Sucker Bet (Vegas Vampires #4)(61)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"I’m sorry. She isn’t worth it, you know."

"Yeah." David squared his shoulders. "Guess I should have known a woman like that wouldn’t be into me."

"You don’t want her into you. She has issues. Serious issues."

"Whatever. It’s fine. My online name isn’t Dumb Fuck for no reason." He turned to her. "Don’t go in there. They’re going to kill you."

So David was both Slash and Dumb Fuck. That was clever. "Who are the slayers?"

"There’s five of them, all wearing T-shirts that say, ‘Get Impaled, You Know You Want It.’ "

Gwenna blinked, and again had the completely inappropriate urge to laugh. "That’s creative."

He gave a brief smile. "I think they call that a double entendre."

She had to ask, had to confirm what she thought, because she was convinced David wasn’t really a bad sort after all. "The boys on the loop… did they suffer?"

His eyes shifted away from her. "No. I put a glamour on them, killed them, then drained them. Worst thing I’ve ever done… it was a horrible feeling. But I thought I was protecting whatsername from her husband."

"You need to make restitution in some way to those families, because what you did was wrong, even if your reason was noble."

He didn’t answer. He just stood up and was gone.

Gwenna wrinkled her nose. She really needed to work on the lack of badass-ness in her personality. Gigantic softie that she was, she’d just let a murderer zip away to God knows where.

What was she going to tell Nate? He seemed like a nice guy, honest .

Somehow she didn’t think that was going to go over well.

She stood up and went into the club to find the man she loved and explain herself.

And take out five vampire slayers wearing ironic T-shirts.

Nate wondered why people weren’t dropping from seizures nightly from the irritating strobe lights flashing in the dance club. It was one of those Vegas hot spots that he normally wouldn’t get within ten feet of, and wouldn’t be allowed entrance to anyway. His shoes weren’t cool enough. But there had been no one at the door tonight and it was a private party, though it was still filled with skinny half-dressed women and pretty men. The purple velvet sofas were all stuffed with people, tables in front of them littered with exotic drinks, the DJ pumping out loud music with words he couldn’t understand.

Sasha kept trying to get away from him, so he was holding her hand like they were lovers, but with an iron grip on her.

"You will never figure out who the slayers are," she said, trying yet again to yank herself to freedom.

It was sheer stubbornness. He was amazingly strong now that he was immortal. "Which is why you’re going to tell me who the slayers are, because if you don’t, you’re going to die right along with everyone else when they carry out whatever their plan is."

"I am not afraid to die."

Man, she was irritating. Nate glared at her. "Well, maybe I should just strangle you right now and get it over with."

She made a sniffling sound and stuck her chin in the air.

For ten long exasperating minutes he wandered around the room, wondering what exactly he was doing, and when a plan would miraculously occur to him, when Sasha suddenly made a sound. He turned to look at her, suspicious. "What?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, but couldn’t quite prevent her eyes from darting to the left.

Nate turned in the direction she was looking and wondered if vampires could have a heart attack.

Gwenna was getting a piggyback ride from a guy with a shaved head and a goatee, her long hair flying behind her as he bounced her around.

Whatever possible explanation there could be for that, he was pretty damn sure he didn’t want to hear it.

"I don’t want to be here," Ringo complained to Kelsey as she led him through a throng of dancers at a lux nightclub in the Bellagio. There was some kind of vampire party going on and Kelsey was running on and on about how she knew the band and wanted to see them before they left Vegas.

Ringo had a headache and was already questioning his conviction to go clean, made a whole freaking five hours earlier. Everything was so much easier in the haze. The real world was loud and painful and demanding.

"Come on, silly, it’s fun." Kelsey was wiggling to the music as they moved through the crowd.

"Yeah, well, I’m not having fun."

"Dancing is a better high than heroin."

Now who was the one on drugs? Was she serious? "I’m afraid I have to disagree with you, babe."

Which made her pout, her bottom lip jutting out. "Come on, sweetie, try to have a good time."

"Try to be normal, you mean." Well, he wasn’t normal, whatever the hell that was.

"I didn’t say that."

"You meant it." And that was the f**king pot calling the kettle black. Kelsey wasn’t normal either. She wouldn’t know normal if it walked up and kissed her ass. That was why they were a good pair.

"Don’t put words in my mouth," she said, snuggling up against him, her breath teasing across his lips.

"I could think of something better to put in your mouth."

She laughed. "You’re naughty and rude."

"That’s why you love me." She did love him. And he loved her, in whatever way he was capable. He went to kiss her, but she pulled away, giggling.

Her giggle was probably the best thing about her, it was so carefree and vibrant. He reached for her, intent on holding her, but she squirmed away and spun on her high-heel shoe.

And ran straight into Sasha Chechikov.

The guy who was holding her arm tightly shoved her at Kelsey and Ringo. "Watch her. Don’t let her leave. I’ll be right back."

He disappeared into the crowd and Ringo narrowed his eyes at Sasha. "Well, well, well. Look who stopped by to visit."

Sasha tried to mask the fear, but Ringo could smell it. She also tried to run, but he caught hold of her hand and pulled her in between himself and Kelsey. "Leaving so soon? I don’t think so. I want to talk to you. Let’s find a table."

It had seemed like a good idea to let Drake the bass player hoist her on to his back so she could scan the room better, but she hadn’t expected him to react so enthusiastically. They were doing a horse and rider interpretation as he ran across the club humming the theme song from The Lone Ranger . It was all she could do to keep from being flung off and sent sprawling. There was no way she could actually focus long enough on anyone’s shirt to read it.

As it was, half the women in the room were probably suspecting Gwenna of hitting on them, since she was studying their chests so assiduously.