“No.”
“And you didn’t look.” The accusation rode a gentle tone, but still staked his heart.
“Not at first.” His pride curdled on his tongue. “I thought you were trying to teach me a lesson and were simply being stubborn.”
“Wow. I sound like a bitch.” Kristina sat back, withdrawn and introspective.
“Absolutely not.” He swallowed back the urge to yell. “Occasionally insecure, over the top, radiant with laughter and verve for life—but never a bitch.”
“I walk out and disappear for fifty years? Sounds pretty bitchy to me.” She wrinkled her nose and traced a finger over the manila folder. “And if it took you fifty years to even look—why now?”
“I didn’t wait that long. I swear that to you. I began discreet inquires within a few months—the longest you ever left me before was two moons. But no one knew where you were. We tore the city apart, and you weren’t there. I sent hunters out, and not even a whisper of you came on the wind.” His heart clenched. One of the hunters had suggested she had walked into the sun, but he’d refused to accept that no matter how many years passed.
“So I walk out, disappear for fifty years and you just happen to show up in Vegas, and I just happen to run into you in a bar?” Skepticism ripened in the statement. “I’m really not buying that.”
“Malcolm Reynolds brought me a picture of you. One you texted to your friend, Jeannie.” This was not going at all well. They needed to be alone—at least there he could seduce her at his leisure and quiet the uncertainty in her expression. “Would you care to come upstairs with me again? We can—”
“Yeah, no.” She shook her head swiftly. “We’ll go upstairs and have monster sex and, while that’s really hot, I don’t think that will solve any of this.” She rubbed a hand against her face. “Jeannie left here with a vampire. It was really romantic, and she’s having a blast out there, but she remembered her life, and I don’t. I don’t think I really want to go back to a place or a person that I walked out on so regularly he didn’t even realize something happened.” She drained the last of her drink and stood.
Richard rose with her. “Kristina…”
“Seriously? I want to be called Kiki. If you love me as much as you claim, you could at least show me that much respect.”
Taken aback at the anger boiling in the words, he nodded. “Very well, Kiki. Please don’t go.”
“I want to go for a walk—out of here. Maybe around the casino. I need to think.” She withdrew further, retreating from the playfulness. The blood humming in her system restored her strength and with it the ability to reject him.
It burned him to ask, but he pressed on anyway. “May I join you? You don’t remember, and I do—the woman I remember is Kristina. But you are right. You’re Kiki now. I would very much like to know Kiki.”
She bit her lip. “And if I open this file folder?”
He curled his fingers into his palms, fighting the urge to drag the folder away. “That is your choice. I have told you why I didn’t want you to read it—”
She flipped the folder open and stared at the page. His gaze dropped to it with a sigh. Kristina laughed, the damn-near unfriendly sound carrying very little humor. Glancing from her to the page, he frowned.
That’s cheating—do your own dirty work.—H.
She flipped through the blank pages and laughed again. “Apparently Heidi is not on board with this.”
Eyes narrowing, he scooped up the lot and scanned the pages. They carried no hint of magic or scent at all. They were exactly what they appeared to be. “I’m sorry.”
Kristina shrugged. “It’s okay. I liked the idea of cheating, so I guess she’s right about that. I don’t like not remembering.”
Setting the file down, he rubbed her arm. “I don’t like that you don’t remember either. If I could give them back to you…”
“You tried.” She tipped her head up to study his face. “Last night, you told me to remember in that deep and spooky voice.”
Uncertain of how to react to his voice being called deep and spooky, Richard sighed and nodded. “Your blood—it answered mine when I called you. I thought surely your memories would do the same.”
Kristina slid her arm through his, the comfortable intimacy in the familiar gesture filled him with hope. Anton took care of the check, and Richard guided her to the exit. Awareness simmered over him—the salt-and-pepper haired guardian followed. He spared the man a hard look.
“It’s okay. I told Heidi I wouldn’t do the runaway game again, so Stan can tag along. You have your guards. I have mine.” Playfulness erased the disappointment on her face. They were halfway across the lobby when she glanced up at him. “Wait, if your blood called mine, and I answered—dude, am I a vampire too?”
No way to soften this answer. “Yes.”
Excitement struggled with resentment over his answer. Kiki squeezed his arm, and swept her gaze across the throngs of people entering and exiting the casino. Women hung on to their men or each other, laughing carelessly. Hardened gamblers walked with determination, while dabblers traveled in various stages of enthusiasm from profound disappointment to quivering excitement.
They were all on their way to or arriving from somewhere. They knew who they were, who they were with and what they were doing.
“Kris—Kiki?”
“Shh.” She shook head, unwilling to talk yet. A vampire. She was a vampire. How the hell did a person forget that? How did I forget? I love vampires… Was that the key though? Or at least the reason for her passion for all things vampire? She loved them all—regardless of their mythology or abilities. Give a character a pair of fangs, a lust for blood and some sexy times, and she was all in.
Because I am one? I don’t drink blood…
They were inside the casino proper, just strolling arm in arm with their little entourage fanning out behind them. She barely noticed the blinking lights, soft sighs of disappointment or quivers of excitement rippling through the players they passed. Every one of the dancers came from somewhere. Some remembered, while some chose to forget. She didn’t know any other life.
She’d awoken that first day in her cell, and Heidi had introduced her to the dancers, and she went to work. It was what she did.
Night in and night out.
For fifty years…eighteen thousand nights…and I never really wondered why I didn’t remember. I didn’t care. Troubled, she ran her tongue against her upper teeth. The flat surfaces didn’t provide any answers. She explored her gum line, and despite the faint aching throb, no fangs popped out or descended or whatever the hell they actually did. Richard stopped abruptly, and she glanced up from her inner musings to see a blond gentleman blocking their path.
The tension flaring in the space between the two men was palpable. Glancing from Richard to the stranger and back again, Kiki gave him a nudge. “We can go around.”
“No. He can.” Richard rubbed her hand where it rested gently on his arm.
“Or you could introduce me.” The blond man took a step forward. Kiki didn’t see so much as feel Richard’s bodyguards close the gap behind them. Suppressed violence rippled through the air.
“She doesn’t need to know you.” The politeness in his tone didn’t conceal the disdain—or the dismissal.
“And maybe she would like to make that determination for herself.” Considering they both referred to her like she wasn’t present, she tugged her hand free from Richard’s arm and held it out to the blond. “Kiki.”
“Charming, Kiki. I am Andrew and very pleased to make your acquaintance.” He cupped her hand, his cool touch trailing ice over her fingers and, like Richard before him, brushed a kiss to her knuckles. But unlike Richard, his gaze didn’t lift to her so much as taunt the vampire at her side.