Nate snapped wide awake, fear gripping his gut. "Was the victim male or female?"
"Male. But this dude's older. Forties. And a big guy. It couldn't have been an easy thing catching him off guard, whacking him, and plopping him by the pool."
It wasn't Gwenna. That's all Nate really heard. Taking a deep breath, he stood, his stomach burning. He really felt like shit.
"Give me twenty minutes to get there." He needed to drink about a gallon of coffee first. "And what time is it anyway?"
"Aahh… eleven twelve p.m."
"Are you serious?" How could he have had time to get shit-faced at the casino and pass out and still be home by eleven? That was freaking pathetic. "And just so you know, Gwenna Carrick and I were at the Ava around five o'clock today. She lives there. Her brother owns it."
"Now why does that not surprise me?" Jim said wryly. "Your chickie pops up everywhere there's a body, Thomas. Might be a really good idea for you to stay away from her while we're piecing this thing together."
That would be the logical thing to do. Nate scratched his chest. He had a nagging itch right around his pectoral, left side, and for whatever reason he wasn't wearing a shirt. It was really irritating to him that he couldn't remember anything. Especially now that the cop in him was silently considering that maybe he'd been drugged.
But love wasn't logical. And he was pretty damn sure he was in love with Gwenna Carrick. "Yeah, I hear ya." That was nice and noncommittal. Because while he knew he shouldn't see Gwenna, he wasn't at all sure he could go cold turkey and cut her off.
"Another thing. Latest victim still had his wallet in his pocket. If we can believe the ID he was carrying, his name's Gregor Chechikov. Just from doing a little preliminary research in the last thirty minutes, we've already turned up a conviction in Chechikov's history. Seems he had some Russian Mafia connections and got caught in a sweep in New York ten years ago, though he never did any time. He plea-bargained and went home to the Motherland."
"This guy's mob? Fuck." Nate stood up, shook out his sore legs, and walked slowly to the kitchen to start his coffee. "Do me a favor and start a search on a guy named Roberto Donatelli. See what you turn up."
"Sure. Who is he?"
"He's Gwenna Carrick's ex-husband."
"Mr. Carrick, we have a bit of a problem."
Ethan turned away from his computer screen in his office and gave Sam, his head of hotel security, his full attention. "What now?" He already had his casino crawling with cops after a sanitation worker had gone to strain the pool at its 9 p.m. closing and found a dead body sitting in a goddamn lounge chair.
A body that Ethan knew immediately on sight was Gregor Chechikov, though he had played dumb. There was nothing to connect him to Chechikov in the mortal world, and if he admitted to knowing the victim, it would only complicate their investigation. Though it was unlikely they would ever solve the crime.
This was an internal vampire affair. And a huge problem. Someone had known Chechikov was no longer vampire, but returned mortal by Atelier's vampire vaccine. They had known that and killed him. Or maybe they hadn't known why, they had just ascertained he was mortal and took advantage of the fact. Either way, someone had wanted to kill a man who was something of a cult classic in vampire culture.
His death was going to infuriate a large number of vamps. Not a great way to start a new term as president. Not to mention he was mad as hell that, despite recent security increases, someone had managed to plant a body on his property. "When do the police expect to be done by the pool?"
"They'll probably be here all night. And we'll have to keep the pool closed tomorrow."
"Wonderful." He'd already called his secretary in to have her schedule an emergency meeting with his cabinet members to discuss the situation. "So I'm sorry, what's the new problem?"
Sam handed him a DVD. "Why don't you pop that into your computer and take a look. It's the security tape from this afternoon of the parking garage."
Ethan did as suggested and a minute later he was staring at the empty parking garage, a red Toyota cruising down the row of cars. "What am I looking for?"
"May I?" Sam leaned over and moved the cursor to speed the video up. He stopped it. "Watch the Ford Explorer."
Studying the black-and-white images, Ethan watched a man get out of the Explorer, come around to the passenger side, and open the door. Presumably it was either to let a woman out, or to get something from his truck, but they could see clearly into the vehicle and there was nothing there. There was also something familiar about the guy.
"Do I know this guy? I think I've seen him before."
"He's, uh, a friend of Ms. Carrick's."
That's who he was. Gwenna's mortal boyfriend. "So are you assuming he's driving Gwenna home here?" That wasn't all that newsworthy, in Ethan's opinion.
"Yes. But watch."
And Ethan saw Gwenna's friend take a bullet in his back, pitch forward, and get hauled into the truck from invisible hands. "Bloody hell. That's Gwenna driving him away, isn't it? And who shot him?"
"Vampire. He's not on the tape. Though the guy in the booth down there remembers Gwenna leaving, driving erratically. Then right after her was a big guy he described in good detail, because he and the guy had a conversation about female drivers as they watched Gwenna jump the curb."
"Does the guy sound like anyone we know?"
"It sounds a hell of a lot like one of Donatelli's employees to me. Though that's just speculation on my part. I didn't see him."
Ethan stopped the tape. "Damn it. That would be right up Donatelli's alley, wouldn't it? To kill Gwenna's boyfriend." Which wouldn't make Gwenna happy, which pissed Ethan off. Donatelli needed to leave her alone, once and for all.
Sam nodded. "Donatelli's never been right in the head when it came to Ms. Carrick."
"Where do you think Gwenna went?"
"No idea."
Ethan picked up the phone and dialed his wife. "Hey, it's me. Have you talked to Gwenna tonight?"
"No, but I know she was going to a funeral today with Nate Thomas, her hottie mortal boyfriend."
"Is that his name?"
"Yep. Why? Do you need to talk to Gwenna? I'll tell her to call you if I see her."
"Thanks, babe, I'll see you later. I love you."
Ethan hang up, not even waiting for Alexis's return endearment, which would get him in trouble, he was certain, but he was suddenly worried about Gwenna, Terrified she might have done something stupid. He stood up.
"Find Donatelli. I need to talk to him."
"Sure."
"And didn't you tell me the detectives on the scene downstairs were named Connors and Thomas?"
Sam pulled out his Palm and clicked on a few things. "Yeah. Detectives James Connors and Nathaniel Thomas. I met Connors. Big guy. Said his partner was on the way."
Shit. Fuck. Damn. Ethan rubbed his temples. "Well, guess what Gwenna's little mortal friend's name is? You know, the one we just watched on tape bite it by a bullet?"
Sam's eyes went wide. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, I am. Alexis just said his name is Nate Thomas. Which means Gwenna turned him vampire. And we have a fledgling vampire downstairs picking over Chechikov's body."
Gwenna held her breath until Alexis hung up the phone.
"That was Ethan, as I'm sure you guessed. He's looking for you."
"Thanks for not telling him I'm here."
"Yeah, well, you owe me big time. He's going to want to beat me when he figures out I lied to him."
Pacing back and forth in Alexis's apartment, Gwenna realized her feet hurt. She'd been wearing her heels from the funeral since early that morning. Her toes were pinched and she'd been up for twenty-four hours so she could attend Kyra's funeral with Nate. She was anxious, exhausted, strung out, mind racing in seventeen different directions. "I know. And I appreciate you putting yourself on the line for me. But the thing is, I have to keep Ethan out of this. First of all, it would be political suicide. But more important, this is between Roberto and myself. We have unfinished business that I need to take care of."
"I think you're making a mistake." Alexis sat at her dining room table and watched Gwenna, hand propping up her chin. "If this involves the slayers' loop in any way, Ethan needs to know. It will make him look like an ineffectual president. And you know what Donatelli is like. Confronting him alone is not a good idea."
Gwenna had told Alexis everything because she had needed a sounding board, someone to help her sort out the situation. But Alexis clearly wasn't seeing eye to eye with her. "Roberto would never hurt me."
"What if it's Donatelli who gave Ringo the orders to kill those guys?"
"I just don't see to what purpose that would serve Roberto. It's too risky and he's not stupid. He's in the perfect power position as vice president. Why would he jeopardize that?" It wasn't the way Roberto operated. He went for power, always power.
"Yeah, well, I can't even begin to guess what's going through Donatelli's head. But there was a little development in this whole thing tonight. Another body was found, and I can guarantee you this will send these murders straight to the front page of the
Review-Journal
."
A chill went down Gwenna's spine. "Why?"
"Because the body was found right here at the pool at the Ava. And the victim is none other than Gregor Chechikov."
"What?" Gwenna stopped pacing and stared at Alexis. "Gregor? Oh, shit." That did point the finger rather blatantly at Roberto. Why she wanted it not to be him, she couldn't explain. But she had another more pressing thought anyway. "Are the police here?"
"Oh, yeah. All around the back. It's a mob scene, and I expect the media to show up at any given minute. A murder at a casino is news."
"I've got to go." Gwenna kicked off her heels. "Do you have sandals I can borrow?"
"Sure. In the front closet. Take your pick." Alexis narrowed her eyes. "But where are you going? You shouldn't see Donatelli alone. Take someone with you."
"I'm not going to see Roberto." Not yet, anyway. "I have to check on a friend."
"Didn't you just come from Nate's house?"
"Actually, that was earlier." And she had the horrible sinking feeling that he was no longer tucked up under a sheet on the sofa, but was downstairs rummaging through poolside evidence. "I went and saw Brittany and Corbin."
"Why? Did something happen to Ava?"
"No, of course not. I just had to ask Corbin something." Or more accurately, beg him. But it had worked. Corbin had given her one dose of his vampire vaccine.
She had the power to return Nate to his mortality.
But first she had to find him and make sure he wasn't wandering around as a fledgling vampire, utterly clueless as to what she'd made him.
Nate peeled off the latex gloves he'd been wearing and rubbed his forehead. God, his stomach hurt. It burned intensely, like he was hungry. Yet when he'd had some coffee and a bagel on the way over, he'd spent the next twenty minutes puking it all back up in the casino parking lot.