Bad Blood by Mari Mancusi Read Free Book Online Page B

says it’s a really good idea. (Who would have thought?!) David seconds the motion, which is less surprising. After all, Slayer Inc. has a vested interest in keeping an eye on what goes down at the consortium and what better way to do so but to send the slayer herself down there to spy? (Not to mention, Rayne reminds me, it gives him a week of alone time to bonk Mom’s brains out. Ew.) He even has some spare frequent flyer tickets—first class!—to fly us out in style. Sweet!
    So after a luxurious plane ride with hot towels, a real meal with actual silverware, and all the Diet Cokes I can drink, we land at the Vegas airport. Which, I’m surprised to learn, has actual slot machines right in the terminal. As we wait for our bags, Rayne throws a quarter in one of them and not two seconds later, the machine spits out a receipt worth twenty bucks.
    “Oh my God! I love Vegas!” she squeals, jumping up and down, her newfound riches in hand.
    “Well, don’t forget, we’re not here to have fun,” I remind her as I yank her ridiculously heavy suitcase off the conveyer belt without any help. (What did she pack in here, rocks?) “We’re here to save the Blood Coven.”
    “I know, I know,” she replies, still staring down at her golden ticket. “And now we have the cab fare to do so. Well, at least one way.” She glances over at the glittery slot machine that had gifted her the twenty. “Maybe I could try to double our money . . .”
    Oh geez. I dive for her second bag off the carousel, wondering if maybe I should have come to Vegas alone.

    With traffic, the cab ride from the airport to Dad’s apartment takes about twenty minutes. We watch out the window as we enter a desert oasis of flashing neon lights, carnival-like rides, and high-rise hotels. The Vegas Strip. Sin City here we are.
    It’s a den of iniquity. But it’s also Disney World. Billboards featuring scantily clad women cling to every available surface, while a roller coaster rushes screaming children through its loop -de-loop. There’s a Sphinx-guarded pyramid, a colorful medieval castle, a half-scale replica of the Eiffel Tower. The strip is a canopy of light and sound and it’s packed with people wandering the streets. Some looking for that next lucky game, others for an amusing show or a hot club, still others for just a pretty girl to chat up. The excitement in the air is intoxicating and I almost wish we weren’t here on important business and could just enjoy the madness.
    The cabdriver takes a right turn immediately after passing the elegant Wynn Hotel and pulls into the circular driveway of a steel and glass high-rise apartment building called The Tower. I glance down at the directions I printed out. Sure enough, this is it. Nice digs, Dad.
    “Are you nervous?” I ask my sister as I pay the driver. (Back at the airport Rayne had inserted her “cab fare” ticket back into the “lucky machine” and subsequently lost all of it, including her original quarter.) “About seeing Dad I mean.”
    “Not about seeing Dad necessarily,” Rayne says as she steps out of the cab and heads to the trunk to retrieve her luggage. “More about meeting the new family.”
    Good point. We’d never met the woman who Dad left Mom for. Or our stepsiblings for that matter. What would they be like? I guess we’d be finding out very, very soon.
    A blast of hot air hits me square in the face as the taxi pulls out of the driveway and back onto the Strip. It’s got to be at least a hundred degrees out here—a far cry from the typical forty-degree weather we’ve been having back in Massachusetts. I’ve only been outside for like two seconds and already I’m soaked to the skin.
    Rayne, on the other hand, looks cool as a cucumber as she effortlessly walks her two heavy suitcases to the front doors of the building. She doesn’t even have any sweat stains under her arms and she’s wearing a black wool sweater, for goodness’ sake! Damn vampires. Lucky for her,