Free Born To Be Wilde: Immortal Vegas, Book 3 by Jenn Stark Page A

good time to start.
    Nikki kept going. “But probably not unless he’s been active in the US.” She turned to me. “This Viktor guy is the one who put up those flyers?”
    “Maybe.” I twirled my bourbon. “No way to know.”
    “There aren’t any more of them, at least nowhere near the Strip,” Nikki said. “The construction people also report that they don’t allow posting, so the flyers couldn’t have been up for more than a few hours at the outside. Considering you were coming in from Germany…”
    “He had to know my schedule.”
    “Down to the minute, dollface. That car was waiting for you.”
    “I notice you never reported your involvement as a concerned citizen, including your banged-up limo.” It was Brody’s turn to scowl at Nikki. “You see anything that could be helpful?”
    “Two cars, out-of-state plates, rentals. Late-model sedans, nothing special. The damaged one’s either been dumped or retooled, I’m thinking. Two men in car number one, or two very big females. You see anything in yours?”
    “Two occupants, not large, could go either way.”
    “So four hitmen to one Sara.” Nikki raised her glass. “You’re coming up in the world.” She eyed me over the rim. “You want to tell me what happened in Germany, since we’re all being chatty like?”
    I stiffened. “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, you weren’t surprised, dollface. The posters threw you, but not the shooters. Job go south?”
    I suddenly didn’t care about keeping confidences. Nothing really mattered anymore. “Viktor hired an old friend to track me down. My friend did, but he also gave me enough breathing room to split.”
    Nikki nodded. “Who else knew your location?”
    “What old friend?” asked Brody. I didn’t bother answering that one.
    “Client. No one else.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to keep it secret, though. Private jet into Germany, but public transport from there. The art auction was well-known in the right circles.”
    “Art auction,” Brody said flatly. “Is this another job for that Kreios character? No wonder you got shot at.”
    “No shooting in Germany. And let’s face it, they could have shot me last night if they’d really wanted to.”
    “Definitely. We were sitting ducks.” Nikki tilted her head, her blonde hair bouncing. “Of course, if they shot to separate us, that certainly worked.”
    At that moment, I hit critical mass on both the conversation and my liquid intake, and batted at Brody until he let me slide out of the booth to hit the bathroom. Walking through the bar was surreal. My head was buzzing from the alcohol, but not nearly enough. It was buzzing more from the bomb Brody had dropped at his house. He’d held that information back from me for weeks. Why? Had he ever been planning to tell me? Did he not think I had a right to know?
    In the bathroom, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the eyes of a stranger. Not Sariah Pelter. Not Sara Wilde. Not anyone I knew anymore.
    It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, though. It felt almost…right.
    And that really did make me nervous.
    When I finally wheeled out of the bathroom and back into the bar, I heard a familiar Southern drawl exclaim with delight at finding “Duh-TECT-ive Ruhks” and Nikki.
    Dixie Quinn. Astrologer and owner of the Chapel of Everlasting Love in the Stars. Mother hen to all the Connecteds in Vegas.
    And…Brody’s current arm candy.
    The biggest part of me, the childish part, wanted to do nothing but waltz right out of the bar and into the relative freedom of the Vegas street…possibly into an oncoming car. If only to put a new spin on the day.
    But as I watched Brody’s face as he gazed up at Dixie, something twisted inside me. Not a bad twist, I was surprised to note. It was more similar to the detached sensation I’d experienced looking at my own reflection. Brody wasn’t mine to want, not anymore. Not ever, really. The Sariah Pelter who’d known him was a girl who had never