Page 20 of Bite Back

DELILAH

One week and an overdrawn bank account later, I start bartending at Hector’s again at Sarah’s encouragement. I can’t go back to working at the councilman’s office yet—he can’t risk the unpredictability of a new vampire working for him—but this, this I can do.

At first, I worried it would be a distraction from finding Luka. Did taking a job mean I was giving up? You’re weak. A quitter. A failure. It’s true that I don’t have anything to show for my efforts so far.

It’s brilliant though. People don’t talk to random new vamps who are asking questions. But they talk to bartenders, pouring out their hearts after a few drinks. And they talk to their friends, never once thinking about the service workers in the background, listening.

The job keeps money in my pockets and my ear to the ground. Win-win.

Most people don’t even realize I was with Luka. Lots of supernaturals are like that. Humans are interchangeable and thus, forgettable. It stings a little, but it works to my advantage. I get to hear all the gossip, all the rumors, and no one thinks twice about spilling in front of me.

I polish the glasses, running a rag over the bottoms while I listen to the chatter and gossip. I carefully fix my eyes away from the patrons. Can’t let them know how interested I am.

Two women—one with rosy white skin and the other with deep Black skin—perch on the edge of their barstools, lips painted cherry red and eyes lined with elegant black flicks.

They hold themselves with an unnerving stillness.

Vampires. I zero in on their conversation, doing my best to tune out the other chatter around me.

“Brad invited Luka to come to the housewarming.”

I freeze.

“Luka.” She draws his name out into a coo. My hand clenches tight on the rag in my palm. I want to interrupt. I want to scream. But I need this information. Listen first, warn later.

“Ugh, I know, so dreamy, right?” That’s what I’d thought. That’s what Sutton thought. Look where it got us.

“He always turns me down though. He’s always with some girl or another. Or off somewhere doing God knows what.”

“He never dates vampires anyway. He likes humans. All sweet and vulnerable.”

My stomach curdles. Sweet. Vulnerable. I inhale deeply and swivel away from the bar, allowing my gaze to drift along the assortment of glimmering bottles filled with amber liquid.

I will them to talk more, to give me something, anything, I can go off of.

“But, hey, who knows, maybe Saturday will be your lucky day.” Three days from now.

“So he’s coming?”

I hold my breath waiting for the answer.

“He’s coming.”

A shaking exhale leaves me. A lead, my very first lead. Hands trembling, I get out my phone and shoot off a text to Asher.

When the woman closes out her tab, I make a note of her name on her credit card. Rebecca Winters. Bingo.

Rebecca, I’m crashing your housewarming.

Asher shows up at the bar fifteen minutes later, hair damp and curling around his ears.

He wears a gray shirt, emblazoned with the maroon logo of the Academy, stretched tight across the broad expanse of his shoulders.

As he saunters towards the bar, he shakes his head like an overgrown dog.

For him, this is just a job. But the way his brown eyes warm, melt almost, when he meets my gaze makes me think that he actually cares.

Then everything goes to shit.

The door slams shut, hinges rattling and walls shaking. Several pictures bounce off the wall, shattering on the floor in a discordant melody. My hands cover my ears, trying to block out the noise.

A white man, broad, even taller and broader than Asher, storms into the center of the room. His red buzz cut matches the ruddy flush of his cheeks, and he’s vaguely familiar. What the fuck?

Asher shifts into a fighting stance, legs square and fists clenched. My gaze sweeps over the bar’s patrons, eyes wide and bodies shaky, and then I spot Sarah.

She stands tense and stiff, her already pale face bleached to an ashen white.

Fuck. This is her asshole ex. Declan.

And now he’s here, looking mad as a bull.

“Sarah.” I brace myself at his volume.

She flinches.

He stalks towards her, hand raised.

Shit. I have to do something.

I plant both hands on the bar and vault my body over the top. My new supernatural reflexes are lightning fast. I slide next to Sarah, threading my fingers with hers. Her palm feels cold and clammy. Kirby flickers beside us.

A few beats later, Asher’s there.

He stands face to face with Declan, sandwiched between him and Sarah.

“I don’t know why you’re here. But I need you to leave.” Asher’s words come out clipped. Simple. Clear-cut. To the point.

“Came here to talk to Sarah. She can’t hide from me.” Declan shoves Asher and angles left, but Asher shoots out an arm, impeding his path.

“I should have been more clear. I don’t care why you’re here. Just leave, man.” Asher’s chest puffs out. Every taut tendon, rippling muscle, poised and ready, screams of the violence his body is capable of, and Declan shrinks, shoulders slumping.

Sarah’s heart pounds, and my own unbeating heart aches for her. Sarah’s safe. She’s here with me beside her and, from the looks of the room, a bar full of supernaturals willing to help. But our bodies don’t always trust our brains.

One wolf in particular, an Asian man, watches the interaction closely, his lip curled up to reveal a pointed fang. His leather-clad arm strains against the back of the chair. A defender ready to pounce.

Asher has it handled, though. A muscle in his jaw clenches, ticking against the strand of hair that has escaped the bun at the nape of his neck and falls into his face.

I don’t need a knight to save me. But there’s still something about Asher standing there that softens me towards him. He’s a near stranger. But maybe, just maybe, he’s someone I could learn to trust.

And that means something.

Declan’s mouth flaps open and shut. Asher raises his eyebrows, and Declan remains silent, face flushing tomato red.

Slowly, hands raised, he inches towards the door, still facing Asher.

When he’s backed a good ten feet away, he turns and slinks towards the door, not giving Sarah so much as a backward glance.

When the door eases shut behind him, Sarah breathes a sigh and slumps into my shoulder.

“Hey, hey, I got you.” I shepherd Sarah over to the nearest chair, and she sinks into it. Her hands go to her temples, and a low moan leaves her lips. When she raises her face, tears glitter on her cheeks.

Her neck turns and I swivel, following her gaze. Hector’s come down. Their casual outfit—a band t-shirt and jeans—and their smooth Black skin belies their hundred years of age. Currently though, their brows are furrowed.

“I’m sorry, Hector.”

“No, no, no. I’m sorry. Sorry you had to deal with that.” They wave an arm. Their nose wrinkles. “That Declan, though. He and I will have to have a conversation if he ever comes back here.”

A soft smile forms along Sarah’s lips. Declan could still come back. I still need to find Luka. I still don’t know how it’s all going to work out. But Sarah’s not alone. And I’m not either.

I can still feel the weight of the patrons’ eyes on us. Kirby and I usher Sarah to the stockroom, the door clanging shut behind us.

Sarah’s breaths come out in shaking pants, hasty and gasping. Her shoulders quake, and tears stream down her cheeks.

I’ve never seen her like this. And I hate him for it.

She curls up on the floor, kegs of alcohol and jewel-toned wine bottles piled high on the wooden shelves surrounding us.

I sink to the floor next to her, the wooden boards creaking under my weight.

I drape an arm around her shoulders, bracing against the sobs wracking her body.

She turns to me, face red, mascara smeared, tangled hair clawed out of her face. “He makes me feel so small.”

I want to swallow him whole, to wipe him and his hurt from the face of the earth.

The furnace in my core heats to a blazing inferno.

But an inferno isn’t what Sarah needs right now.

She needs softness.

So I tell her the truth. “When he makes you feel small. We’ll be there. Me and Kirby. And together we’ll be large. We’ll be strong. We’ll be together.”

A small smile quirks the corner of Sarah’s mouth.

She reaches out and threads her hand with mine, our fingers lacing together. I give her hand a squeeze. Kirby hovers close, her hand adding a chill and faint pressure.

I’m out of eloquent things to say, so I say what’s on my mind. “Fuck him.”

A wicked smile sparks across Kirby’s face. “Sarah did.”

It’s the wrong thing to say and somehow exactly the right thing.

A smile sparks across Sarah’s face, and we dissolve into laughter.

When we exit the stockroom, I spot Asher leaning against the bar, his eyes unfocused. I grab his hand, trying to get his attention. “Thank you.” I mean to say it in a lighthearted way, but my voice chokes up.

“It’s not a problem.” His thumb skates across my hand before he gently pulls away. A faint blush colors his cheeks. Disgusted, no doubt, that a vampire would touch him. Cheeks heating, I pull my hand away.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry?” His brow wrinkles.

“For touching your hand.”

He raises an eyebrow. He leans in close, and his black licorice and pepper scent washes over me. “I’ve touched a lot more than your hand, Delilah.” His voice carries so low, I have to lean in to catch his words.

Now, it’s my turn to blush. Maybe he’s not so disgusted after all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the werewolf from before, sitting at the table Sarah and Kirby have settled at.

He passes her a drink of water and attentively watches her sip it.

There’s a familiarity between them that speaks to a history together.

A smile curves across my lips knowing that she’s well cared for.

“Looks like she’s in good hands.” Asher turns to me, lips quirked in a smirk. “Now what were you saying about this lead?”

I spend the next few minutes recounting the conversation I overheard to Asher. He listens, nodding as I go along.

“Will that be helpful?”

A wide smile takes over his face. “Oh, definitely.”

Elation surges through me. I needed this, some confirmation that we were making progress.

“When does your shift end?”

I glance at the clock at the wall. “I’ve got another hour to go.”

“Got ya. How about this? I head back to the Academy and dig up an address. Then we can meet up after your shift and hash out a plan.”