Page 70 of Shadow Bound

“Yeah, well, I can’t get high or drunk, my body metabolizes substances too quickly to have an effect.” I wish I could turn to alcohol right now to numb some of the…emotions… filling my body.

Fucking emotions. I knew they were overrated.

“I can’t get high or drunk either, but that’s because I’m a recovering addict,” Winslow offers. “As someone who’s used them as a crutch to hide from their problems, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

I knew about her past with narcotics already—the information was provided in my briefing pack from Sterling. Winslow had used drugs to quiet the ‘voices’ in her head. Turns out they weren’t just voices, but in fact ghosts.

Looking down at my cracked knuckles briefly, I gesture with them to the sidewalk ahead. “Let’s just get back, they’re going to be pissed we left. Probably best to not stay out much longer. I’m not in the mood to deal with an angry Ransom.”

“Just imagine how mad he’s going to be when he finds out you kept being his bloodmate a secret.” She side-eyes me.

“How will he know if neither one of us is going to tell him?”

“I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion on the matter,” I bark. “You can’t tell Ranger either. You can keep a secret from him, right?”

“I used to be able to keep secrets like the fucking government, but I swear Ranger has a magical Voodoo power where he can just look at me and know I’m keeping something from him. Super annoying.” She huffs.

“Great,” I say sarcastically. If Winslow can’t keep her trap shut, my plan is going to fall apart.

“I’ll try my best, but I’m not promising shit.”

I guess that’s the best I’m getting.

We turn the corner, walking down the sidewalk that sits between two buildings. My mind is so preoccupied it takes me longer than usual to realize something is wrong. Chills run up my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. Someone is watching us. Keeping calm, I scan my surroundings, looking for the source, but find no one. Taking a deep breath, I search out their scent, making sure it’s not Noah or Nessa. I pick up the scent of a vampire—not Nessa though.

Keeping up my calm façade, I shift closer to Winslow. “Do not react,” I whisper as softly as I can as I discreetly slip a knife from my holster into her palm. To my relief, her facial expression stays neutral, but her spine stiffens. “When I tell you to, I want you to run as fast as you can to your car. Do not stop, do not look back, just run.”

Licking her bottom lip nervously, she asks, “What’s happening?”

“We’re no longer alone.”

My sensitive ears pick up on their footsteps, they’re trying to be stealthy, but they’re no match for my advanced senses. I know it’s coming before they jump from the roof of the building next to us. As I whirl around to face the threat, I yell, “Go,” to Winslow.

She takes off down the sidewalk, her combat boots pounding into the pavement.

The vampire flies down from above, his intended goal was to tackle me to the ground, but I easily sidestep his attack. The man, ugly as sin, hisses in anger when he misses. Pulling two more blades from my holster, I twist them in my hand as we begin to circle each other. The vampire bares his fangs and pulls a silver knife from his jeans. He comes at me wildly, his movements disorganized and unpracticed.Who the fuck is this guy?

I dodge each one of his attempts, easily moving out of the way. In quick—skilled—movements of my own, I slash his chest with my blades, my sharp as hell blades easily slicing through his clothing and skin. The scent of blood fills my nose. Fueled by anger and pain he plunges forward, as he thrusts his blade I slash at his face, a beautiful crimson wound appears diagonally across his ugly face.

With a pissed-off roar, he rushes me, before he can reach me, my foot slams into his chest, hurling him backward. While he stumbles from the force of my blow, I use this to my advantage. Stalking forward, I press my forearm into his neck and pin him to the brick wall of the building.

His eyes flash an angry red, and I know mine match—the pissed-off monster inside of me rearing its ugly head. Taking one of the knives, I spear it through the fucker’s hand, all the way into the brick of the building, effectively keeping him in place. He hollers out in pain, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find some joy in his distressed noises.

“Wrong move,” I sneer at him as he reaches with his good hand for the knife in his wounded one. In a flash I have the other knife in the palm of the other hand. His wails echo through the alleyway. “I don’t know who you’re working for” —though I have my suspicions— “but they really should’ve warned you about attacking me. If you thought you stood a chance in hell against me, you’re dead wrong.” Dead being the operative word. “Now, I’m having a monumentally bad day and I’m feeling anything but patient, so let’s get to the point, who sent you.”

“No one.” He spits a little when he talks but I ignore the droplets landing on my face.

“Not the answer I was looking for.” With that, I twist one of the blades in his palm, further mangling his hand. “Try again.”

His pained yell turns into angry hisses as he bares his elongated fangs at me.

“Answer the question.” My hand wraps around the hilt of the knife and I twist it.Yes. He curses and growls at me again. With a casual shrug, I twist the knife again.

“She did,” he bites out.

Figured it was her. “She sent you to attack me?” I ask, cocking my head.

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