"Another fucking royal flush!" a huge, balding man growled, dumping his own cards across the table. "That's the third tonight, LeBeau!"

A tall, skinny man in a dark jacket and matching hat, dragged a pile of chips across the table, increasing his own pile drastically. "What can I say," he replied, smiling, "I'm a lucky man."

"Mind dealing me in, boys?" a young woman asked, sitting down at the table across from LeBeau. She had dark, curly hair and a pale, slender figure, offset by a denim jacket underneath of which she was wearing a lacy lavender dress.

"Ah, are you sure, Vera?" LeBeau asked, giving her a meaningful look.

"Positive," she replied, shooting him a wicked grin.

The bald man groaned at the end of the next game, tossing the rest of his cards on the table, "That's it, I'm out."

"Thanks for playing," Vera said, beaming and sliding the pot in her direction.

"I'm out too," a short, bearded man chimed in, laying his cards out as well "I'm gonna go grab a beer."

"Aw, come on!," Vera grumbled before turning to LeBeau, "You're still playing, right Remy?" She was surprised to see that he was looking elsewhere.

"What's wrong?" her voice asked in the back of his head.

"Nothing, mon cheri. I'll be right back," he thought in reply. She frowned, watching him go.

Remy stepped outside to find a slightly short, but muscular man waiting for him just outside the Casino. He was wearing blue jeans with a thick belt, plaid shirt, and dark leather jacket. He lit a cigar and placed it in his mouth.

"What brings you to New York City, Logan?" Remy asked, leaning against the wall.

"Lookin' for answers," the man replied, letting off a puff of smoke, "Hoping you could help."

Remy sighed, "I'm with you, but I'm not sure what exactly you expect me to do."

"You are the first person I saw, or at least remember seeing," Logan said, "You're the only friend I had on that damn island. Even if you don't have any answers, you can help me find 'em."

Remy glanced back at the casino door. "Meet me at the Denny's on 41st and 8th first thing tomorrow morning," he said.

"Thanks," Logan said, turning to leave.

"Don't mention it," Remy replied, moving to go back inside.

Vera was waiting for him just past the door. "I'm coming with you," she said, not waiting for him to speak.

He frowned, speaking sharply, "No, you are not. I don't want to argue about this, fillete."

"You won't have to," Vera snapped, glaring at him, "because it's not your decision to make."

He shook his head before saying, "It will be dangerous. You could get hurt."

"So could you," she pointed out, annoyed, "I've been living on the streets of New York for years now. I think I can handle myself." Remy looked at Vera with a tired expression, knowing it was hopeless to fight her once she'd made up her mind about something. "Let's play another round," she said, more gently in an attempt to change the subject. He sighed, following her back to the table.

---

Victor and Annessa raced across the compound. She stuffed the PDA back in her pocket as they burst through the main entrance, the sound of distant sirens ringing in their ears. Victor followed her down a gravel road, turning into a small campground where she'd parked her Ferrari. He stood impatiently by the passenger door as she rummaged around under her seat.

"Here," she said, tossing him a towel and a bottle of water, "Wash your hands before getting in the car." He snarled but did as she asked, stuffing the bottle and bloodied towel under his own seat as he sat down. "Where are we headed?" Annessa asked, putting the Ferrari in gear.

"Just start heading north," Victor growled. "I'll tell you when to stop."

They'd been driving for over an hour before he finally told her to pull over. She parked in front of a rather rundown-looking hotel. "I'll grab us a room," he told her, stepping out of the car, "Why don't you go pick up some food."

She nodded, putting the car in reverse as he walked through the front doors. It didn't take her long to locate a McDonald's. She ordered a coffee and egg sandwich for herself, a large coke, three big macs, and a large fries for Victor.

"Your boyfriend's in room 119," the man at the front desk informed her when she walked through the hotel's main door. She nodded at him before moving on down the hall.

Victor had just got out of the shower when she came in. He was standing in a pair of faded jeans, staring out the window. "Food's here," she announced, placing the bags on the table and digging in. He sat down across from her devouring his meal faster than she could eat hers before moving back to the window.

"I'm going to go take a shower now," she informed him, sipping the last of her coffee. He merely grunted in reply. She wondered what he was thinking, but didn't dare ask.

A little while later, Annessa stepped out of the shower, a wall of thick steam following in her wake. She looked herself over in the mirror. The slash marks on her arm weren't too deep, and besides that she only had a small bruise on one cheekbone. She wrapped a towel around her body before stepping out into their small, hotel bedroom.

Victor was nowhere in sight, but that wasn't unusual for him. She was pleased to see he'd at least brought their bags in, however. Annessa crossed the room to turn off the lights; he'd come back to bed when he was through with whatever he was doing.

Annessa stopped when she felt a pair of strong arms reach around her waist, pulling her close. She felt Victor's breath on her neck right before he bit down, hard enough to leave a mark. She gasped before giving him a playful smirk and prying herself free. "Give me some warning would you?" she laughed, flicking off the light.