"Fifteen million pounds," Gavin grumbled.
"I think you owe Lissa," René laughed and went to find Tony. Roff was staring at Gavin when René left. He didn't understand. The Raona had no money? She was the Queen. He shook his head and trotted out the door after Lissa.
"I didn't make that rule," Gavin announced to an empty room.
* * *
As plane rides went, that one sucked. The weather was bad—there was a storm over Missouri and I thought I was going to have to mist everybody out of the plane, including the pilot and copilot. Gavin had me out of my seat and crushed in his arms after we dropped several hundred feet at one point. Roff was terrified and holding onto whatever part of me Gavin didn't have locked up. I was never so glad to see the Oklahoma City airport in my life when we finally landed on solid ground.
Winkler even looked gray when we stepped off the plane. The bags were taken off and we rode a shuttle to our van. I heaved a huge sigh and buried my head against Gavin's shoulder as we drove toward Nichols Hills.
"Cara, we'll take a drive as soon as we get to the house," Gavin murmured against my ear. We did take a drive—a long one.
"This was my house," I said as we drove past the property. It had a for sale sign in the front yard. I wondered who'd get the money now. Of course, none of my belongings would be inside it anymore; Sara had probably sold all of it in a garage sale and I told Gavin that.
"Do you want the house, Cara?" Gavin asked me gently.
"It doesn't have anything that I want now, Gavin. What would I do with it, anyway?" All I had left were memories and those I carried with me—both good and bad.
"Sometimes I am jealous of your first husband," Gavin said.
"Why?" Gavin was driving and he turned to look at me briefly, his dark eyes raking my face when I asked the question.
"Because you said yes when he asked," Gavin turned away from me again, easing the van down the cul-de-sac I used to live on. "Lissa, I know I got you by trickery and default. I think I would have tried to kill anyone else that might have taken you away." His mouth was set in a grim line as he steered the van away from my old street.
"You always get what you want?" I asked, studying his face. A bit of sadness touched his features. I could tell he regretted many of the things that lay between us.
"You were the first thing in a very long time that I truly wanted," Gavin admitted quietly.
"I thought you were going to kill me for a long time," I mumbled and turned to look out my window.
"I would have paid for that in ways you cannot imagine," Gavin informed me, pulling onto Reno Avenue. "Bill gave me the results of Sara Workman's autopsy before we left Chicago." He was changing the subject.
"What did they find?" I almost didn't want to know.
"Heart failure, just as you said, cara."
"I wonder if he still wants to capture me," I said, meaning Xenides.
"I'm sure he wants you more than ever, love. He sees the potential in you. He could destroy countries with you, cara mia. That's what he thinks to do when he has you in his grip. He would have a good start, even without your help, if he and Alif had managed to kill the Vice President in Chicago." Gavin's words worried me, and I wondered who those two planned to target next.
"What a comforting thought," I slapped a hand over my face. Gavin drove us to a nearby motel that didn't look too bad, secured a room, called René to let him know we wouldn't be back for a while and proceeded to love me senseless.
* * *
Sunday, September fifth, Gavin and I rose at sunset, showered and checked out of our motel room. The young woman behind the desk was eyeing my ring as Gavin and I turned in our keys before we left.
"That looks expensive," she said.
"I'm sure it was," I smiled at her. Gavin gave me a dark look and shooed me out the door.
"I suppose you're wondering why I never bought you a ring," I grumped when we climbed into the van. Gavin turned sharply to look at me as he put the van in gear and backed out. "I'm not about to ask Merrill to pay for it," I said. "When I can get to my own money, you'll have one."
"Are we back to the money thing?" he asked quietly as we headed toward I-35.
"No, we're at the ring thing," I said. "There's nothing I can do about the money thing." When we arrived at the house in Nichols Hills, we found a werewolf from the Oklahoma City pack there. Winkler had asked him to move in for the present. The Packmaster for the Oklahoma City pack was there, too, and I was shocked to find that I knew him.
"Jerry?" I walked up to him while he shared a drink with Winkler and the other werewolf, whose name was Michael.
"Do I know you?" Jerry asked, frowning at me. He was getting the vampire scent, just as Michael was. They were supposed to know why they were here, weren't they? At least their hackles weren't up and they weren't growling.
"Yeah, or you used to," I said. Jerry was the assistant Chief of Police for the city. Gavin came up behind me, just in case I needed protection, I think.
"Jerry, this is Lissa," Winkler introduced us. The light went on for Jerry right then.
"Holy shit," he said, and held out his hand. "That's what happened to you."
"Yeah, that's what happened to me, all right," I said and shook his hand.
"We miss you down at the courthouse," Jerry said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at me. Jerry was in his eighties—as a werewolf. Everybody at the courthouse thought he was thirty-seven.
"I miss lunch," I countered. Jerry laughed.
"Jerry, this is Gavin, my husband," I introduced Gavin to Jerry. Jerry nodded and took Gavin's hand when it was offered.
"I'm sorry about Don," Jerry told me.
"Yeah, me too," I said. "If he were still alive, I wouldn't be here right now."
"Does what you are now have anything to do with David and Sara Workman's disappearance?" Jerry asked.
"Sort of," I said.
"Lissa's special, and now everyone is trying to get their hands on her," Winkler said. "Threats have been made and we're trying to get to the bottom of all of it. We're working with the Director of the Joint NSA and Homeland Security Department on it."
"Are you kidding me?" Jerry couldn't believe that.
"There's a special division of the FBI that has vampires and werewolves," Winkler grinned. "Obviously not many know about that."