Page 65 of Fated In Blood

“That’s rich, coming from the undead.”

“We can still die, as you well know. It’s how we bite it that matters.”

“Oh, har, har.” But I really didn’t have a response to that, because he was right. It was a universal truth that nobody got out of here alive, but there were a number of ways to go, most of them gruesome. Far fewer were gentle, and when you considered the lives we’d both led, I highly doubted any of those were an option.

The streets were packed tonight, filled with drunk frat boys and giggly sorority girls, lovey-dovey couples holding hands, and horns honking in the busy street, my head spinning from the assault of sounds, and I was shocked to realize it was Friday night.

But the smells…cloying perfume and sour vomit, cigarette smoke and vape pens, and the bane of all aromas, Axe body spray.

“Fuck,” I muttered beneath my breath, but I kept going, because this might be my one and only chance to get my jacket back, especially if that decision was up to Blake the Snake. “It’s Friday night.”

“Your keen powers of observation never cease to amaze.”

“First of all, I died, was just turned into a vampire, and after that, we…” I clenched my jaw before another word escaped and I completely humiliated myself. “Never mind.” I gave him the side eye. “It’s not like I’ve been keeping careful track of time these past few days.”

“Why is Friday night an issue?”

I wasn’t about to give this asshole a single reason to turn back. That jacket was all I had left of Mom and I sure as fuck wasn’t leaving it behind in Valentine’s disgusting basement.

I pulled my hood over my face and tucked every wisp of hair away.

“It won’t be a problem.” I wiped every trace of worry from my thoughts, stuffing my head full of all the happy, happy, joy, joy memories I could muster. “The bar will be packed and the staff’s too busy to monitor the crowd closely. I know exactly where my jacket is, and we’ll be in and out before Vincent even knows we’re there.”

Blake rubbed his temple. “Why do I feel like I have brain freeze right now?” he muttered. “What’swrongwith you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, you vulture, except I’m tired.AndI’m hungry again.”

I groaned internally. Note to self:do not reference said humiliating experience ever again in front of this asshole.

Talking about being hungry in front of Blake shut him up, though, and we walked the last two blocks to Valentine’s in relative peace. There was a burrito food truck parked out front, and we dragged in a cloud of that spicy, fragrant aroma with us through the front doors of the bar, which was rocking its usual Friday night wall-to-wall college crowd.

“This way.” I kept my head down, keeping the hood pulled up over my hair. With luck, no one would recognize me, though plenty of curious eyes picked out Blake’s hulking form as we threaded our way through the throng, my hope dissipating by the minute. This was probably a mistake. There were too many people, andwhy could I hear everyone’s fucking heartbeat?

“Keep it together, Slayer,” Blake muttered behind me.

We’d reached the door leading to the basement when my newly sensitive ears detected a bloodthirsty roar. There was afight tonight. A vicious one, given how rabidly the crowd was cheering.

On one hand, maybe we could hide amongst the chaos. On the other hand, the twins were surely posted at the bottom of the steps, taking bets and keeping the audience trapped until the fight was over.

Ten feet from the stairs, I came to a full stop.

Thiswasa mistake. Already, my fangs throbbed with my need to feed, that insatiable hunger rising, the thud of a hundred heartbeats building to a thunderous roar in my ears. My control was shredding, even faster than last time, and as much as I despised my sulky vampire bodyguard, I turned and slammed my hand into his chest.

“We’re leaving. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Why wait? We’re already here.” He blew past me, never missing a step, while I scrambled to catch up, grabbing his arm.

“Yeah, I know, but the basement’s packed and Vincent’s goons are posted at the bottom of the steps. We’ll never make it past them.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. I thought you knewallour tricks, Slayer.” His eyes took on a wicked glint. “But let me demonstrate you know nothing about us. Nothing at all.”

The sight of the neon-lit bar—the loud, drunken crowd—disappeared into a wavy blur around us, the heavy thumping of the techno music becoming a dull, deadened rhythm, barely discernible, even to my ears. This was like watching a movie through a magnifying glass with the sound turned down to one.

“There. I put a shield around us. We’re practically invisible and you’re safe from Vincent’s big, scary nephews.” I glared at his wide shoulders, so fucking tired of being treated like I was a helpless liability, even though this was better.

“Why not do that before we walked in here?”

“Because I wanted to see how long it would take before you’d turn tail and run.” He shifted and his eyes flashed gold, like a predator in the dark. “How long before your hunger turned ravenous. I see your teeth, little slayer. Do try to keep those cute little fangs out of these children’s throats.”

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