Page 14 of Bite Back

DELILAH

Anger splashes across his cheeks, bright and hot. A part of my brain registers how some different situations might make him look like this. I like him like this. Flustered.

“You won’t what?”

“You heard me. I won’t help.” Not if it means he gets to Luka first. Not if it means I miss out on my shot at revenge.

“Why not?” He delivers the question like he already has the answer. At best, he thinks I’m fuming about how he treated me at the club last night (accurate). At worst, he thinks I’m protecting Luka (wildly inaccurate).

“Why do you think?” Does he think the worst of me?

He softens. “I want to start out by saying last night wasn’t my finest moment.” I’m struck by how genuine he is. Or seems to be. But whether or not I should, and I definitely shouldn’t, I like him.

I relent. “He’s mine.” I swallow a gag at how that sounds. “Mine to kill that is.”

His head swivels toward me, warm brown eyes wide. If I didn’t have his full attention before, I do now.

“That’s not how this works. I’m assigned a target, I kill the target. Bing, bang, boom.” He punctuates each word with a clap of his hands.

“Exactly. Which is why I won’t help.” I leave out the fact that bing, bang, boom doesn’t really seem like the right sound effect. It’s more like squish, splish, splash. Or something like that. Stakes are bloodier, messier than guns.

“You really want to commit homicide?”

I bristle at the question, squaring my shoulders. “Commit homicide? Well, I don’t know, what’s driven you to homicide?”

“It’s not homicide if a slayer carries out a hunt on a legitimate target.”

“And it somehow is if I kill the same target?”

“Yes, technically.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.” I stare up at the skyline. If only I could transport myself there. Escape all this. I don’t need this. I can’t afford to think too closely about the morality of what I’m doing. I can’t hesitate. I can’t fail. And, besides, I don’t want to explain.

A pause stretches between us.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “How did you know Luka?” His voice is soft, gentle. I brace myself for the pity I expect to see in his eyes. I don’t want this man to think of me as weak.

But when I turn to face him, I don’t see that. Instead, his brows are knit together.

“You know how.” It comes out as a whisper, harsh and rough.

Maybe my name’s listed in whatever file he no doubt received.

Because it sounds like everything Sarah suspected is true.

If not, I’m sure he can fill in the blanks.

I don’t owe him parts of my story I’m not ready to share yet.

I expect him to challenge me. But he doesn’t press or pry.

“I know.” Simple and matter of fact. I exhale.

What more can I say? I’m glad he understands. But I still won’t help.

“I need you to help me. You’re my best lead.”

“There’s nothing in it for me. You’ll use me to find him, and then you’ll do the deed.” Maybe I’m imagining it, but I swear his eyes sparked when I said do the deed.

“I have experience. Resources.” It’s true.

The Academy’s famous for their deep coffers, which provide them top-notch technology and training.

Even now, the jingle from their infomercials plays in my ears, touting their databases, information networks, and sophisticated trackers.

I don’t have access to any of that. All I have is dead ends.

He drives the point home. “The truth is, I might need your help. But you definitely need mine.”

Somehow, as we’ve argued, we’ve drawn closer and closer together.

He stands inches from me, his face tantalizingly close to mine.

Like fighters circling each other in the ring.

Like binary stars caught in orbit. I’m simultaneously drawn to and repulsed by him.

There’s something magnetic between us. Flip it one way we’ll come together.

Flip it another we’ll bounce apart. I’m tempted to close those last few inches. And equally tempted to shove him away.

But I can’t do either. Because he made clear last night that he doesn’t want me.

Not like that. Sure, he might be attracted to me.

But I need to respect that he doesn’t want to act on it.

I can’t push him away though. Not with Sarah’s words from earlier still ringing in my ears.

She’s right. He’s right. If I want Luka dead, I need help.

I have terms though. Because I’m not going to let another man take what he needs and leave me empty-handed.

“I’ll agree to help you find him. If”—I glance at him sharply, because this is a big if—“if you let me be the one to kill him.”

His mouth opens, but I hold up a hand. “Look, I don’t care what you tell the Academy.

I don’t care what you tell anyone else. Make up whatever story sounds good and follows all that rules and regulations bullshit.

” Which brings me to the second part of my proposition. “I want you to train me to do it.”

“What’s to say I won’t agree and go back on my word?” A sour note laces his tone. But he’s right. I can’t trust him.

“You’re going to take me with you on the hunt. Not just when it’s helpful to you. I want to be there for everything.”

He tilts his head to the side. His answer comes quickly, almost too quickly.

“Deal.”