Page 3 of Bite

“You’ve been letting vamps feed off you?” I gasp, blinking at my friend in disbelief. “Are you out of your goddamn mind, Bex!?”

“See, this is why I didn’t tell you,” she tuts, rolling her eyes. “I knew you’d judge. But you said you were desperate, so…”

“I’m notthatdesperate,” I fire back, shaking my head. “It’sillegal, Bex. And for good reason. It’s not safe.”

“It is if you go through the right channels,” she insists.

I shake my head again, still reeling from her admission.

Bex Hamilton, the chick who’s known for kicking asses and takes names, is letting vampsbiteher? My brain can’t even picture it, let alone rationalize it.

“Fine,” she sighs, folding forward to set her beer down on the coffee table and digging a hand into her purse. “But if you change your mind…” She fishes out a business card and hands it to me– matte black with glossy red numbers embossed in the center. I flip it over, and there’s a single word on the other side in the same lettering:bite.

Subtle.

I turn it over in my hand a few times, lips drawn into a frown. It feels heavier than it should, like it’s already soaked in the blood I might give.

“You get a referral bonus if I sign up?” I ask dryly, flickering Bex a sideways glance.

“Damn right I do,” she replies with a shameless grin. “But most importantly,youget to keep your apartment.”

I stare down at the card again. For a moment, I try to picture it: sterile white rooms, reclining leather chairs, cold fingers on my skin. Fangs. A bite. A rush of pain and money changing hands. Rent paid, worries gone…

I toss the damn thing onto the coffee table like it’s on fire. “No thanks,” I grit out. “I’ll find some other way.”

I can peruse the job ads tomorrow– there’s gotta be something better for me out there.

Then again, that’s what I always tell myself, and every job I land feels shittier than the last.

“Suit yourself,” Bex replies with a shrug. She takes a last swig of her beer and sets the empty bottle down, digging into her purse again and pulling out a wad of cash. “Here’s what I can float you for now.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly as I take it, hating that I even had to ask. “I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“I know,” she replies, lips curving in a sympathetic smile. She squeezes my arm, grabs her jacket, and makes me promise to call her in the morning before heading out. I lock the door behind her and sink back onto the futon, finishing my beer in silence.

The card’s still sitting on the coffee table, the glossy red numbers gleaming faintly under the lamplight like a taunt.

Maybe I should’ve just sucked it up and given Archer that blowjob. It probably would’ve been the worst five minutes of my life, but at least I wouldn’t be considering putting my actual life on the line to pay my bills.

Then again, Bex has done it, and she’s fine. Maybe it’s a viable option in the short term; a little something to float me until I find an employer willing to throw me a lifeline.

I pull out my phone and start flicking through the job ads, trying to pretend I’m not tempted by that card. But deep down, I know.

There’s a road opening up in front of me, and I’ve already mentally taken the first step down it.

Now I just have to decide whether or not I’m desperate enough to take another.

Chapter

Two

The damn card is burning a hole in my pocket.

I don’t even know why I brought it with me when I left my apartment. Maybe because I was just sick of staring at it on the coffee table. Maybe because a tiny, clawing part of me– buried under layers of stubborn pride and barely scraped-together dignity– knew I was running out of options. Either way, I swiped it up at the last second on my way out the door and stuffed it into my coat pocket like a cigarette I’d promised to quit.

Just in case.

Now, three hours later, I’m standing on a cracked sidewalk outside another dead-end job prospect, and that little black card feels heavier than anything else I’m carrying.