperation. "What do you want me to do? Send you out there to get killed? I don't think so." He reached out and touched her cheek, softly sliding his finger across her skin. "Is it crazy to say that I care about you? That I want to keep seeing you."

  Gwenna closed her eyes for a brief second to gather her emotions. She wasn't prepared for Nate's lips to brush over hers while she did.

  "I really like you," he said in a low voice that did all manner of shivery things to her insides.

  She opened her eyes in time to see his expression, dark and sensual and entrancing, as he bent over her, kissing both corners of her mouth.

  "I want to be with you."

  Now was the time to tell him they had no future, that it was fun while it lasted, but the reality was such that they could never be together. It was the absolute perfect opportunity to settle the issue, to put the brakes on any sort of relationship. Easy enough. She just had to say it.

  "I want to be with you, too." That wasn't saying it. Damn it. Why the hell had the truth come out of her mouth? Here she was lying right, left, and sideways, and when she actually needed to lie, she blurted out the bloody truth?

  And now Nate's tongue was in her mouth, so there was no way to correct or retract her statement. She was too busy snogging.

  He broke away, breathing hard, hand buried in her hair. "The casino to gamble or straight up to your place so I can fuck you?"

  Oh, my. Gwenna wished a gearshift wasn't between them and that they weren't still sitting in Brittany and Corbin's suburban driveway. Why wait, really? But there was something to be said for anticipation. "How about we get drunk, lose a pile of money, then go up to my place so you can fuck me?"

  Gwenna was so proud of herself. She'd said the f word again, and this time in a sexual context. It felt sassy and raunchy, and she was rather fond of it.

  Nate clearly was, too. His eyes went dark and he groaned, glancing down at her chest, his finger wandering between her thighs. "Jesus, you're killing me."

  Gwenna was spreading her legs a little so he could slip under her skirt, when a knock on the window sent her jumping three feet in the air.

  "Christ." Nate pulled back and made a sour face at whoever was behind her shoulder. "What the hell does he want?"

  Oh, no. Gwenna turned and saw Roberto a mere twelve inches away from her on the other side of the window. Not good.

  He looked like he could eat glass and like it.

  And somehow she couldn't force herself to speak.

  But Roberto wasn't at a loss for words. "Can you move your slutty little make-out session elsewhere? My car is in front of you in the driveway and you're blocking me."

  "Oh. Sorry." Her cheeks were burning. She had no reason to be embarrassed or ashamed, but she felt very exposed.

  Nate didn't bother to say anything. He just put the truck into reverse and pulled back, leaving Roberto standing in the driveway glaring at them.

  "What does your ex-husband do for a living?"

  "Real estate development is what he officially calls it. You would call it the Mafia, I imagine."

  Nate stomped on the brake harder than was necessary at a stop sign. "Your ex is mob?"

  "Of course he is." Gwenna was irritated that yet again, in the middle of a moment she was quite enjoying, Roberto had inserted himself. And now they were still talking about him. "Didn't I tell you that?"

  "No, I don't think you mentioned that little fact."

  "Does it matter?"

  "Maybe. I don't know. And you married him? How old were you?"

  "I was eighteen when I met him. He was very charming." Lots of sweet words and grandiose promises. And to be fair, he'd kept most of those promises. He just could never separate right from wrong with any sort of finality. Roberto had very wide moral boundaries.

  "He looks like a snake oil salesman."

  "Yes, well, I was an idiot. What can I say?"

  "I didn't say you were an idiot. You were young, he was charming. We all make mistakes."

  "Can we not talk about him anymore, please? I am so utterly sick of everything I do being affected by Roberto. He has no business being here in this truck between us right now." She wasn't sure why she was so thoroughly hot under the collar, but she was. Why couldn't she even have an affair unencumbered? Everyone else did. Every mortal and vampire on the entire goddamn planet was entitled to a little fun, a frivolous sexual fling just because it felt good. Not her. She had to have her ex-husband sitting on her lap while she tried to get naughty.

  Nate glanced over at her. "You're right. Sorry." He gave a laugh. "Do you know when I first met you I thought you were a ditzy blonde?"

  Gwenna felt her eyebrow shoot straight up to her hairline. What exactly about that statement was causing him amusement? "Is that to say you no longer think I'm a ditzy blonde? Thank you, I think." She didn't feel warm and fuzzy at the backhanded compliment.

  "But now I think you're one of the most amazing, intelligent, compassionate, beautiful women I've ever met."

  Much better.

  "And I feel like you walked into my life at the right time, for a reason."

  He was facing the road, so she couldn't see his eyes, but his voice was firm, confident. "And I'm not such a pussy that your obnoxious ex-husband with mob connections is going to scare me away."

  "No?"

  "No. So we're going to see where this thing between us goes."

  Well, since he had decided… It would be rude to tell him no. But there was that niggling little part of her that kept insisting there had to be a way to tell Nate the truth. That maybe he was open-minded enough to accept her vampirism. Because she really and truly wanted to see where a relationship between them could go as well.

  "That sounds like a plan, Nate."

  She had one, too. When they got to the Ava, she was going to take him upstairs and show him that she was a girl with bite. Literally.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ringo stared at Sasha in disbelief. "What do you mean, no?" She couldn't just rub all over him and get him hard and then bail on him. It did not work like that.

  "Nyet." She shook her head, zipping the pants he'd just undone back up. Yet at the same time she leaned forward and kissed him again vigorously, her breasts pressing against his chest.

  No, no, no. That wasn't going to work. "Hey, back off, Bond Girl. You can't be doing that. We either have sex, or you've got to stay the hell off of me."

  She looked at him blankly, just shrugging her shoulders, fingers playing with the back of his neck as she grinded her body against his. What was the Russian word for dick tease? Jesus. Sasha was gorgeous, tall and thin and exotic, with piercing eyes and legs meant to wrap around a man. Except there was no wrapping going on and he was losing patience. The chick wanted to make out and leave it at that, and he wasn't in fucking high school. That pet-and-cuddle shit didn't cut it for him. He wanted something real. Something to take the edge off his frustrations and anger, and to help him forget that he missed his dipshit of a wife.

  Kelsey would never tease. She took it as hard as she gave it, and he respected that.

  "Look, I know you don't speak English, but I'm telling you that this isn't going to work. The clothes have got to come off." Ringo went for the zipper on her jeans again.

  She slapped his hand. Hard.

  "Oww, Christ!"

  Lifting her hand, she pointed to the big-ass rock of a diamond on her ring finger. "Nyet. Gregor."

  So she suddenly had a conscience about the fact that she was married? Ringo stared at her in disbelief. They were kissing and pawing each other in Gregor's freaking hotel suite at the Bellagio, and that was okay, but she drew the line at penetration? That was the good part. Man, he didn't understand women.

  Of course, he was only with her because she was slipping him a little cash to get her into vampire-restricted events, like that Inaugural Ball the night before. He wasn't sure why she had wanted to go—she had just looked around and left without a protest when security had ousted them since he wasn't exactly welcome and neither was she since she was married to Chechikov, Carrick and Donatelli's political enemy. But he'd been willing to do it for the money, because he owed Donatelli for stealing his heroin, and prospects for employment weren't looking too good. Nobody was in the market for an assassin at the moment.

  Ringo figured it hadn't hurt to be seen with Sasha either, since she was a very attractive woman, and he wanted to make his wife jealous. He missed Kelsey, and was pissed at her for abandoning him. She had always stood by him before, and the fact that she'd just walked out, for such a lame reason, had hurt. Down deep, where it sliced and burned.

  "Who gives a shit?" Ringo slid the ring off her finger and plunked it down on the coffee table. "There. You're not married."

  He expected her to get ticked, and that was fine with him, because he was about sick of this broad, but she just lifted her eyebrow and gave him a smirk. She said something in Russian and reached into her pocket. That better friggin' be a condom she was pulling out, or he was walking.

  Even better. It was a bag of heroin in powder form. Ringo was a solid twenty-four hours out from his last hit, and he was feeling it. It made him anxious and impatient and irritable. The sight of the bag in her hand made his leg twitch, his body burn, his mouth dry and thick.

  He reached for it. She turned and dumped the powder into a glass sitting on the coffee table. A used glass, blood dried on the rim and pooling in a sticky circle on the bottom. Ringo moved forward to take it from her, not worried about cleanliness or clumping. He would just add a fresh shot of blood before he drank it. Hell, maybe he'd add hers. She was mortal, after all.

  Giving him a smile, she darted away from him, went to the wet bar behind the sofa, and reached into the little fridge. She added a splash of blood to the glass and swirled it around. That was more like it. Nice, chilled drug blood and a hot chick waiting on him. That's how he wanted it. Then as he was reaching for the glass, she suddenly and inexplicably dumped the whole thing down the sink with a flick of her wrist.

  Ringo watched her in disbelief, before knocking her aside and swiping his hand across the disappearing fluid, mopping up what was still clinging there. He licked his blood-smeared skin, intense painful disappointment coursing through him, pitting his stomach, and tensing all his muscles. There was hardly any left, but he sucked every last speck off his hand, going back with his finger in the sink basin over and over again until there was nothing left.

  Then he lifted his head and glared at her. "Why the fuck did you do that?"

  It took him a second to realize that she had just shoved a knife into his heart.

  The pain exploded, mingling with the beginning high of the heroin, and he stared at her in shock, unable to react.

  "Because I want you awake when I kill you," she whispered, hand still firmly on the knife handle.

  No way. The conniving little bitch spoke English.

  Ringo fell onto his knees.

  "Let's just go straight upstairs," Gwenna said as they parked in the garage at the Ava. She felt anxious to get Nate alone, like it was really important that she tell him the truth now.

  He glanced over and grinned at her. "I thought you wanted to get me drunk before you take advantage of me."

  "I've suddenly got nervous that you might pass out on me before we can get to the good part."

  Laughing, he hopped out of the truck, and came around and opened her door. "Whatever you want. I'm game."

  Damn it, he was so adorable. Gwenna leaned forward and kissed him. "Thank you for being so accommodating."

  "You have no idea how accommodating I can be."

  That sounded promising.

  Gwenna slid a leg over to climb out of the truck and smiled, taking the hand Nate offered. He was smiling, too, still wearing his suit from the funeral, and looking a bit rumpled in it. He wasn't really a suit kind of guy. He was jeans and boots, sweatshirts and T-shirts. She was about to respond, to toss off some witty reference to his sexual prowess, when she smelled the scent of vampire in the air.

 

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