principle was.
Kelsey let out a whoop. "Cool! And you have to wear something blue. You look hot in blue."
That was all that mattered then.
----
Chapter Seven
Normally, Nate knew how to take a hint.
But he wasn't feeling particularly normal.
He stood in the lobby at the Ava, feeling exhausted, gritty, stubborn. The lingering taste of bad coffee was in his mouth, and his shoulder muscles were screaming from being taut with stress all day.
So Gwenna Carrick had slipped out on him. He should leave it at that. Let it go.
But he didn't want to. He wasn't in the mood to put up with a disappearing act. If she didn't want to see him again, fine, whatever, but she should have said it to his face. There should have been a good-bye. What was so fucking hard about that?
And he had some questions for her regarding the dead guy in the train station. Some interesting little facts had popped up during the course of the day and he was curious as to what her reaction would be to the news.
Nate went up to the front desk. "I need to speak to Gwenna Carrick. What room is she in?"
"I'm sorry." The desk clerk gave him a generic smile, her blond hair sliding over her boxy uniform jacket. "I can't give out that kind of information."
Extracting his badge from his pocket and holding it up in front of her, Nate said, "I'm Detective Thomas with the Las Vegas Metro Police. I need to speak to Ms. Carrick about an ongoing murder investigation."
The girl blanched. "Oh, um. Hold on. Let me get my supervisor." She turned and ran off.
Nate was tempted to just reach over the counter and type Gwenna's name into the computer, but he restrained himself. Five minutes later he had the information he needed and he was in the elevator heading to the twenty-first floor.
He had questions and he was going to get answers.
Gwenna scanned through her e-mail, checking both her private account and the slayers' loop for signs of Slash.
There were posts from him the night before, but that was unreliable as far as she was concerned. Sometimes e-mails hit the loop immediately, sometimes there were random and unpredictable delays. It didn't prove that Slash wasn't the guy now lying in the morgue.
The possibility of his death made her shiver. Not that she had any reason to feel guilty. He had suggested the meeting location, and in his many posts, Slash hadn't come off as a particularly nice guy, but still. It wasn't like being a bit of a shit in e-mail justified popping someone off.
But she actually discovered a personal e-mail from Slash to her that appeared to have been sent that morning, given the time listed in the header. That was promising and she went to click on it when the doorbell rang.
"Damn." She really wanted to see what Slash had to say. Scanning it quickly as she stood up, she read a quick apology from him for missing their scheduled meeting. He'd had to work, he said, and couldn't get away in time.
The doorbell rang again and Gwenna jogged over, vampire speed, her mind processing Slash's e-mail. If he was at work the night before, surely he couldn't have been killed and stuffed behind a ticket dispenser then. That meant it was all a coincidence. The murder victim had nothing to do with Slash or the slayers' loop. And she'd just been stood up.
It was a total relief.
She opened the door without checking the peephole, expecting to see Alexis or Kelsey, early for their concert outing. Kelsey had threatened to bring a big giant bag of makeup to play with on Gwenna. Already intent on protesting, she yanked the door open and opened her mouth, an adage about "less is more" on her lips.
The words died when she realized it was Nate at her door. Looking tired, angry, and impatient, if his raised hand was any indication. He was going for a third knock with a taut fist.
"Hi!" she said inanely, wishing like hell she wasn't wearing yoga pants. But she'd just thrown them on after a shower, knowing Kelsey would insist on going through her closet
Kelsey let out a whoop. "Cool! And you have to wear something blue. You look hot in blue."
That was all that mattered then.
----
Chapter Seven
Normally, Nate knew how to take a hint.
But he wasn't feeling particularly normal.
He stood in the lobby at the Ava, feeling exhausted, gritty, stubborn. The lingering taste of bad coffee was in his mouth, and his shoulder muscles were screaming from being taut with stress all day.
So Gwenna Carrick had slipped out on him. He should leave it at that. Let it go.
But he didn't want to. He wasn't in the mood to put up with a disappearing act. If she didn't want to see him again, fine, whatever, but she should have said it to his face. There should have been a good-bye. What was so fucking hard about that?
And he had some questions for her regarding the dead guy in the train station. Some interesting little facts had popped up during the course of the day and he was curious as to what her reaction would be to the news.
Nate went up to the front desk. "I need to speak to Gwenna Carrick. What room is she in?"
"I'm sorry." The desk clerk gave him a generic smile, her blond hair sliding over her boxy uniform jacket. "I can't give out that kind of information."
Extracting his badge from his pocket and holding it up in front of her, Nate said, "I'm Detective Thomas with the Las Vegas Metro Police. I need to speak to Ms. Carrick about an ongoing murder investigation."
The girl blanched. "Oh, um. Hold on. Let me get my supervisor." She turned and ran off.
Nate was tempted to just reach over the counter and type Gwenna's name into the computer, but he restrained himself. Five minutes later he had the information he needed and he was in the elevator heading to the twenty-first floor.
He had questions and he was going to get answers.
Gwenna scanned through her e-mail, checking both her private account and the slayers' loop for signs of Slash.
There were posts from him the night before, but that was unreliable as far as she was concerned. Sometimes e-mails hit the loop immediately, sometimes there were random and unpredictable delays. It didn't prove that Slash wasn't the guy now lying in the morgue.
The possibility of his death made her shiver. Not that she had any reason to feel guilty. He had suggested the meeting location, and in his many posts, Slash hadn't come off as a particularly nice guy, but still. It wasn't like being a bit of a shit in e-mail justified popping someone off.
But she actually discovered a personal e-mail from Slash to her that appeared to have been sent that morning, given the time listed in the header. That was promising and she went to click on it when the doorbell rang.
"Damn." She really wanted to see what Slash had to say. Scanning it quickly as she stood up, she read a quick apology from him for missing their scheduled meeting. He'd had to work, he said, and couldn't get away in time.
The doorbell rang again and Gwenna jogged over, vampire speed, her mind processing Slash's e-mail. If he was at work the night before, surely he couldn't have been killed and stuffed behind a ticket dispenser then. That meant it was all a coincidence. The murder victim had nothing to do with Slash or the slayers' loop. And she'd just been stood up.
It was a total relief.
She opened the door without checking the peephole, expecting to see Alexis or Kelsey, early for their concert outing. Kelsey had threatened to bring a big giant bag of makeup to play with on Gwenna. Already intent on protesting, she yanked the door open and opened her mouth, an adage about "less is more" on her lips.
The words died when she realized it was Nate at her door. Looking tired, angry, and impatient, if his raised hand was any indication. He was going for a third knock with a taut fist.
"Hi!" she said inanely, wishing like hell she wasn't wearing yoga pants. But she'd just thrown them on after a shower, knowing Kelsey would insist on going through her closet
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