By Blood We Live

As he neared her, it all became so clear-he was the honest man she'd saved earlier by feeding on the assassin. The irony made her smile.

"Excuse me, Miss, may I have a word with you?"

She turned and regarded the near breathless dealer and then the man that stood behind him.

She nodded, already knowing what the problem was. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this," she said, looking past the dealer into the eyes of pure intrigue. "I was bored, gave him a large tip of my own volition. He didn't steal anything from your casino." She flashed a purse full of chips worth close to fifty thousand dollars. "Look, I have more." She pulled out another five grand and handed it to the dealer. "Just so you gentlemen who watch transactions can be clear that I did tip the man."

"See, see what I mean, Tony!" The dealer held the chips out to Tony to take, still nervous.

"You're straight, you can go back to your table and open up," Tony said quietly, not looking at the dealer, his eyes transfixed on her. "Buy you a drink?"

She gave him a half-smile. "Mind if we get out of here and go somewhere less frenetic? This place is giving me a headache."

"Great minds think alike. I'm Tony."

"Pleased to meet you, Antonio. I am Odette."

"How did you know my full name was Antonio and not just plain Anthony?"

"Because you are a complicated man and Anthony is way too simplistic for you."

"How about that drink… somewhere out of here?"

"I would adore a Vodka martini."

He nodded. "My favorite."

"Good," she murmured. "

Très bon."

Fat Joe took the phone away from his ear slowly, every man in the booth watching Tony leave the casino alone after money had again changed hands. "They just found Donny all fucked up in his room over at the Trump. Can't figure out what the fuck happened to him. Wasn't an ounce of blood in 'im."

"That shit is crazy," Lou said, standing. "Tony had to know Donny was gonna do 'im tonight… 'cuz look at the segment of floor activity he was checking out before he got all weird on us."

Fat Joe came around the desks, moving his heft swiftly to lean in and see where Lou pointed. Other henchmen in the room joined in.

"Look at that shit. I don't understand it, but somehow he must have either erased the person's image or somethin'. The dealer looks nervous, five large goes across the table. The dealer asks old Stan something, and then our boy shuts down his monitors, goes downstairs, right. He has a little talk, the dealer walks with him away from the black jack area over toward poker, they put more cash in the dealer's hand and he leaves."

"So, the black kid is working undercover with him and they got old Stan to turn a blind eye, you think?" Fat Joe stood up straight, outrage making his face turn red.

"Yeah, and helping himself to a little pocket lining just like the other feds… but how he got to Donny, that's what I wanna know."

Fat Joe looked at Lou. "Does that matter how they did it? They tried to infiltrate us, are stealing money from us-even if it is a punk ass amount, and they killed a good man. The boss said to be sure that crazy bastard Tony got put down hard tonight. We can't have undercover cops thinking they can violate us like that. So, it's good he's off the premises. Saves us the trouble of having to ask him to go for a little ride."

"I'll round up the fellas," Lou said with a slight smile.

The place where he'd taken her was a dive, but it was quiet. The short walk away from the casino district had allowed her thoughts to gather along with her impressions of him. Pain so deep and so profound cloaked him and she'd almost reached out to touch him to try to dispel it.

"You're an honest man," she said, once the bartender had taken their drink orders. "Noble."

"No man is without sin," he replied, staring into her eyes. "Sin stains nobility."

"I didn't say you were without sin, I said you were an honest man. To kill those who have brutalized those you love is an honest emotion."

Her words made him draw back and a frown replaced his once serene expression. "You need to talk to me-quickly."

She smiled. "I am not your nemesis, nor your enemy." She released a sigh as their drinks came, knowing she'd never be able to sip hers without a bit of blood mixer. "There was a man in the hotel, over at the Trump Taj Mahal… Donny, I think his name was."

"Was?" Tony leaned in to her and grabbed her arm.

"Was," she said flatly. "He knew who you were; they all do, I suppose, if they sent him to kill you."

"He's dead?" Tony slowly let go of her arm and then cautiously downed half his martini. "How do you know all of this?"

"Because I eliminated him."

Incredulous, he simply stared at her for a moment. "You work for them and you've now set me up?"

She shook her head no. "Have the rest of your martini. I don't work for anyone, haven't in

years. He was an asshole, a very bad man, the type I despise, so…"

"Then how do you know all of this-like how you knew my name?" Tony's voice was a low, threatening rumble.

"If I told you, you'd never believe me."