Waiting in the Wings

large platters of food and a frothy red drink. Her stomach growled, and Kiki laughed.

Richard grinned at her and released her hand. They dug in. The meat was exceptionally—downright bloody—rare. It tasted of heaven. The frothy drink was rich and super sweet. It did more to quench her hunger than the food. They spoke little, but he watched her eat with gusto throughout the meal. She refused to contain her enthusiasm. It had been a while since she’d been this hungry and, for the first time in days, she managed to assuage her cramping stomach.

Satisfied and replete, she let him reclaim her hand after the succubus cleared away the meal. The alcohol zooming through her system warmed her, relaxing the post-stage anxiety and filling her with a deep sense of contentment.

“So, tell me, Richard, where have you been all my life?” She meant the question to be playful, but a core of unexpected sadness echoed within the words.

His fingers tightened around hers. “Waiting for you, my love.”

Chapter Six

Stopping her from reading the file was an instinctual choice. He wanted her to know their life but he didn’t know what it actually contained. It could be lies, a carefully wedged play on the part of the casino to keep them apart. The lack of response from the Overseers rang his internal alarms, but it was more than that. He wanted Kristina to remember their love, not be told.

Her eyes darkened at his declaration, and he smiled. Her arousal perfumed the air around them.

“But why wait? I’ve been here for years.” The poignant question stabbed him.

“Because I was a thoughtless, self-centered prick.” The criticism—even self-directed—stung. But he couldn’t escape the truth of his actions. No matter his reasons or belief that she would come back—he had let her go and he hadn’t chased her.

Never again.

Kristina tilted her head. She picked up the Blooded Mary and wrinkled her nose when she found the glass empty. Richard caught the succubus’ eye and pointed to the drink. The woman bowed her head in acknowledgement. The fresh-blood drink had done wonders for her color, returning warmth to her pale cheeks and diminishing the sharpness of her features. No matter what else he did, he wanted her fully blooded before that curse broke. Starvation could drive the natural born vampire mad—the turned suffered a worse fate. Desiccation of the body led to destruction of the mind until only a revenant remained. Whatever curse held her bound kept her starving body alive.

The succubus delivered the drink, and Kristina picked it up with delight. She drank down nearly half of it before setting the glass down again. “Okay, I’m confused and I don’t mind admitting it. We knew each other before I woke up here. But I don’t remember the times before the casino. For me, I’ve always been here. This is my home and my family.”

The words hurt, but he ignored the abrasive scrape to his soul. He was her home and her family. The only family she needed—or wanted.

“And I wish I could explain that. But I can’t. I don’t know what happened to earn you this fate.” His internal clocked ticked loudly in his mind. So little time remained in his agreement with Andrew. The rest of this night and all of the next—a few scant hours. “We disagreed, as we often did. You left, as you always did.” He softened the words with a smile. “It was your habit to storm off in great dramatic fashion—just as it was your habit to return, and we would make up.”

“But I didn’t come back.” She licked her lips, as though tasting the truth of those words.

“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