Page 15 of Bite Back

ASHER

We stalk out of the alley behind the bar and, since it’s now shortly after sunset, empty sidewalks yawn before us.

Most humans, the cautious ones at least, have found their way home for the night, and most of the moon’s creatures are getting their evenings started as the twilight turns to night proper.

As we approach Washington Square Park, the bright full moon casts harsh shadows on her face.

Delilah. The vampire. My target’s ex-girlfriend. And now my reluctant ally.

I might have more experience with tracking down vampires. But she knows this particular vampire, which makes her a valuable resource.

If he’s not coming to Hector’s or partying it up at Aconite, I figure our best bet is to start with his friends. Maybe they know where he’s lying low.

My gaze sweeps across the park where moonlight gleams off of the stone pavers and floodlights illuminate the arch.

I glance beside and then behind me. Delilah’s practically jogging.

She’s not a short woman, but I’m tall by anyone’s standard, and I slow my strides so Delilah can keep pace.

If we’re going to work together, I need her to see me as a team player.

And I certainly can’t risk having her strike out on her own. I’m not sure if I’m going to keep the bargain we made. I agreed quickly because the benefit’s obvious. If anyone’s going to kill him, we need to find him. So, teamwork it is. At least until we get to the killing part.

I’m tempted to laugh, to joke. To reach for any of the tricks I normally use to put others at ease.

But instead an uncomfortable silence falls between us as I replay over and over what happened.

I’ve never broken the Academy’s rules before.

Can I risk stepping outside the lines? Can I afford not to?

I can’t fuck up again. Not after the spectacular failure of my last hunt.

Did I agree to this because it’s a good idea? Or because it’s her? Because, however tenuous our new partnership is, that spark between us was real. Is real.

I need to treat this like business as usual. Back to the basics. Start at the beginning. “Do you know the names of Luka’s friends?”

She rattles off their names, and I grunt in response. I’ve never heard of any of them. When we get to the Academy, I’ll be able to plug their names into our databases. Hopefully, that’ll turn something up.

I steal another glance at her. The way her cherry cola hair shines under the warm glow of streetlights enchants me.

And, even though I have no responsibility to protect her and, for that matter, no reason to think she needs my protection, I want to keep her safe.

Empty streets aren’t safe streets. I find myself reaching for my waist on instinct every time I catch the flash of a lone passerby in my peripheral vision.

I’m not usually jumpy like this. But I can’t help myself. Not around her.

“So why do you hate vamps so much?” More a challenge than an icebreaker.

I take a solid minute to respond, the silence between us stretching as empty as the sidewalk ahead. I don’t like to tell this story. But, I share it anyway.

“One killed my family.” I let it hang there. It’s been years, but I still don’t know how to say it in a way that doesn’t make other people fall silent. There’s no way to sugarcoat it.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice breaks, and something in my chest twinges.

Those two words are grossly inadequate. But what else is there to say?

Nothing anyone can say or do will heal that hurt.

Some wounds may heal over, but that doesn’t mean they don’t scar.

I wait for her to press me. To ask more questions, ones I’m not ready to answer.

But she remains silent, and I breathe a small sigh of relief.

My gaze fixes on the shadows stretching ahead of us.

“I was six.” Too young. Too young to lose my family.

Too young to understand what happened, or so the investigators told me, when I insisted it had been a vampire.

It didn’t make sense. They reopened the case a few years later, when knowledge of the supernatural became commonplace.

But the violence never made sense, not really.

“And that’s why you joined the Academy?”

I nod. The first time I saw one of the Academy’s slick recruiting ads, rows of young human men, training, fighting back against rogue vampires, I knew this was what I was meant to do. I couldn’t fix what happened to my family. But I could keep other families safe.

My skin prickles with goosebumps, and I turn to catch her eyes trained on me.

I yank up the collar of my shirt, covering the pearly scars dotted along my collarbone.

Fang marks. My stomach churns at the phantom touch of cold, hard teeth pricking, tearing, ripping my skin.

My throat thickens at the echo of my unanswered screams. My fingers fidget with the collar.

I don’t normally talk about that night, or the other one. To anyone. Ever.

But for some reason, this woman defies everything that’s normal.

“Why didn’t you turn?” The obvious question after seeing the scars. One I’ve asked myself over and over in the last few weeks. The Academy’s therapists call it survivor’s guilt. I call it a punishment.

“This didn’t happen then. It happened…more recently.” Six weeks, five days, and thirteen hours ago.

“Not so recently that they’re fresh. Had to be pretty deep to scar, and—” She stops walking, hand pressed to her mouth. The look in her eyes when I rejected her swims before me. I can fill in the blanks. And, I don’t date vampires.

I shrug. “Must not have gotten enough venom into my system.” I give a wry laugh. “I spent days worried I was going to. But I never did.” My voice catches on that keyword, I. I escaped. Alone. Again.

What if my parents and brother had escaped? What if Claude had? And what if Delilah had escaped? What if I didn’t have a million reasons why I couldn’t date her?

We might have had different stories, ones with happily ever afters.

Instead, we’re stuck chasing after the loose ends from our past.

A hum of activity permeates the library. Trainees are bowed over books, studying for their upcoming exams, but most of the occupants of the library are other hunters like me, here to research their latest targets.

Maybe we should have come at a different time, sometime less busy. Fewer eyes means fewer questions. But the reality is, the library’s always like this. It’s the core of the Academy.

There’s so much we haven’t talked about.

What information Delilah can offer. What training her might look like.

How far we’re willing to go to cover our unsanctioned partnership up, to assuage any concerns from prying Academy eyes.

We need to talk all that over. Set boundaries.

My reputation’s already shredded, but that doesn’t mean I want to jeopardize what I have left.

Boundaries are good. Boundaries are needed.

The library’s always been my favorite spot at the Academy.

The newer portions of the Academy may be spartan, utilitarian, and modern, but here, in the Academy’s oldest building, the Gothic architecture sings.

Vaulted ceilings stretch overhead, decorated with the flourishes the rest of the Academy lacks.

An enormous iron chandelier, now fully ornamental, hangs in the center of the room.

Crosshatched windows punctuate the gray stone walls.

Through them, silver moonlight filters across the long wooden tables for readers to peruse items they’ve called up or access the Academy’s computer terminals.

In the dim light, several readers have turned on the cozy electric lamps that dot the tables.

It’s a homey touch, harmonious with the architecture of the library but at odds with the rest of the Academy.

My forearms brush the smooth tabletop as I type my query, the first of Luka’s friends that Delilah gave me.

Meanwhile, she sits next to me, fingers toying with the corner of the guest pass I secured for her at the front desk, the only sign of any discomfort she might feel as a vampire in the heart of slayer territory.

She watches the screen closely, as though I might rip away from her any information I find.

And, in her defense, I might. I’m not sure if I want her help.

I’m not sure of anything. One minute, I’m beating myself up, convincing myself I’m using her to get to the target.

And the next minute, I’m convincing myself I’m using the hunt to get to her.

A woman I can never have. I repeat to myself over and over: This is a hunt like any other.

I need her help. I just want to make sure I don’t hurt her in the process.

I’m only being decent. Only showing her the concern I’d show to anyone caught up in a hunt. And, hell, it’s even in my advantage to treat her well. I can’t afford to alienate her when she has so much insight into the target.

The Academy’s got an intranet system with access to hundreds of years worth of information on the supernatural criminal world.

Even before the public was widely aware of supernaturals, the Academy was keeping tabs on rogue vamps.

And it’s all digitized now, thanks to the generous donations from concerned humans.

The computer monitor flickers as a wheel spins on screen and Delilah’s feet twitch beneath the table.

Her fang digs gently into her lip, and her tongue dips out to trace it.

She does that a lot. Like she’s not exactly used to them yet.

I’ve never imagined that before, what it must be like to be a new vamp.

To have the whole world turned upside down in an instant.

To be trapped in a body that’s not familiar anymore.

I shudder. I came way too close to that fate. But I escaped. And she didn’t.