Sucker Bet (Vegas Vampires #4)(49)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"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.

"You okay?" Connors asked him, moving past with a uniformed officer. "I saw you tossing your guts out back there."

"I think I have the stomach flu or something." He hoped. Because he didn’t like the alternative—that Gwenna had drugged him. Which probably proved he’d been in police work too long if he could even consider that a possibility. But either way, he was finding it difficult to concentrate.

"Yeah, well, don’t breathe on me. I don’t want your f**king flu cooties."

"Thanks for the sympathy." Nate gripped the back of a pool chair when a hot wave of dizziness rolled over him. "Shit the bed, this sucks." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out, his stomach churning painfully.

"Give us another thirty minutes and you can head on home. We’ll have ourselves a big old sit-down tomorrow with all the medical evidence from our rapidly growing body count. We’ll plan a strategy, which will include begging the department for some manpower to assist us. We can’t follow up on all three of these by ourselves."

At the moment, just standing felt like a challenge to Nate. And Jim smelled funny to him, sort of sour and sweaty, nauseating. Nate leaned over and threw up again, aiming for the potted plant on the concrete sidewalk.

"Thomas! You’re contaminating a crime scene. God, go home." Jim grabbed his arm and pulled him along the pavement. Then jerked him to a halt again.

Nate was stumbling to keep up, concentrating on keeping one foot in front of the other, his eyes on the ground.

"Uh-oh. Here’s trouble," Jim muttered. Then louder, "You’re not allowed in here. You have to stay behind the tape, miss."

Nate forced his head up. He knew it was Gwenna. He could smell her skin, the strawberry lotion she used on her hands, and he could hear her heart pounding anxiously.

Her heartbeat? Nate shook his head to clear all the sounds, the crazy thoughts. What the f**k was the matter with him? His teeth hurt, right in front. "Gwenna, go back upstairs. I’ll call you later."

She reached across the crime-scene tape and ran a cool hand over his forehead. "I’m heading out to run an errand, but I need to talk to you."

Nate pulled away. "Don’t touch me, babe, I have the flu. I don’t want you to catch it."

"Have a sip of this." Gwenna put a takeout cup with a straw in his hand. "It will make you feel better. Then when you’re done here with Gregor, call me so we can chat."

"I don’t think I should drink anything. My stomach will just toss it back up." But it did feel cool in his hand, and it smelled sweet. "What is it?"

"It’s a British cure-all. Just drink it."

She looked so worried about him that Nate sipped from the cup, sucking hard on the straw. The drink moved over his tongue, immediately soothing his dry mouth. It hit his gut like water on a smoldering fire. "Hey, that’s pretty good." He took another sip and realized that he had drained the whole cup in about two seconds.

The burning in his gut abated and his teeth stopped throbbing. "Thanks. That helped."

Taking the empty cup back, Gwenna looked him straight in the eye, leaning over the crime-scene tape, and whispered, "Would it be insane and completely inappropriate to say that I’m falling in love with you?"

Those words were as soothing as her cure-all drink. "No." He squeezed her hand. "It wouldn’t be crazy. Because I’m falling in love with you, too."

She kissed him before he could protest she’d catch his germs. "Be safe. I’ll see you later."

In his foggy state, Nate realized something as he watched her beautiful figure turn and walk away. She had said she was running an errand. Where the hell was Gwenna going at midnight?

And had she mentioned the victim by name?

Clenching his fists, Nate wiped his sweaty forehead and went to find Jim. They had a big problem.

The woman he was most likely in love with was knee deep in what were potentially mob murders.

That ought to do wonders for his career.

Chapter Fifteen

Roberto’s bodyguard, the one who had shot Nate, opened the door for her at Roberto’s suite.

Gwenna was so furious she reached up and slapped him straight across the face. She had never hit another human being in her life, but it felt pretty damn satisfying.

"Ow," His head snapped back and he glared at her. "What was that for?"

"For strolling up and shooting my boyfriend in cold blood."

"I was just doing what I was told," Smith said sullenly.

"Well, maybe you should try thinking for yourself once in a while."

Smith looked confused as to how to even respond to that, let alone do it. He just stared at her.

But Gwenna shifted her attention to Roberto, who was entering the room with a buxom blonde wearing tight jeans and a tank top, clinging to his arm. "Are you harassing my help?"