Page 12 of Bite Back
DELILAH
“I don’t really understand the point of this.” I can hear the whine in my voice. Last night at Aconite may have been a bust, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try again.
The early evening sun slips between the cracks in the buildings, painting bright stripes of sun in the alleyway behind Hector’s.
My eyes squint at the brightness, gaze shifting to the pavement.
An empty blood bag, a plastic straw, and some crumpled napkins litter the ground by the rusting green dumpster.
Sarah wags a finger in the direction of my scrunched face. “That’s the point.”
“That I’m squinting?”
“That you’re new.” A rustling sound catches my ears, and I pivot towards it. A pigeon, with a rotund body and blue-gray wings, pecks at a discarded hamburger a few feet down. They should really check the lid on the dumpster.
“You’re easily distracted. You’re not at home in your body yet. It feels like a miracle sometimes that you make it from my apartment to here. And you think you’re going to kill Luka? Hell, forget killing him. You think you’re going to fight him and survive?”
“I survived him once,” I challenge.
“Barely.” I open my mouth to retort, but Sarah raises her hand. “Just let me show you,” she placates. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
Her fist swings. I dodge to the left, but her hook still grazes my shoulder, leaving me gasping for air.
She tsks. “You can move faster than that.”
I’m ready this time and slip her incoming punch, only to feel the bruising impact of her foot kicking into my lower leg.
Lighting bolts spark along my shin. Black spots bloom across my vision but quickly dissipate.
I reach out a hand to steady myself against the brick of the alleyway.
Reflexively, my hand reaches out to massage my leg.
Sarah winces. “Sorry. Proves my point though. Luka’s been a supernatural for at least as long as I have. Which means if I can kick your ass, he definitely can.”
It feels like Sarah punched me all over again, this time straight in the gut.
I heard her advice before I went to Aconite.
But I didn’t listen. Because I don’t want what she said to be true.
“Fuck.” I bury my head in my hands, fingers winding through my hair.
I sink to the ground of the alleyway. “You’re right.
” The bricks cradle my back, propping me up.
Sarah’s gaze sweeps from the green dumpster to the small puddles a few feet away and raises an eyebrow. “You really want to sit there?”
“Yes.” I glance toward the nearest puddle, which gives off the distinct stench of urine. “No.” I groan. “I don’t know.” My arms flop helplessly to my sides.
Sarah crouches down so her green eyes meet mine.
“That’s my point, Delilah. You don’t know.
And that’s okay.” She reaches out and grasps my hand, interlocking her fingers with mine and heaving me to my feet.
Her arm wraps around my shoulder. “You don’t have to race to solve everything.
You can’t rewrite a story in a day. Happy endings take time. We’ll figure it out together.”