Texas Hold 'Em Read Online Free Page B

phone. The trip had given me ample time to think, and when my thoughts strayed to scenarios involving the werewolf’s vengeance for standing her up, I decided the best course of action was to cancel ahead of time.
    I let out my breath when it went through to voicemail. I gave her the excuse I’d been working on for the last fifteen minutes of my trek through the desert: an emergency had come up with my mom, and I had to rush to Texas to take care of it. Bonus points for it being the truth.
    I thought about calling Megan. She was going to be as ticked off as Toni. But in the end, I decided against it. For some reason I knew Megan would be harder to talk to, and I was worried she might actually be able to convince me to tell her where I was. At least by ignoring her I knew she’d be safe, and I’d be fighting my own battles this time around.
    It was a few hours after dark by the time I pulled off the highway, twenty miles outside of San Antonio. Toni had already called me back several times. I let them all go directly to voice mail. I promised myself I’d call her in the morning after I’d had a good night’s sleep and felt better able to deal with her. Maybe I’d call Megan, too; after the long drive, I was finding that I missed her.
    The freeway exit consisted of a hotel, some gas stations, and a couple of fast-food places in the middle of nowhere. I always wondered where the people who worked those places lived. There weren’t any houses around for miles.
    I parked in front of the dusty hotel, blowing my nose on a wadded-up napkin I had found on the Miata’s floorboard. I had been in Texas less than a day, but the heat and allergies had wasted no time reintroducing themselves.
    The lobby was overly air-conditioned, and I went from hot to freezing in an instant. I tugged on the front of my sweat-saturated, burnt-orange t-shirt, peeling the white Longhorn symbol away from my chest as I waited for the desk clerk to run through the registration process.
    After I finished checking in, I grabbed the stuff out of my car and tossed it onto the orange floral-print bedspread, splashed some water on my face, and headed for the cluster of gas stations and fast-food restaurants across the way. Even though the sun had gone down hours ago, the hot asphalt radiated through the soles of my Vans as I walked across the parking lot to the first burger joint in my path.
    I went for broke and ordered a triple-bacon cheeseburger, large fries, and a ginormous drink. While I waited for my order, I sat down at a booth and called one of Robert’s contacts.
    Robert had been my mentor in the vampire-slaying business. He was the guy that the vampire Christian had been after in the first place. The one that had put together the team that was killed a few weeks ago at the ranch.
    Robert had introduced me to his friend Jacob a few months back, when we were down in San Antonio looking into a feral vampire that was feasting on an impoverished area of the city. Outside of our crew, Jacob was the only friend of Robert’s that I knew, which meant he was now the only living friend of Robert’s that I knew.
    I remembered Jacob’s number because he had made such a big deal about Robert giving it to me. When he found out Robert had given out his number, Jacob had been so mad at him for “violating his trust” that he refused to speak to him for weeks. The guy was paranoid. We’re talking about a tinfoil-hat level of paranoia.
    He had a right to be like that. He was one of Robert’s old team; they’d started hunting vampires and other monsters together way back in the seventies. Jacob knew more about the supernatural than was safe for any human. His specialty was information: he monitored everything from police band scanners to tabloids, always on the lookout for conspiracies and monsters. Most of what he found was garbage, but Robert insisted his information was reliable, so Jacob must have had a knack for sifting through the bullshit and