Sucker Bet (24 page)

Wandering around his living room, she took in the vintage rock posters framed and hanging, the midcentury modern furniture and streamlined decor. It suited him and the low-ceiling ranch house. Everything was straightforward and uncomplicated, not the least bit fussy. A glance in his kitchen proved that he wasn't much of a cook, though he did appear to be addicted to coffee. He had three different coffeepots, a French press, a grinder, and six pounds of beans in various roasts and varieties.

He was tidy. Clean. She had been in his house before and had got the same quick impression, but moving around, really looking at everything, it was obvious to her that Nate liked order in his life. She popped her head into his bedroom and saw that he had made the bed, the rust-colored duvet pulled crisply, white and beige pillows stacked in front of the dark wood headboard. The closet was open and two ties were discarded on a chair next to the dresser. She could picture him getting ready that morning, methodical, determined, even as he was torn apart with grief for his sister.

The second bedroom shocked her. She hadn't understood that Kyra had lived with him. Yet there was the evidence in front of her in the form of a hospital bed, personal effects like books and magazines, a bulletin board with a collage of photos. Women's clothes hanging in the half-open closet.

Gwenna felt her heart swell as she moved into the room, running her hand over the glossy issue of
Cosmopolitan
, pristine and unread on the nightstand. Studied the pictures of a pretty young woman with the same caramel-colored hair as Nate and chocolate brown eyes, posing for pictures with her girlfriends, tanned and healthy, and vital. Pictures of her with Nate, laughing and making faces in front of the Hoover Dam. Later pictures, obviously, in front of a Christmas tree, where her hair was falling out and her eyes had dark circles under them, her cheeks sinking in. But her smile still firmly in place, her eyes knowing and at peace with her fate.

Nate stood next to her, his arm protectively around Kyra as she leaned against him. He was holding her up, his strength enough for both of them, and Gwenna knew right then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she had fallen in love with Nate Thomas. He wasn't a man who would ever doubt himself. He wasn't a man who would crumple and not be able to walk forward. He knew who he was, held firm to his convictions, his truths, his love. There was a strength in him, one that she appreciated and envied, and she was in love with him.

Now she could only hope that when he woke up and she told him the truth, in its unfathomable entirety, he wouldn't turn that decisiveness against her and walk out of her life.

"Where's my husband?" Sasha asked.

Ringo took a step back, hand holding on to the knife she'd driven into his chest. It wouldn't kill him, but it hurt like a mother and he wanted it out. And then he was going to stab the crazy bitch in front of him with it.

"I don't know where your husband is and it's not my problem if you've lost him." The knife handle was slick with his blood and he couldn't get a good grip on it to tug it out.

This was so typical of women. Constantly playing head games. And if the dumb broad thought he was going to die from a knife to the heart, she was about to get a little reality check. He didn't appreciate the blood loss, but he could take her down in about half a second, given she was mortal and he was a vampire.

"He has been missing since yesterday and you know where he is. You are on the loop, yes?" she asked.

Man, it was crazy how excellent her English was given that for months she'd been claiming not to understand a word of it. Ringo shook his head, getting a little annoyed that he couldn't get the knife out. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I promise, we can work an arrangement, you and I. But you have to tell me where he is. And help me get to Carrick's sister."

"Carrick's sister?" What the fuck was she talking about? "What does Gwenna have to do with anything? I'm sorry, you've totally lost me and I've decided I don't give a shit about any of this." He was quitting. A little cash and a piece of ass were not worth this aggravation. He wasn't feeling all that great anyway. He wanted to get back to his apartment and drink some blood, take the last of the heroin he had. That would even him out, because he was really starting to feel like crap. His chest was agonizing, his stomach was revolting, and the room was spinning a little.

Ringo shoved past her, heading for the front door.

She ran and threw herself in front of it, blocking his exit, her chest heaving, expression crazed. "No! You cannot leave."

"Who's going to stop me?" She was married to a vampire. She had to know he could snap her like a pencil. Though now the room was really dancing in front of his eyes, spotted and dark. Ringo shook his head hard to clear it.

"You're dying, you know," she said.

"I don't think so." But he felt something like panic, and he renewed his efforts to pry the hot, wet knife handle out.

"Yes, you are." Her face wavered in front of him, but he could see her conviction, her revulsion. "That knife has a wooden tip to its blade. You cannot retract it yourself. It requires someone else to pull wood out of a vampire, and I am not going to do it."

Well, that threw a fucking monkey wrench in his day.

There was a knock on the door right behind Sasha's back, and Ringo was instantly aware that it was his wife standing there. He could smell her vanilla lotion scent and feel her anxiety. Sasha didn't open the door, but charged at him full force, knocking him to the ground, her hand shoving and pushing at the knife, driving it deeper.

Ringo's chest exploded in pain and he let out a yell, trying to toss Sasha off, but discovering that his arms didn't seem to work anymore. He was pinned, everything dark and hazy, his body wracked with pain, his brain scattering around, trying to find a solution, but not coming up with any sort of plan.

Then the door crashed open and he heard Kelsey's voice. "Get your slutty Russian hands off my man."

Sasha went backward, completely disappearing, and Kelsey's head bent over him.

"Hey, babe," he said, trying to smile, relief coursing through him. "I am really friggin' glad to see you."

With one swift motion she yanked the knife out of his chest and pressed the open wound with the material of his T-shirt. She bit her lip, tears in her eyes. "Damn it, Ringo, why did you do this?"

Like he stabbed himself? Having the knife gone gave him instant relief from the excruciating pain, though he still felt numb and disoriented. He swallowed hard, reaching out to flick his finger on her bottom lip. "Shit, Kels, I didn't do this on purpose. I had no idea the bitch was crazy."

She sighed and caressed his cheek. He liked her soft touch on his skin. "I miss you," he told her. "Come home."

"We have serious issues we need to work out," she said sternly, right before she kissed him.

"What issues? The only issue is that you left me." He was still ticked about that.

But Kelsey pulled back. And when she did, Ringo saw his brother Kyle standing behind her.

Jesus Christ. Ringo lifted his hand, wanting to touch Kyle, whose mouth was moving as if he were speaking, but there was no sound. Kyle's hands were on Kelsey's shoulders.

When Ringo sat up and tentatively swiped at the spot where Kyle's hand was, he felt nothing but air. His brother was gone.

Kelsey didn't seem to notice. She just took his raised hand and squeezed it. "You have to get clean and stay clean."

The heroin felt like the last of Ringo's worries at the moment. He craned his neck to see around her. "Where's Sasha?"

"On the floor. I accidentally knocked her unconscious."

He suspected there was nothing accidental about it. But he was damn glad for his wife's timing. "How did you know I was here?"

"Kyle told me."

Gwenna booted up the computer in the corner of Nate's living room. He was still sleeping soundly, and she could get online and check her e-mail while keeping an eye on him. She wasn't surprised to immediately see an e-mail from Slash.

I didn't see you at the concert. Were you there?

Feeling impatient as hell with Slash, Gwenna replied:

Yes, but I left early. Though how were you going to find me anyway? You don't know what I look like. Are you sure you're really even in Vegas?

Testy, but oh, well. She was over Slash and his vague e-mails. She could really care less if he was a lunatic killer. Let him show his true colors if he was, damn it. Clicking on to the next e-mail, she saw FoxyKyle had posted to the loop.

That name was just so irritating. Foxy didn't have anything of import to say, just a mention that she would be off-line for a few days. Though when Gwenna thought about it, that could potentially be considered odd. Foxy was always online, for the most part. Usually a day didn't go by without at least one post from her.

Gwenna was suddenly determined to figure out who FoxyKyle was. She started by googling Foxy's user name and working backward through the pages. Then just the e-mail address. A half an hour and dozens of pages later, Gwenna found a student roster for UNLV from 2005 with Foxy's e-mail address listed next to the student Kyle Martin. So she researched Kyle Martin and found that he had been shot and killed by a burglar in California while visiting his brother. The brother's name was Ringo Columbia.

Bloody hell. Gwenna pushed her chair back and stood up, still reading the screen. The brother was mentioned as being a former Marine. But that was it. Nothing to indicate it was anything other than a terrible accident, despite the fact that the burglar was never apprehended. And why was she just now remembering that Kelsey occasionally called Ringo Kyle? It was some kind of pet name she had for him, which was in fact his dead brother's name. That struck Gwenna as rather appalling now that she understood the significance.

Leaning on the desk, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If Kyle was dead, it only stood to reason that the person with access to his e-mail account would be his brother. Andrew and Johnny had been drained of their blood and stuffed in out-of-the-way corners. Ringo Columbia was a vampire and an assassin. He knew how to kill and did it easily, without remorse.

But would he do it alone?

Or on someone's orders?

Gwenna turned the computer off without properly shutting it down. She just flicked the switch, checked on Nate to make sure he was resting comfortably, and headed out the back door, stepping carefully over the broken glass.

There were a few people she needed to talk to and it couldn't wait.

Nate woke up when his cell phone rang. He rolled on his side, determined to ignore it. He felt sluggish and hot, mouth dry and muscles stiff, and he wasn't exactly sure why he was on the couch instead of in bed. His house phone starting ringing as he dozed off. Then his cell phone again.

He sat up with a huge effort and decided if that was his mother, he was going to divorce his parents. Though you probably couldn't do that at thirty-three years old.

Looking around for his cell phone, he spotted it on the coffee table, and leaned over with a groan to grab it. Every inch of him hurt like hell. "Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Jim. You need to get down here. We've got ourselves another body."

Nate rubbed his head, hard, in an attempt to jump-start his brain. He still felt foggy and vague. Must be the result of the funeral and lack of sleep. "Shit. You're kidding me. Where?"

Speaking of where, where was Gwenna? Nate looked around his living room. He didn't see any sign of her. Nor did he remember taking her home. The last thing he could actually remember with any certainty was heading to the casino. Then he'd been asleep, dreaming he'd been shot.

Jesus. He must have really lit into the booze at the casino. Not cool.

Now he had a hangover and another dead body.

"Our boy's getting bold. This one was right out in the open, tossed into a lounge chair by the pool at the Ava hotel."