"We have to distrust each other. It is our only defense against betrayal."

-Tennessee Williams

                                                                ***

Kansas was simple. Then after that was Tulsa. Then Denver and Tucson. San Jose. Tacoma. Boise. Then Reno, which was a triple assignment. 

Eventually, Galloway had relented and let Sirius drive her car. It was either that or fall asleep at the wheel. Sirius hadn't been short on smugness those days.

She woke up as they were driving through the middle of the desert, Sirius shaking her shoulder.

"Morning, sunshine," he said before he grimaced and handed her something she had come to hate with a burning passion.

"Are you freaking kidding me!" she cried, glaring at the manila folder he held out toward her. "No! This is ridiculous! Did all the other Collectors die and nobody tell me? We've been going nonstop for weeks now!"

"Yeah, I was there, Galloway," Sirius said dryly.

She moaned, burying her face in her hands. Sirius flapped the folder at her in irritation and she snatched it from his grasp, making a face at him, which he returned.

She sighed, flipping it open. "Seriously though." She grinned when he hissed. He'd run out of patience for her 'serious-Sirius' jokes about three weeks ago. Apparently, he only found them amusing when he made them. "This is insane! I've never had a run of assignments like this before. What in the hell is going on?"

Sirius pulled into a gas station, the sarcasm in his voice thick enough to smother her. "I don't know, Galloway. Let me think. Um... maybe the stupid Crossroads Demons are doing their jobs?"

Galloway resisted the urge to throw something at him before getting out of the car to pump the gas. "Did he send us more cash?" she asked.

He just rolled down the window and tossed a wad of hundreds at her. "Four thousand this time. So can we not stay in a freaking rat-trap motel?"

She rolled her eyes, then leaned down to rest her arms on the side of the door, staring at Sirius. Making her voice as sickeningly sweet as possible, she said, "If you don't like my choices, why don't you just stay in a different hotel?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her in annoyance then opened the door, forcing her backwards. He stood right in front of her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her mouth. 

All he did was stare at her.

But this had become an old game between the two. Sirius would invade her personal space, staring her down, and Galloway wouldn't let him. She didn't know if it was some weird Hellhound dominance thing or what, but it was getting old.

Finally, he reached down and pulled one of the bills from the cash in her hand. "Would you like me to get you something?" he asked, mint breath cool against her skin.

She rolled her eyes once more. "No. And—"

"Yeah, I know," Sirius responded lazily, waving over his shoulder, already walking away. "If I spill anything in your car, you're gonna make yourself a Hellhound fur rug, blah, blah, blah."

Galloway rubbed her eyes, dragging her hands down her face. He was like a freaking faucet. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. He was going to give her whiplash. Or possibly a massive aneurysm. 

One moment, he was funny, entertaining, truly enjoyable to be around, and Galloway had thought—more than once—that he might be worth breaking the rules for. The next moment, he was irritating as all Hell, insufferable and she wanted to kill him.

Then, of course, there were the times he was distant, unreadable, and thoughtful. And at times like that, Galloway hardly knew what to do with him.

Or herself for that matter.

All she really wanted, though, was to go home.

She hit the premium when Sirius paid inside and waited for the tank to fill up, frowning at the dust coating the usually glossy charcoal-grey paint. With a sigh, she looked up and watched as Sirius held up random things for her to see, like he was asking if she wanted it.

By the fifth or sixth item, Galloway couldn't tell if she wanted to laugh or scream. But that was pretty much how it had been for the past two months of this insane road trip with him.

She sighed with boredom when he smiled at the girl behind the counter, chatting with her about something that made her blush. Or maybe that was just him. She could never tell. Not caring to watch him flirt with this girl, Galloway leaned through the window and snagged the folder, flipping through it again.

Her grip slackened when she saw where they were going and the wind tore the paper away, just for Sirius to startle her when he snatched it out of the air. With a frown, he said, "Unless you've suddenly developed a photographic memory I know nothing about, then how 'bout don't lose this 'kay?"

Galloway grabbed the paper and read it again, the blood draining from her face. Voice strained, she asked, "Las Vegas? The next Debt is in Vegas?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, drawing the word out, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered.

"That going to be a problem?" Sirius asked, cocking his head to the side, the sunlight turning his eyes the same cerulean as the desert sky.

Galloway silently cursed to herself. "No." She snapped the folder shut. "No problem."

Sirius wrinkled his nose, then rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Don't want to share, don't share." He got in on the passenger side, knowing she would want to drive into the city. "I don't really want to know anyway."

She curled her fingers into fists, still wanting to throw something at him. Possibly a fist. Then she sighed. Vegas wouldn't be a problem as long as they didn't stay too long. She looked at the collection date and groaned silently when she saw it was three days away.

Of course. Because nothing could ever just work out, right?

She rubbed at her eyes once more, then got in and took off, spinning the tires a little.

Sirius kept looking at her, eyes narrowed like he was considering something. But he didn't ask. They had both just decided it was easier not to ask.

They arrived in Vegas around eight o'clock and Sirius finally broke the silence. "A nice hotel. For once, Galloway. Please? We've got four thousand dollars at our disposal!"

"Which makes me think Theron's going to send us to freaking Miami next!" Galloway growled. "We can't just blow a bunch of cash here."

He looked at her blankly for a moment. Then he put a hand on her shoulder and, with a great deal of concern, said, "Galloway, darling, are you feeling all right?"

She batted his hand away with a scowl. "I'm peachy. Why?"

Sirius gestured around at the flashing lights, advertising different casinos and hotels. "Just making sure you remembered where we are." He gestured out the window, grand as any ringmaster. "We're in Vegas, sweetheart. I'm pretty sure the only thing you're supposed to do in Vegas is blow a bunch of cash."

"Sure," she said, rolling her eyes. He knew she hated it when he called her sweetheart. "If you're a mortal. And," she huffed, raising an eyebrow at him, "last time I checked, you don't seem to be suffering from that particular affliction."

He looked at her through lowered lashes. "You need to learn how to have a little fun, sweetheart."

She turned her head to glare at him, only half paying attention to the traffic in front of her. 

He was really pushing it. 

He switched from the come hither lashes to the pouty lips and begging eyes. "Please?" he whined. "Just once, Galloway. Come on. We don't even have to gamble just as long as I can sleep on a decent bed tonight."

Galloway rested her head against the steering wheel momentarily, then looked up with a long suffering sigh. "Fine," she said and he grinned. "But! We get separate rooms."

Sirius pouted a little more, but it didn't really look like his heart was in it. "Aw. What's wrong swe—"

"You call me sweetheart one more time and I really will skin you," Galloway threatened, making him grin at her.

They ended up with adjoined rooms, but she wasn't going to complain as she looked around. She would never admit this to Sirius, but she was actually kind of loving this. The room was nice. Really nice.

She wandered back into the living room portion, then jumped when there was a knock on the door connecting their suites. With a smirk, she walked over to let Sirius in. 

She blinked in surprise at the way he was dressed. Tight dark blue button down that did great things with his eyes and better things for his chest, expensive looking dark-wash jeans and, of course, a loose tie.

"Did you steal those?" she asked, frowning. She hadn't seen them before.

"Uh-huh," Sirius said, unconcerned. "I got one for you, too."

Galloway stared blankly at the dress he held up. It looked like it would fit, but it wouldn't necessarily leave a whole lot to the imagination and was the same sapphire as his eyes with subtle shimmering accents at the sleeves and around the waist. All she could do was shake her head.

"Remember what I said about learning to have fun?" He gestured at the dress with a naughty grin. "I've got some friends in town. They are always throwing one hell of a party. In fact," Sirius paused and checked his watch—which he also hadn't had before, "things should start kicking up here in a while."

She had her own plans, having caught a glimpse of today's paper in the lobby. Not that he needed to know any of that. "I think you and I have different ideas about what qualifies as a good time."

Sirius frowned at her, but eventually just shrugged. "Fine," he sighed. Eyeing the dress, he said, "Pity though. I'd have loved to see you in that."

"I'm sure," Galloway responded dryly, rolling her eyes at the short skirt and low neckline.

He left then, saying something about how she shouldn't wait up. Once she was sure he was gone, she grabbed her jacket and keys. She skidded to a halt just in front of the door, though. Taking out her phone, she texted Theron: In Vegas. Collection in three days. Will contact you when done.

She threw her phone in one of the chairs with a grin, sure she was scot-free now. Of both Theron and Sirius. And, she reasoned, it was one little hunt. As long as she kept her head down after that, she should be fine.

She grabbed another newspaper, paying attention to this one's more detailed account of the murder that had caught her eye. The more she read, the more she was convinced her gut had been right.

Quickly leaving the hotel, she headed to a club near the scene of the murder, laughing when she realized maybe Sirius' dress would have worked in her favor tonight.

But she didn't really have to worry. She was... convincing, when she wanted to be. Another perk of being a Collector was a mild ability to use compulsion. It was more suggestion than anything; closer to a cheap trick of hypnosis than true mind control.

Either way, it worked and Galloway didn't have any trouble getting into any of the four clubs she had to search through before she found who she was looking for. Or, rather, what she was looking for.

He was dancing with a cute blonde—similar to the dead girl Galloway had seen in the news story—when she finally spotted him. 

Slick, black hair. Hungry eyes. Alabaster skin. Attractive, in a mild sort of way. A predator so very adept at blending into this jungle.

She waited until the girl left to go to the bathroom, then walked over to him, sliding her hands up his chest. "Hi," she purred, batting her eyelashes, swaying a little to the music.

He glanced down at her in amusement, interest flashing in his eyes when she tilted her head ever so slightly, subtly baring her neck. With a coy smile, she asked, "Wanna dance?"

His hands slid down to her hips, spinning her around until her back was pressed into his chest. She grinned when he sniffed at her neck. Honestly, vampires were way too easy. She danced with him for a while, ignoring the way his hands kept running up and down her body.

Patience was key with vampires. Besides, he would get what was coming to him.

Finally, he spoke into her ear. "Why don't we get out of here?"

Galloway smiled, bit her lip and nodded. She let him pull her through the club, out the back exit into an alley. She hesitated, shifting her jacket a little, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She giggled when he looked at her with a raised eyebrow and let him pull her farther into the dark.

He pressed her against the cool brick, inhaling deeply against her neck. "You smell nice."

Galloway rolled her eyes. Really, couldn't vampires come up with something a little more imaginative? Though, she mused, being cliche wasn't actually an issue specific to vampires. Most supernatural creatures tended to have a bit of a problem with them.

It just seemed like vampires were the worst. She blamed Hollywood.

She laughed, making the sound teasing, pushing playfully at his chest. "I've been told that."

She thought of Sirius saying the same thing, then frowned as she realized he hadn't said she smelled nice. He'd said she smelled good. It seemed different for some reason.

The vampire loomed over her, smiling confidently as he pushed her jacket aside, sliding his hand over her waist. He stiffened when he saw the machete. 

Galloway pulled it free, the metal whispering as it slid against the sheath no longer concealed by her jacket. She grinned, holding it up as his fangs popped out, sliding over his regular human teeth.

"Hunter," he hissed, leaping back toward the opposite side of the alley.

Galloway smirked, swinging the machete lazily. "Kinda."

He lunged at her, but she was more than ready. She side-stepped him, swinging at the same time. With a great deal of satisfaction, she watched as the blade sliced easily through his neck. She laughed at the shocked look on his face, then picked up the head with a grimace.

She'd have to get rid of it at least, lest some poor city ME accidentally trigger his teeth. The body she could leave, though. There was nothing about it that would betray the supernatural side of the city.

Eventually, she just ended up placing it in an overflowing dumpster that looked like it hadn't been emptied in a while. The sun would eventually burn most of it away. Washing her hands vigorously in the bathroom of a nearby fast food place, Galloway sighed when she thought that at least the smell shouldn't draw anyone any time soon.

She used a damp paper towel to wipe at her neck and the side of her jaw where his blood had flecked her, but smiled a little smugly at how neatly she'd killed him. Generally speaking, beheadings were rather messy ordeals.

She looked at a clock to find it was around three in the morning, closer to four and yawned. Galloway hadn't realized it had taken her that long and walked to her car, driving back to the hotel.

After changing into something comfortable, she fell into bed, not expecting someone to already be there.

"Sirius?" Galloway asked, annoyance thick in her voice.

"Mmph," was his only answer.

"You're in the wrong room!" she said, pushing at his shoulder, which was bare.

"Mm-mm," he mumbled.

"This is my bed!" Galloway complained. "Get out! Go to your own room!"

"No," Sirius moaned, burying his face in the pillow. "You go."

She groaned at the way his words slurred. "You're drunk."

"Completely sauced," he admitted with a small laugh. "You wouldn't believe what Valentia had on tap."

She pushed at his shoulder again. "You're in the wrong room. How did you even get in here?"

"'Mm a Hellhound. I've got powers 'n... stuff," Sirius grumbled, words muffled by the pillow.

She got onto the bed, shaking him. "So use your powers and stuff to go to your room!"

"Uh-uh," Sirius murmured. "I'm asleep. You go 'way."

Galloway sighed, too tired to really argue and looked for his clothes. All she found was his shirt, which didn't have any pockets. She growled with frustration, then yanked the blankets away, patting at his pockets, looking for his key card. She couldn't find one.

In horror, she leapt up, going to the door that joined their rooms and tried the handle.

It was locked. From his side. Galloway groaned, half-tempted to kill him in his sleep.

She turned slowly and sagged back against the door as she realized what this meant. With more than a few choice words, she stalked back into the bedroom and rolled him over until she had enough room to lay down.

Sirius sighed, rolling over toward her again. Still slurring, he whispered, "You smell good."

                                                                                 ~~~

Galloway woke up to find it still dark. What had woken her?

She sighed and got out of the bed, clearing her throat. Then she coughed. Not wanting to run any more risk of waking up Sirius, she quietly shut the bedroom door behind her. Crossing the living room space, she went into the half-bath and flipped the switch. She turned on the faucet, splashed her face and coughed again.

Something viscous and metallic filled her throat and mouth.

She spit blood into the sink, then frowned. Another cough shook her and more red misted over the white porcelain. She looked up at her white face in the mirror, blood shiny and wet on her lips.

She stumbled back into the living room, coughing into her shaking hands. It felt like she'd swallowed a bucketful of razor blades.

"Sirius!" she choked. She fell to her hands and knees, back arching as she tried to cough up her lungs. More blood poured from her mouth and she tilted, hitting the floor on her side, trying to breathe.

Light bled into the room when Sirius opened the door and ran across the room, bare feet skidding in the slick patches of blood Galloway had left in her wake. He slid to a stop on his knees and propped her up, fingers brushing sticky hair from her face.

He held on to her as her body was racked by another round of coughs, blood spewing onto his chest.

"Hex bag!" Galloway gasped. "Check for—" She coughed again, a sickening warmth thick in her throat, choking her.

"Right!" Sirius set her gently on her side before springing to his feet. She tried desperately to inhale, gasping like a beached fish. It felt like the razor blades were doing the tango in her lungs. More blood filled her mouth.

Galloway watched Sirius tear through the living room. He looked around wildly, his gaze resting on her momentarily when she retched, dark crimson spreading in a widening pool under her. He melted into the shadowy shape of a wolf and started going methodically through the rooms, trying to sniff out the hex bag.

Her vision was getting spotty when Sirius howled in triumph and ran back into the living room, hex bag clutched tightly in a hand still decorated with claws. He snatched up the lighter she had placed on the coffee table when she'd gotten back, not having used it on the vamp.

He snarled when it didn't immediately spark. Galloway couldn't breathe, her chest heavy as her lungs filled with fluid.

Finally, the lighter caught and Sirius jammed it against the bag. It burst into a sickly purple flame and he dropped it, rushing over to Galloway. The hex bag turned to ash and the relief was instantaneous. 

He fell to his knees again and pulled her into him. She sat there, the taste of copper coating her tongue as she gasped in great lungfuls of air. She leaned against Sirius, her head lolling against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, breathing just as hard as she was.

She sat there for a minute, comforted by his warmth and the sound of his heart, her own blood sticky on her shoulder where it was pressed into his chest. He inhaled slowly, brushing her hair back again.

"Your blood is so red," he whispered.

Galloway laughed weakly. "What else would it be?"

"I thought it would be black. Like mine." His voice was muffled in her hair. Slowly, he said, "It should be black like mine."

Galloway sat all the way up, remembering the very severe, very solid lines between herself and Sirius. She had let herself get too comfortable with him already.

She looked at him and said, "Why? Just because I happen to work for Hell too?"

She immediately regretted it when he looked down. When he did look up at her again, his eyes were as cold as the hour just before dawn. "I didn't know something as simple as a hex bag worked on Collectors."

Galloway stood up, Sirius mirroring her, his arms bracketing her but not touching as she swayed. Her chest still ached, but it foolishly became more fresh when Sirius stepped back, his face distant.

She couldn't help but notice that he seemed completely sober now.

Walking over and crouching next to the remains of the hex bag, she stirred it with her fingers. "It can if you know what to put in it."

Sirius frowned. "It smelled like plantain, hemlock and monkshood. I'm not an expert, but you don't put those in this kind of hex bag, do you?"

Galloway walked over and fell on the couch, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. It came away red and Sirius' eyes lingered there as she said, "Monica LaCroix."

She grimaced as she said it. She hadn't expected Monica to notice her presence in Las Vegas so quickly. Maybe hunting the vampire had been a mistake. But, Galloway frowned, that didn't actually explain how Monica had found where she was staying.

"What?" Sirius asked as he went over to the stocked liquor cabinet. She watched as he pulled out a whiskey glass. He grabbed the first bottle he saw, poured some, downed it, then pulled down another glass, filling both half full. He handed Galloway hers, then sat on the coffee table, looking at her.

"I collected her brother three years ago. He traded his Soul for twenty-five years worth of very powerful magic." Galloway laughed bitterly. "Guess he wasn't as naturally talented as his sister. He ended up killing eighteen people." She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. The whiskey burned the back of her throat, sweeping away the taste of her own blood.

She bit her lip. "I got him before a Hunter could. Or, well, a regular Hunter."

"So... what was that? Revenge?" Sirius asked taking another sip. He swirled the glass around, looking at the amber liquid instead of her.

Galloway took another sip of her own drink. "Yeah. Or a warning to get the hell out of the city. You know, if it didn't kill me. She told me if she ever saw me again she'd make me cough up my guts. Apparently, she meant it literally."

"Why?"

Galloway let out a dry laugh. "Her brother brutally murdered eighteen people to use in blood-magic rituals. Let's just say I returned the favor."

Sirius drained his glass, then stood up. He perused the liquor cabinet before pulling down a new glass and what looked like a nice bottle of scotch. He poured a glass and stood next to the bar, hands braced on the counter-top. "How did she find you? I thought Collectors were impossible to track."

She sat up straight, staring at him as suspicion suddenly swirled up, sharper now because it had started to grow dim in these last few weeks. "We are." She narrowed her eyes at him, remembering what he had said about having friends in the city. Coldly, she said, "For all I know, she found me because of you."

"Because of me?" Sirius repeated flatly.

"Yeah," Galloway scoffed. She wondered if she had let her guard drop too much with him. She grimaced. So what if he'd told her he didn't like Theron? No one liked Theron. Sirius still worked for Hell. Sitting back, she said, "Let's face it. I don't really know you, Sirius."

His lips parted in either shock or denial. But all he did was shake his head.

She took a drink, holding her hand steady and said, "For all I know, Monica is one of those friends you mentioned."

Sirius walked over to the adjoining door. Very quietly, he said, "Next time you're choking on your own blood, don't bother me, okay?"

Galloway opened her mouth, but Sirius kicked the door shut, making her flinch.

She finished her own drink, hand shaking now.

She didn't know if Sirius really had just tried to kill her, or if Monica had used him to track her, or if this wasn't Monica at all, but something Theron had set up.

The smell of poisonous plants permeating the hex bag lent more credence to the Monica theory, since she was known for her work with poisons but... still.

Galloway sighed. One thing she did know...

Sirius had taken the scotch with him.