Sucker Bet (Vegas Vampires #4)(44)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"Get down," he rasped, hands trying to push her head against his stomach and out of range from the shooter, as he stopped trying to get into the car and stood straight up.

He was trying to shield her, but she couldn’t help him that way, and she knew without a doubt a bullet wasn’t going to hurt her, so she fought him to stay upright.

But it was too late. There was another popping sound and Gwenna watched in horror as Nate’s expression froze, as he started to tip forward, blood spreading across the pristine white front of his dress shirt. "Nate!"

His eyes were rolling back into his head, and he swayed on his feet. Gwenna grabbed the lapels of his jacket and dragged him into the truck, going for speed instead of caution. He was on his side, legs crushed awkwardly, but she just leaned over him and yanked the door shut with trembling fingers.

It was then she saw who had shot Nate. It was Smith, Roberto’s bodyguard. He was standing in the middle of the row they had parked in, a gun in his hand and a smug smile of satisfaction on his fat lips.

Oh, God. Gwenna thought she was going to throw up as she realized that Roberto had ordered him to do this. To kill Nate, because of his involvement with her. For a second, the world actually tilted as she went dizzy with shock. Swallowing hard, she fought to keep the bile down, and shimmied into the driver’s seat. The hospital was just up the road. They would save Nate. Mortals survived gunshot wounds all the time. Modern medicine was astonishing. She would not let him die because of her.

But when she slowed down to let the gate open so she could exit the parking garage, she glanced at Nate. And realized that no one was going to save him. It was too late. He was already dead, eyes wide open and vacant.

"No!" Tears blurred her eyes, and she slammed on the gas, hurtling out into the street, not even sure where she was going, the jerk of the vehicle jarring and intense. Mind numb, she side-swiped a parked car, before having the wherewithal to pull over and park on the side of the road, shaking and crying. "Oh, shit, oh, shit, this isn’t fair." She reached for Nate. He slumped against her, slack and completely unresponsive. "Damn it." With trembling fingers, she checked for a pulse in his neck, knowing she wasn’t going to find it.

The look of death was unmistakable, and Nate had it. A quick pull back of his jacket showed one of the bullets had gone right through the heart. Gwenna held him in her arms, and fought the total overwhelming and paralyzing feeling of panic. She didn’t know what to do. She had absolutely no idea what to do. But there was nothing to do. He was dead. Nate was dead because of her.

He was dead, and she would live forever, and Roberto still had his iron fist of control wrapped firmly around her…

Gwenna sat up straight. Unless she used her blood. Gave it to Nate. Turned him to vampire.

She had never done that, never used the power of her blood, never needed to, and had never wanted the responsibility. The one person she would have turned was her daughter, and Isabel had rejected the gift, had ensured her mother or uncle could never turn her by Committing Suicide. Isabel had pinned herself with a sword to the boards so she wouldn’t inadvertently jerk about, then had decapitated herself.

That her daughter had wanted to die that badly had nearly destroyed Gwenna.

Knowing she was responsible for Nate’s death very well could destroy her.

Gwenna shifted back over behind the wheel, letting Nate’s head fall into her lap. Smoothing his hair back, she shifted gears, hit the gas, and pulled out onto the street. There was no way she was going to just let Nate go. His house was only a few minutes away and she would have privacy to drain him and then feed him her blood.

If Roberto thought she was going to crumple into a puddle and let Nate die, he had another thing to learn about Gwenna Carrick. She may be quiet and unassuming, but she was also stubborn and logical.

And logic was telling her the vast majority of people would choose life as a vampire over death.

So that’s what she was going to give Nate.

"He’s dead. Are you sure?" Donatelli stared hard at Smith. His men weren’t exactly Mensa material and it was vital to verify important little details with them.

"I guess so. I mean, I shot him through the heart." Smith’s look of satisfaction and pride turned to puzzlement. Worry. "He should be dead."

"Didn’t you check his pulse?" That’s all he needed was the damn cop only wounded. Gwenna would get off on nursing him back to health, which would totally defeat the purpose of shooting the bastard in the first place. He wanted Nate Thomas out of Gwenna’s life. Permanently.

"No, I couldn’t check his pulse. She pulled him into the car and drove away. But he really did look dead."

Roberto stopped pacing and closed his eyes as the whole room went red with his rage. "Excuse me? Who drove him away?"

"Ms. Carrick." Smith bit his lip, like he couldn’t quite figure out why that might be a bad thing.

"You are a complete moron." Donatelli struggled to breathe. "You were supposed to shot Thomas when he was by himself, not with Gwenna."

"Why?"

"Because…" He clenched his fists over and over, mind trying to devise a punishment heinous enough for Smith and his stupidity. "Because Gwenna likes the man, you fool. And she’s a sucker for a sad story. If she thinks he is dying, she’ll turn him into a vampire. Then I’ll have the guy drooling over her for who the hell knows how long instead of just a year or two! God!" He picked up what was closest to his hand—a table lamp—and hurled it across the room.

It exploded against the wall with a horrific crash and dropped to the floor in a hundred pieces of ceramic and glass.

"Sorry," Smith said. "I didn’t even think of that."

Well, obviously.

Though Gwenna didn’t really give a damn what the neighbors might think, she didn’t want to deal with any suspicious inquiries, so she kicked open the fence gate, breaking the lock, and dragged Nate into the backyard. Punching her hand through the glass of the slider, she undid the lock and opened the door. Nate was heavy, even for her, and she barely made it to the sofa in his den before she lost her grip on his arms.

Her balance compromised by gravity as he dropped down onto the sofa, she stumbled and fell on top of him, breathing hard, her stomach churning, eyes burning. It had been at least five minutes since his heart had stopped beating and she couldn’t wait another minute. Peeling down his T-shirt to give her clearance to his neck, Gwenna closed her eyes and punctured his flesh with her fangs.

This was the first time she had drunk his blood, other than that one quick taste during sex, and she felt the hot swell of regret. It shouldn’t have been like this. She should have told him the truth and let him decide whether to stay or walk away. She shouldn’t have waited.