Odds and Evens

[st_clare]

The tiny white ball on the roulette wheel bounced as it spun, and the small crowd around the table held their collective breath as it gradually slowed down. Stacks of chips had been placed on green felt, waiting to either be lost to the house or scooped back into the possession of their bettors. In Las Vegas, the casino business was booming.

Julianna had been telling Devin the truth. She didn't usually gamble, and she didn't really approve of the people who frequented such establishments. But she was so frustrated after the incident with Holiday that she'd purposely bought a few hundred dollars worth of chips to spend an evening at the tables. A gimlet sat near her left hand. She was not drunk, just slightly tipsy.

"Black 24. Black 24. The house wins."

The Watcher sampled her drink, watched the croupier collect the bets that had been placed as a mutter rose above the table. She should quit while she hadn't lost much, cut her losses. Not just with money, but with people as well. If the girl was determined to destroy herself, she couldn't stop her. She had quite enough guilt on her conscience, and Gregory's memory aside she didn't owe Holiday anything.

"Place your bets, please, the next spin is coming up."

Julianna placed some chips on Red 18, looked around for a server to get a refill. There were no bloody clocks in this place, and she'd left her watch on her bedside table. Never mind the time. She could leave once she'd lost the last of her chips.

Comments

[daniel_stacy]

A chair emptied at the table and a blonde man took over occupancy. He rubbed his red eyes and then steepled his palms in front of his face. Daniel had been out of bed less than an hour and he looked as sluggish as he felt; his brain had been churning out serious introspection all day and he didn't get to sleep until the sun tinged the horizon orange.

He slowly rubbed his hands together and ordered a domestic beer from a waitress carrying a tray of drinks. He placed a couple of chips on a black number at random and cleared his throat. The wheel spun.

"Come on, come on," he muttered. "Papa needs to pay the electric bill." Not even death could save you from the power company.

[st_clare]

She heard the mutter because he'd taken up the chair next to her, and someone on the other side of the table made a shushing noise. Julianna glared at the shusher, who ducked away from making eye contact, then deposited her empty glass on the waitress' tray and picked up her refill. The ball made a clicking sound on the little slots of the wheel.

"Red 18. Red 18. The lady wins."

The Englishwoman gave a reserved smile, collected her small amount of winnings. At least she'd had some good luck to offset her aggravation. Perhaps recreational gambling wasn't too much of a vice after all.

[daniel_stacy]

Daniel’s mouth puckered at the corner. Figured. He watched her collect the tokens with no particular animosity. He was man enough to admit that terrible judgment and the unkind wheel of fate had taken his cash, not the lady who smelled like lime juice. He leaned closer and said, “You know what that chip represents? My refrigerator getting re-purposed as a coat closet.” As her fingers closed around another chip, he added, “That one there, that’s the light in the bathroom.”

He imagined himself pissing into the laundry basket on accident.

He sat back and stretched his arms overhead. Daniel wore a blue cotton t-shirt. The undersides of his biceps were pale and lined with veins the same color. When the beer came, he saluted the waitress with it and knocked some back. He listened to the amber liquid bubbling up the bottle neck.

[st_clare]

Julianna turned, an amused expression on her face, and then looked up to make eye contact. Blond, mid-to-late twenties, well-built. The shirt was new, she could see the creases where it was freshly unfolded from the package. Not well-dressed enough to be a professional gambler.

"It's the first time I've won," she said. "The odds always favor the house, which is why I don't wager much. But roulette is a better bet than cards, because there are fewer chances for some blighter at the table to cheat. Are you behind on your rent?"

[daniel_stacy]

“Perpetually,” he said.

The odds might be bad, but Daniel liked cards. There was camaraderie in it and the game gave him a chance to sit down with a bunch of guys and blend: human or vampire, it didn’t matter if you slapped money on the table. He was goddamned awful at reading other players – even worse at cultivating his own poker face. His wins stayed small because he was the self-satisfied schmuck chuckling when he got dealt a good hand.
He looked at the woman, who he guessed to be a retiree blowing some savings bonds. Daniel knew she was old money because he came from old money. The eau de toilette, the tailored blouse, the jewelry (understated but expensive). “I’m what you might call a free-loader’,” he said. The women in his family hated free-loaders more than they hated immigrants and that was saying a lot. He let himself slide into old habits; he said whatever he thought might get a rise out of the dreaded trio: Mother, Aunt, Grandmother.

“I’m between jobs right now. Can’t seem to find anything that,” he put a hand to his chest, “lets me be me. I’ve been thinking maybe golf caddy? Valet? Nah, too much sun damage. Gotta keep my youthful complexion. “ He smiled, a pleased man-child, from all indications.

[st_clare]

If she'd been sober, it probably would have annoyed her, but she was just tipsy enough to not take offense. She needed less aggravation, not more. The croupier asked for bets to be placed, and she put down some chips without really glancing at the number or the color.

"I'd have said gigolo, but you're not oily enough for that." The vodka had loosened Julianna's tongue, broken down some of her English reserve, and she studied the bottle of beer in his hand. Domestic, not imported. College student on a lark?

"I take it this is not your regular haunt?"

[daniel_stacy]

Gigolo? Was his roommate wearing off on him? He snorted pleasantly and let it go. If a woman thought him attractive enough to launch a career in male escorting, he wasn’t going to get his boxers in a knot. He briefly considered what it would be like, forging a long-term relationship with a woman in exchange for cash when he was a good boy. It was a little too reminiscent of lining up for an allowance with his palms out. ’Please, ma’am, may I have some more?’

He put his money on Red 34.

“You’re very perceptive,” he said, tipping the bottle to her. “Thought I’d try something new. You a tourist?” He shook his head and leaned his forearms on the table. “Not that it’s a bad thing. Seems like nobody's really from Las Vegas. You aren’t, not with that accent. You in town for a few days or planning on staying?”

A casino manager leaned over the croupier and whispered something. Daniel was watchful. The man had a hell of a carotid artery. The thing bulged. That kind of thing used to gross him out, especially when guys lifted weights at the gym. Now it was awesome.

[st_clare]

"I just signed a lease on an apartment."

The ink was barely dry on the rental agreement, in fact, and she was relieved to not have to subject herself to hotel living for much longer. Hotels were for vacations and trips for work, not permanent addresses. Besides, she wanted to send for some of her books, and she couldn't do that without a real home.

"I'm a professor at UNLV," she said, waving in the general direction of the college with the drink in her hand. "Just came to terms on that not too long ago. It was the reason I made the trip across the pond."

[daniel_stacy]

“Oh yeah? No shit.” He was impressed. “It may surprise you to know that I’ve attempted one-hundred and forty-two college credits. Not a degree in sight. I tried, ‘s gotta be worth something.” He raised a fist halfheartedly and added, “Go Pikes.” The vampire’s eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled.

He heard the call of ‘Red 32’ and threw his hands in the air. “Ohhhh! Close but no cigar.” Daniel shifted on his stool and twisted his tennis shoes into the rungs. One of his feet twitched rhythmically. The population around the table was shifting as people came and went. What he needed, Daniel thought, was a good luck charm. Silver over here wasn’t doing the trick.

[st_clare]

"I thought you looked old enough to have been at university," Julianna said with an answering smile. "What did you attempt to major in, or were there several changes in plans? It sounds as if you were a bit of a professional student."

Her winnings dwindled a bit more as she placed a bet, and she idly tried to decide what his name might be. Something modern, probably.This must have been his stag night. She could relate to that.

"The trick is, only bring to the table what you can afford to lose. I only brought a small amount of cash tonight. It staves off the urge to take foolish risks."

[daniel_stacy]

“Hm. That’s a shame,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “I like a gal who takes risks.” The vampire leaned back and swigged his beer. His Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down as the bitter liquid washed down his throat. Once it was empty, Daniel set it on the felt cover of the table with a thump. “I was a comm major,” he said. “Eighty percent of communication is nonverbal, orange makes you hungry, and if a woman touches her neck when we’re talking, I should stop what I’m doing and give her my number immediately. I quit paying attention after the neck part.”

He sifted through his small pillar of chips, plunking each one onto the next. “You’re not a comm professor, are you?”

[st_clare]

"Linguistics, actually."

It wasn't that she didn't have her adventurous side, but she usually saved it for her personal life. She'd never taken a professional risk in her life, had always obeyed the rules and followed protocol. Had he meant to sound so...

Hmm.

The casino manager came back and murmured something in the croupier's ear, and the white-shirted employee left his station and was soon replaced by a brunette in her mid-thirties. The luck of the wheel was about to change, and it made Julianna considered gathering up her chips and moving to a different table. She was a decent poker player if nothing spectacular.

"And I suppose it depends on the sort of risk you're talking about," she added, putting the previous idea aside for the moment. "Hang gliding? Para-sailing? Deep sea diving?"

[daniel_stacy]

There’s definitely a dive involved.

He tamped that down fast. No need to get descriptive.

“I don’t know.” Daniel scratched at the back of his head and let his arm flop into his lap. “Somebody who’s not afraid to put herself out there,” he said, making up an answer as he talked. “I don’t mean extreme sports. That’s an adrenaline junky. There’s too many fail-safes. I mean act first, ask questions later.”

Preferably in black pantyhose with a hole in the knee.

“By the way, you’re not supposed to espouse the virtues of caution in Vegas,” he said with a good-natured smile. On his other side, a woman took a seat and began counting out her chips. The motion caught his eye and Daniel darted a quick look, just to keep track of his surroundings. An elaborate cross dangled from a chain around her neck. He did a double-take. “It’s uh…”

The hairs on his arms stood on end.

“It’s patronizing.”

[st_clare]

She saw the way his gaze darted to the right, chalked it up to the sudden close proximity. The casino wasn't as crowded as a nightclub would have been, but there were enough other bodies around for it to be noticeable. She had the same spatial awareness, even though her senses weren't as enhanced as a Slayer's.

"If I was patronizing you, you'd know it," the Watcher said, but she was smiling just a bit. They really must pour their drinks strong here. "I'd probably smirk more."

The betting at the table had resumed, and Julianna toyed with a chip while she considered another drink. No, she should stop. She didn't want to get sloppy. Tipsy was fine, drunk was not.

"Personal risk can be quite thrilling," she said thoughtfully. "Provided that you're talking about...well, the physical. Physicality."

[daniel_stacy]

‘Physicality’.

That jerked him back to the moment. Daniel schooled his face to stay pointed at the game, but his eyes shifted. Huh. Was Silver implying she approved of – possibly even led – a risqué’ sex life? It would explain why she broached the topic of oily gigolos. Another thing he picked up in comm class: when a woman fidgeted with an object like a wine glass or a piece of jewelry, there was a good chance her mind was in the gutter.

Well, damn. That’ll teach me not to judge a dirty book by its conservative cover.

The cross kept catching the light as the other gambler leaned forward to place her chips on the felt. Daniel rubbed his cheek and sat forward. Fingertips drummed on the table, one-two-three-one-two-three, as he resisted the urge to break the chain and fling the pendant across the room. Out of sight, out of mind.

He ought to get out of there. Grab his chips, cash out, and rustle up food.

“I’m starving, I think I’m gonna get out of here.”

[st_clare]

Had she shocked him? Delightful. The young always misjudged the old. She was proud of still being a sexual creature, and the years had done little to dull her urges.

"Yes, they don't seem to serve food here, just alcohol," Julianna said. "I should imagine that liquor is what fuels people to stay at the tables until their pockets are empty. I'll have to leave soon enough if this losing streak continues."

The wheel spun, and she forced herself to stop unstacking and re-stacking her chips. Devin was still in the 'maybe' column, and she wanted to see where that led rather than try to pick up someone because she was mildly aroused. On the other hand, it was her last night here.

Hmm.

"I'm going to retire to my room after this spin. Order a late dinner. Leave before I lose my shirt, as they say. Besides, I have a phone call to make."

[daniel_stacy]

His fingers tapped on.

Should he offer to walk the lady to her room and go for a bite at the door? If he muffled her mouth and kept her away from fragile table lamps, there was a good chance nobody would hear the struggle; Daniel would bet money her neighbors were either out living it up or curled in fetal position next to the toilet, wasted beyond caring. The biggest danger was the potential for surveillance cameras on the casino floor, in the lobby, and perched at the ends of hallways. Match his face to the name on his credit card and Daniel was up shit creek in a leaky boat.

Man. He needed to start stealing.

“What’s your name?” he asked, still weighing the pros and cons of taking a chunk out of her neck. “I’m Daniel.” He extended his hand.

[st_clare]

Daniel. A good Biblical name. Julianna finished her drink, having promised herself it would be her last, considered his hand. She'd have said that her earlier remark hadn't necessarily been an invitation, but she didn't believe in playing coy. Besides, she was simply weighing her options.

"Julianna," she said, reaching out and allowing her smaller hand to interlock with his. His palm was cool against hers. The Watcher frowned. Poor circulation? Her eyebrows arched. Certainly not...

"Julianna St. Clare."

[daniel_stacy]

Julianna… Julianna…

Where had he heard that name? Daniel put a finger to his mouth. “Wait a second.” If he couldn’t make this connection, it was gonna kill him all night. It was recent, too. Television? It hadn’t been a book, that much was for sure. He heard a feminine voice in his head. ‘You know about slayers? Julianna won’t tell me anything..’

She was British. She was British…

“No shit!”

He slapped her on the upper arm and kept pumping the other hand.

“We’ve got somebody in common! You know Holly, right?”

[st_clare]

Wait a bloody minute...

The cheerful smack to her bicep felt just a touch too strong, but it might have been the alcohol. Julianna's expression displayed her confusion, but she didn't remove her hand from Daniel's. If she was wrong and caused a scene, she'd be embarrassed. Perhaps he had some sort of condition.

But if she was right...

"If you're speaking of Holiday, yes, we're acquainted," she said, and she could feel her expression wanting to sour but controlled herself. The girl was just angry. Angry and rude. And taking things out on her.

"She's mentioned me, I take it?" What was the girl playing at?

[daniel_stacy]

Holly was short for Holiday. “Heh…” He started to grin. It was cute. She hadn’t told him that. He ended the handshake and said, “Uh, yeah. She mentioned you knew her dad, right?” Daniel unhooked his feet from the stool rungs and resettled himself. There hadn’t been any vitriol in Holly’s conversation about the woman, so he carried on clueless as to the tension between them and stretched to put his chips in his pocket.

Knew the dad… wouldn’t tell her anything… about what?

He stuck his tongue between his back teeth and tried to call up the specifics of the conversation. They had been sitting side by side on the carpet in Holly's hotel room. About the way the man died? No, about slayers. Julianna worked with Holly’s dad, a watcher who worked with slayers to stake vampires.

Ah crap. He winced, a hand remaining in his pocket as the revelation happened. He probably looked like a tourist who realized he had forgotten his car keys.

[st_clare]

"Gregory and I were very good friends."

All right, so that was an exaggeration, but Julianna was watching Daniel now, gauging his reaction with the suspicion of the longtime Watcher. What was Holiday doing with him, this young man with the cold hands?

And good God, she'd briefly entertained the notion of inviting him upstairs to bed him.

"I take it you haven't known one another long?" she inquired, her expression oddly placid considering her current thought process. "Holiday's only been in America for a short time. Where did you meet?"

[daniel_stacy]

There it was again. Holiday. Daniel bet people sang Madonna to her all the time.

“Couple of weeks?” he guessed. “We met on the street, just walking around. Sometimes we hang out.” Now he was understating things. Well, he thought, what was he supposed to say, that the charming daughter of Julianna’s old vamp-killing buddy had stripped off her clothes for a dead guy and rocked his world? “Nice girl,” he added for good measure, and, “Small world. Well, any friend of Holiday’s is a friend of mine. That’s uh… that’s what I say.”

She probably carries a vial of holy water in her giant pocketbook. That’s what I need, a face full of disfiguring Jesus juice.

[st_clare]

"Yes. She's very personable."

Should she try to reach Holiday, confirm her suspicions? There was no one to tell since Gregory was dead, and she couldn't sound an alarm here in public because it would be like shouting 'Fire' in a crowded room. Julianna wondered if Daniel could hear her heartbeat, the way her pulse had spiked. Not necessarily from fear, but from the potential for action. If she was right, how long had he been above-ground?

"I'm afraid she's a bit cross with me," the Watcher said evenly. "I didn't tell her something, and perhaps I should have. But I gave my word that I would remain silent, and so that's what I did. She promised to hold a grudge."

[daniel_stacy]

“Yeah, she’s got a thing about that,” Daniel said and his eyes clouded. “People telling her what they think she wants to hear. But she’s a big girl, and what’s the use keeping a promise to somebody who’s dead when she’s standing right in front of you?” He had surrendered all pretense of gambling and so he ought to relinquish his seat before the manager got testy. He got to his feet and counted out the money to cover his tab. “Ya know, I might be crazy, but… I think that’s why she likes me, Julianna. I’ve got nothin’ to hide.”

He signaled the waitress and gave her the cash. "No change."

[st_clare]

'I think that's why she likes me, Julianna. I've got nothin' to hide.'

Julianna's smile tightened down at the corners, but she planted her feet. "Yes, perhaps. And I imagine that you'd be the type to say that."

To run after Holiday or not? She'd reached out to the girl once before and gotten her hand smacked for it. Given the circumstances, a promise made was a promise kept, although if the request had come from anyone other than Edmund, she might have broken her silence. Might have.

"Do tell her that I said hello," the Watcher said. "And that I'd be delighted to hear from her. I would like to...mend fences if it's at all possible."

[daniel_stacy]

“Oh yeah, I’ll be sure to,” he said, nodding like a reasonable guy. “No reason to stay ticked off, right? Life’s too short.” Daniel cast a final look around the table and at Julianna. He needed to get out of there before she figured out he was a vampire, if she hadn’t already. Why did he touch her? He needed to stop with the social graces; sooner or later, it would bite him in the ass.

So much for keeping a low profile.

“See ya around, Jules.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder and left.

[st_clare]

Jules. She couldn't believe his cheek. His nerve almost made her laugh. God, she needed some stress relief.

Julianna gathered up her remaining chips, headed for the cashout window. She would not think about Holiday anymore tonight. The girl had the habit of souring her mood. Whatever she was doing with Daniel, it might be best to let things run their course. If she was right and he was a vampire, he might have a short attention span. The undead supposedly did.

As long as whatever happened didn't fall on her conscience, it would perhaps be best to stay out of it.