He let out a bored breath, his eyes falling on the woman he completely forgot was there next to him, reclining on one of the padded lounge chairs surrounding the sun-basked rooftop pool. The subtle curves of bikini-clad silhouette contrasted with the venomous glare she was piercing him with, the thick smudge of black eyeliner outlining her lower lids making the sparking eyes seem darker than they were, almost black, the corner of the full lips rising in a wicked grin, obscene almost. Which made him think of another wicked grin he knew; the one he hadn't seen for quite a while. Two millennia. Not since damn Gabrielle showed up.

He held her gaze for a bit, feeding off the dark vibe radiating from the brown, narrowed eyes; and, after a moment, when he let his eyes close, in his mind's eye, the irises boring into his were blue, in a completely different face, younger, skin flawless, warm and smooth under his lips, hot and sweaty when she squirmed underneath him, clawing at his arms and back, hard nails ripping his skin open when he throbbed inside her—

"Something pleasant you must be thinking about…"

Tuning out the unwelcome, gritty voice, he pressed his lids tighter together, imagining it was another hand touching, roaming down his stomach; that it was another mouth breathing down his skin. Recently, at times, more and more often, embarrassingly enough, it was the only way to keep going without using his powers. And he wasn't going to use powers for this, for fuck's sake.

He needed to fuck more. How much more, though, if weeks in Vegas hadn't helped yet? If anything, at times he had an impression that it was only getting worse. How fucked up was it? Sometimes, it felt like — he didn't even miss her anymore — he just — right now, he just hated her with every damn fiber of his being.

It made his blood boil, still, he couldn't help it, reminiscing the last time he saw her — he just wasn't sure what enraged him more — the very memory of that moment or the fact it had turned him into something that nothing, no amount of Vegas, no amount of anything could fix.

The spell breaking, his eyes snapped open to the view that instantly put him off, the face that, like all the dozens before, wasn't hers. A random face seeking his attention; it was all they were to him.

He pushed her off. She pulled away, not saying anything. Not that he cared. But the truth was, this — never happened before. For him to — he never backed off in the middle, not like this.

"What's her name?" the raspy voice broke into his thoughts. "The one that's haunting you."

"Not your damn business," he uttered through his teeth, his jaw tightening.

She bared her upper teeth in a vicious half-grin. "Let's talk business, then. A forty-percent cut, and I'm taking care of all loose ends."

"Thirty." He lit a cigarette and took a puff, his gaze sweeping over the obscenely ample cleavage of the scantily-clad waitress, bending over, taking her time to refill his glass; the oversized tits he used to love having in his face, now doing nothing to him; not a twitch, not even slight. Not until his thoughts went to another, entirely different set of breasts, the very memory of what it felt and smelled like to bury his face in them making him hard again.

He caught her staring, her mouth parting. "Forty."

"Thirty. And it's my last offer."

"Very well," she said, lighting a cigarette of her own. "For a start."

"It's all it ever will be."

A chuckle escaped her lips. "I'll be straight with you." She paused to drag the first hit of her cigarette. "I'm looking for a business partner I can rely on, long term. Every step of the way. Ultimate trust."

He eyed her quizzically. There was this eerie vibe emanating off her, intriguing and off-putting both, skin pricking almost. "You do know there is no such thing, right?" He let his lids shut down; gods, he was tired.

"Loyalty that money can't buy? It is rare, I'll admit. I've just recently learned it the hard way."

"Oh, yeah?" He sighed, not sparing her a look. "What, the guy got busted and sold you out?"

She chuckled. "A boring classic, right? But no. Not quite." She drew another hit of the cigarette. "She disappointed me in more than one way."

For some reason, his ears perked up in an instant; for some reason, he decided to not let it show. "Surprise me."

"We first met years ago. I was looking for a protégée, someone I could groom to be what I was looking for. She was perfect. Still a kid, but cunning, ruthless; always hungry for more; too smart to ever get caught. She owned the city by the time she turned twenty. Squished the rival biker gangs like bugs… took them out one by one, and she was very creative about it," she paused, smiling. "You should've seen it…"

"Sounds like fun." He yawned. "And?"

"You know the saying 'don't get high on your own supply?' It's sad to see what drugs do to people."

"She OD'd?"

"Went a little overboard. Not exactly what I looked for in a person I could rely on." She clicked her tongue. "Turned out, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree; her mother was an addict, dropped her off at the orphanage right after birth."

He swallowed and held his breath. "What was her name?"

"It won't tell you much — our protagonist didn't start her career on American soil."

"Name."

"Lisa Mendez," she said curtly, reaching for the bottle and refilling the almost empty glass he forgot he was holding. "You won't find it anywhere. As soon as she left for the States and became a cop — ridiculous — all records of Lisa ever existing got wiped clean, dissolved into thin air. Interesting, isn't it? " She let out a raspy chuckle. "Of course, practical as I am, I had made sure to keep a copy. An insurance, of sorts… or, a potential future incentive, in case I ever wanted to give her another chance. You know how it goes."

"Smart move." He nodded, doing his best to keep his breath even.

"And, call me naive, but I did. Reached out to her a year ago. It wasn't what it could've been back in the day, but — as long as she made sure to keep my business off the radar — worked for me. Little did I know."

"She fucked you over?"

"A cunning little snitch." She downed another glass in one gulp. "She's been building up a case against me for months. Oh, she doesn't know I know yet." She snickered. "I'll play along and let her live in oblivion for a while. Besides, I'm curious to meet the guy she was fucking — she said she's got intel on him that would make me rich quite fast." She let out a little laugh and sighed. "It had better be true, 'cause if he's as lousy a lay as she claims, I'm gonna need compensation."

He drew a breath through clenched teeth, the glass he was holding cracking into pieces in his grip.

"Your cut rises by ten percent if you get me a copy of what you have on her."

She put the sunglasses on, walked to the edge of the pool and turned back, the obnoxious grin back on her face. "Pleasure doing business with you."