Page 17 of Blood Secret

“You stalked me! You’re still stalking me!” she hissed.

“As I’ve told you, this is my job. I’m not stalking if I’ve been assigned to your safety. It’s my job to know where you live and to follow you when you walk into obviously dangerous situations, as you did tonight.” I sneered at her. “How could you do something so stupid? To think you call me crazy.”

“You know nothing about my personal life—oh,” she said, eyes suddenly opening wide. “I get it. She told you what she thinks is the truth, not the actual truth. But how would she know the truth? She had you follow me around because she thinks I’m taking unnecessary risks for my art. Is that it?” She let out a bitter laugh while shaking her head. “That b—”

“You’re mistaken. I can clear everything up for you once we’re somewhere more private. You clearly need help understanding what’s going on around you.”

“I don’t need your help, and I didn’t ask for your help. Thanks very much, but you can get the hell out of this cab once we stop at the next light. And don’t worry, I won’t tell the cops it was you. Nobody needs to know what happened tonight.”

“How very generous of you. But I cannot accept your offer. I’m not worried about your police.”

She frowned. “My police?”

The car pulled to a stop in front of her building. “Come. I’ll tell you everything you need to know, but I can’t do it here. I’ve sworn to protect you and would never do anything to hurt you. I know you don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth. Give me a chance.”

She searched my face with those fascinating eyes of hers. “I don’t know…”

“I swear, I won’t hurt you. You’ve seen what I can do, and I did it to protect you. Pay the driver, and let’s go.”

He was starting to pay attention to us. I didn’t want him hearing too much.

She reached into her bag again, and this time pulled out a wad of crumpled bills which she tucked into a slot in the divider between us at the driver.

“Come on. Hurry.” I followed her out to the sidewalk and thought she might be disappointed when I followed closely.

As if I would let her get too far from me, knowing she might run again. I was faster than her even on my worst day, but I couldn’t put on the speed I was capable of in the middle of a busy street.

“Don’t even think about trying to run away or trick me,” I warned as we walked up the stairs to the porch.

“I wasn’t. You think I would try to piss you off when I’ve seen what you’re capable of?” What amazed me was her disgusted tone.

I hardly expected her to fall to her knees and thank me, but a little appreciation would’ve gone a long way. I took a tremendous risk, killing that vampire. All because Janna ran away.

We reached the top floor, and she unlocked the door, but hesitated before opening it. “Tell me this isn’t a huge mistake,” she whispered, touching her forehead to the scarred wood.

“It isn’t. It’s not even a small mistake.”

She snorted. “Because you would admit otherwise.”

Still, she opened the door and stepped into a small, cluttered room which I immediately surmised was all the apartment offered. A sink and two-burner stove, an iron bed frame against the faded, flowered wallpaper. A large pad of paper resting on an easel, and a table covered in pencils, paints, charcoal.

“This is it?” I asked, sizing the place up.

“Sorry. I’m having the penthouse on Central Park redecorated right now.” She tossed her bag onto the floor, then turned to me with arms crossed over her thin waist. She didn’t eat enough. I

wondered if that was by choice or by necessity—how much could she afford? What would Isobel think if she knew her daughter was literally a starving artist?

A small washroom sat on the other side of a door beside the stove, and I stepped in to wash away the blood on my hands. I could still taste it on my lips and ran my tongue around to catch any lingering drops. It had been so long since I had a fight, a good fight, and I was still exhilarated. Even though it pained me to know the vampire’s clan would be looking for her murderer, I couldn’t deny how much fun it had been to kill her.

Janna was still standing where and how I had left her.

“What do you want to know?” I asked. “I’ll tell you everything. No exceptions. It will be easier if we get off on the right foot, with a clean slate. Don’t you agree?”

“Oh, I completely agree,” she said, nodding hard. Sarcastic.

I never did have much patience for sarcasm.

“So? What do you want to know? You already guessed your mother sent me, and you were correct. What else can I tell you?”

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