Kisses from Hell

Hunting Kat KELLEY ARMSTRONG

I stretched out on the lounge chair in front of our motel room.

“Basking in the sun, mon chaton?” Marguerite’s French-accented voice sounded behind me. “You have been doing a lot of that lately.”

“Can’t get sun cancer now.”

“No, you just like thumbing your nose at the myth.”

I grinned. “A sunbathing vampire. So Dracula-retro.”

She sighed. I tilted my head back to look at her as she stepped out the screen door. Like me, Marguerite is a vampire. She’s been one a lot longer, though. Over a hundred years, though she looks twenty, the age when she died. Eternally beautiful. Well, in Marguerite’s case, at least—she’s tiny with blond curls and big blue eyes. I’d thought she was an angel when I first met her. She was my angel, rescuing me from a science experiment and from parents who weren’t my parents at all, but people paid to care for me.

That was ten years ago. I was sixteen now, and undead for six months. Marguerite had nothing to do with making me a vampire. That was the experiment, plus a bullet to the heart.

Marguerite had known what I was all along. That’s why she’d taken me. She’d never told me the truth, though. I found out the hard way, waking up on a morgue slab. I understand why she kept it a secret—she wanted me to grow up normal—but I haven’t quite gotten over it. I don’t tell her that. When it comes to feeling guilty, Marguerite doesn’t need any help.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, holding out a travel mug.

“Not for that.”

She set it down beside me. I could smell the blood, warmed to body temperature. Like that made a difference.

“You need to drink, Katiana,” she said.

“It’s stale. Now that…” I waved at a man three doors down, passed out drunk. “That’s a proper breakfast. Not like he’d notice. He’s already going to have a killer hangover. A missing pint of blood wouldn’t matter.”

“You are too young to drink alcohol.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I am serious, Kat. Whatever is in his blood will be in yours. Drugs, alcohol…You have to consider that.”

“No, I need to consider what I am. A hunter. I need to hunt, Mags. You do.”

“And so will you, mon chaton, when you are—”

“Psychologically and emotionally ready.” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice. “But you’re going to talk about it with the other vamps, right? That’s why we’re going to this meeting in New York.”

“We are going for many reasons.”

“But you are going to ask them whether I should start hunting.”

“Yes, I will. Now drink. We still have a long drive.”

Marguerite went back inside to get ready. I drank the blood. It was like eating store-bought chocolate chip cookies—I could taste hints of what I really wanted, what I craved, but they were hidden under a leaden layer of foul crap.

As I sipped, I eyed the drunk guy and imagined sinking my fangs into his neck. Imagined his blood, hot and rich. The back of my throat ached so much I could barely gag down my blood-bank breakfast.

I know I sound like a coldhearted bitch, fantasizing about drinking some guy’s blood, like I’m brutally nonchalant about the whole vampire situation. I’m not. I have my good days. And I have my bad ones, too, when I can’t get out of bed in the morning, when I lie there and think and worry.

Am I going to be sixteen forever? Marguerite says no, that the genetic modification experiment was supposed to get rid of the eternal youth thing, which when you think about it, isn’t really such a blessing, being one age forever, never able to settle in one place, make friends, get a job, fall in love….

What if the modifications failed? What if I am sixteen for the next three hundred years? I think about all the things I didn’t get to do before I turned. Things I might never get to do.

Even if the modifications took, how would that work? I can’t be injured, can’t get sick. Does that mean I’m invulnerable, but not immortal? That I’ll die when I’m a hundred, like everyone else? Or will I live to three or four hundred, like real vampires? If I do, will I keep aging at a normal rate, and turn into some hideous old hag? Marguerite doesn’t have any answers, just keeps saying it will work out, which means she’s just as concerned as I am.

I try not to think about all that. I’ve got enough to worry about with my life now. Hungering over humans. Drinking blood. Fearing that the Edison Group will find me again. Worrying that I’ll screw up and get caught.

Even without the Edison Group problem, there’s so much to stress out about. What if I get hit by a transport and the paramedics take me to a hospital where, whoops, suddenly I’m as good as new? What if people figure out I’m a vampire? Would they kill me? Experiment on me? Lock me up? Would I be any better off than if the Edison Group did catch me?

So, no, I’m not nonchalant about it. I’m dealing. Kind of. Today we were heading to New York to meet other vampires and get some answers about the genetic modifications and about how to handle my situation. So today was definitely going to be a good day.

As for hunting humans, I’m not nonchalant about that, either. When the time comes, even if it doesn’t have lasting effects on people, I expect I’ll feel guilty about it. Marguerite does. But I still need to hunt. I feel that in my gut, a gnawing restlessness, like when I haven’t done a workout in a while.

When the feeling gets bad, no amount of canned blood helps. I’ll be walking along and I’ll smell something unbelievably good. I’ll start salivating, stomach growling, and I’ll turn to see, not a plate of freshly baked cookies but a person, maybe even a friend. I can’t describe how that feels. It’s bad. Just bad.

I finished my drink and went inside. Marguerite was in the bathroom putting on makeup. I perched on the counter, watching her as she applied pale lipstick to a mouth that was already a perfect pink bow.

“So who’s the hot vampire in New York?” I said. “A tall, dark Napoleonic soldier you met during the Civil War? Sheltered him from the witch hunts? Got separated on the Titanic, each floating off on your own icebergs?”

“History is not your strongest subject, is it, mon chaton?”

“I’m improvising. So who is he?”

“There is no he. I want to look nice for people I have not seen in a while.”

“Uh-huh.”

I looked in the mirror—yes, unlike Hollywood vampires, I can see my reflection. Beside Marguerite’s fragile porcelain perfection, I always feel big and clumsy. Seeing us together, though, the difference isn’t that obvious. I’m only a few inches taller, and skinny enough that I can snag her designer shirts and leather jackets. No one ever mistakes us for sisters, though. My golden brown hair, green eyes, and lightly bronzed skin guarantee that.

I reached for her makeup bag. She snatched it away and handed me lip gloss.

“When you are seventeen,” she said.

“I may never be seventeen.”

“Then you will have no need for makeup, will you?”

I sighed. Marguerite can be unbelievably old-fashioned sometimes. The perils of having a guardian who grew up in the nineteenth century. On this point, though, I don’t really care. I’m a jock, not a cheerleader. Makeup is a pain in the ass. Well, most times. I make an exception for dates. Not that there’d been any of those since I turned. Let a guy nuzzle my neck and he might realize I don’t have a pulse. Marguerite says guys won’t notice, but I’m not ready to take that chance.

I wandered into the bedroom, picked up the keys and jangled them. “Don’t forget I have my license now. Better hurry or I’ll go to New York without you.”

She didn’t peek out of the bathroom. Didn’t call after me as I walked out the door. Didn’t even ring my cell as I drove our little rental car from the motel lot. She knew I wasn’t going far. There are days when I like that, knowing she trusts me. Then there are others when I really wish I was a little more rebellious. A little less predictable.

She probably even knew where I was heading. We’d passed a coffee shop and bakery a few minutes before we stopped for the night, and she’d promised to let me head back in the morning, grab my morning coffee. Vampires don’t need food. We can still eat and drink, though, which helps us fit in. For most, like Marguerite, food doesn’t sit well in their stomachs. Not so with me. That’s one of the modifications that did work, apparently.

I grabbed an extra-large hazelnut vanilla coffee and a cinnamon bun. Then I headed back, music blasting, pedal to the floor, zooming along the empty Vermont road. Well, close. I had the music moderately loud and I was going about ten kilometers over the speed limit. Five miles over the speed limit, I should say. I’m American, but Marguerite is French Canadian, and we’ve spent most of the past decade in Montreal, so I’m used to the metric system.

Miles or kilometers, the point was that I wasn’t speeding very much, and I left my coffee and bun untouched beside me until Marguerite was driving. Yes, I can act like a smart-aleck teen, but I rarely break the rules. It’s my upbringing, Marguerite says. The only time my “parents” ever praised me was when I was a model child, tediously well behaved. Being a vampire doesn’t make me a badass. Sadly.

I’m not a complete wimp, though. So when a pickup came roaring up behind me, I didn’t follow my driving instructor’s teachings and pull over to let him pass. I sped up. He stayed on my bumper, coming so close I could only see his truck’s grille.

That made me realize just how empty the road was, winding through the foothills, dense trees on either side, a steep embankment down to my right. I hadn’t seen another car since leaving town. Not the place to play road warrior. So I slowed to the speed limit and eased over, giving him plenty of room for passing.

When he made no move to go by, I slid my cell phone from my pocket. Then the grille disappeared from my rearview mirror as the truck swung into the other lane to pass.

I glanced in my side mirror. It was only a glance. I had both hands on the wheel. I didn’t drift into his lane. I was sure of it. But the next thing I knew, there was a crunch, metal on metal, and my car shot toward the embankment.

My throat seized up, brain screeching, brakes screaming along with it as I slammed on the brakes. The car kept going, sailing over the edge.

It rolled and it kept rolling and all I could do was duck, hands over my head, until there was a bone-jarring crash. And everything went dark.

I blacked out for only a second. When I came to, the car was still groaning from the impact. I opened my eyes to see a tree in the passenger seat. The car was wrapped around it.

I reached to undo my seat belt, but I couldn’t twist. A branch had gone through my shoulder and pinned me to the seat. I stared at it. There was a branch through my shoulder. And I couldn’t feel a thing.

I took a deep breath, reached up, and pulled it out. Took some effort. Vampires don’t get superhuman strength—another myth debunked—and the branch was all the way through the seat, so it required work, but finally I got it free. It left a hole in my shirt, but no blood, obviously. There was a hole in my shoulder, too, but it would seal up.

I tried to check out the damage in the mirror. Seeing myself, I let out a yelp and closed my eyes fast. Another deep breath. Then I pulled down the visor and opened the mirror.

My nose was broken. Smashed nearly flat from an impact I couldn’t remember. My lip was split. And one of my eyes was…not quite in place.

Oh God. My stomach heaved. I closed my eyes and pressed my palm to the injured eye. It…went back in. I shuddered, stomach spinning.

I reached up and straightened my nose. As I moved it, I could feel it reforming under my fingers.

There. All fixed. Now—

“Hello!” a man’s voice shouted.

I lowered my head to look out the smashed window. A vehicle was parked at the top of the embankment. The guy who’d run me off the road?

No. It was a car, not a truck. Two sets of legs stood beside it. They must have seen my car fly off the road.

That really wasn’t any better. I couldn’t let rescuers find me, not while I still had a hole through my shoulder and God knows what other injuries, all of which would miraculously heal during the ambulance ride to the hospital. This was exactly the sort of scenario I’d feared.

I stuffed my cell phone into my pocket and grabbed the door handle. My fingers slipped on the wet surface. Coffee, I realized. The whole interior of the car dripped with it.

Hey, at least it’s not blood.

I wrenched the handle. Not surprisingly, the door didn’t open. I twisted to get up, so I could kneel on the seat and go out the window.

My legs wouldn’t move.

I stared down. They were crushed. Oh God. My legs were crushed.

“Is someone down there?” the man yelled.

“I think I see a car,” a woman answered. “Have you called the…?” Her voice drifted off.

Okay, they weren’t coming down here. Not yet, at least. I had time. I tugged at the broken steering wheel. It snapped off in my hands. I set it aside, then ran my hand down my legs, trying to wriggle them free. The muscles weren’t responding, but my legs seemed to be loose.

Just as long as they weren’t really loose…like not connected to the rest of my body, because I was pretty sure that whatever regenerative abilities vampires had didn’t go that far. Really sure actually, considering that the only way to kill me was decapitation. Some parts just don’t grow back.

My legs seemed fully attached, though. And already mending, which meant in a few more minutes, they’d be really pinned.

I ratcheted my seat back and wriggled until I got my legs out. They still wouldn’t move, though, which may have had something to do with the broken bones sticking through holes in my jeans.

It was a good thing I wasn’t overly squeamish. My dream of a career in sports medicine was looking a little dim these days, but at least my summers volunteering at a clinic came in handy as I repositioned my legs. The bones slid back in with surprising ease, like they were just waiting for a nudge.

They obviously weren’t going to mend in the next few minutes, though, meaning I couldn’t wait to walk away from this accident. I cleared the safety glass from the window, pulled myself through…and hit the ground face-first, somersaulting onto my back. I lay there, getting my bearings and listening.

I could still hear the couple at the top of the ridge, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying until I caught the words “…seems to be a path down over here…”

I rolled over fast and pulled myself through the undergrowth. There was no way to do that quietly. Dead leaves rustled and dry brush snapped as I crept forward. Before long I heard the man shout, “I think someone’s down here!”

I dragged myself along faster, watching for the man’s head to appear over the long grass. Which meant I wasn’t watching where I was going. When my hand touched down on air, I tried to pull up short, but it was too late. I tumbled over a stream bank, getting a mouthful of mud and water as I splashed down.

“Did you hear that?” the man yelled.

Running footsteps sounded. I looked around. There was no place to hide. I was trapped…

…in a swollen, muddy stream at least two feet deep.

I pulled myself into the deepest part of the streambed and stretched out. The ice-cold water closed over me. As the water filled my nostrils, some still-human part of my brain went crazy, telling me I was drowning. I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored it.

After a few minutes, I sensed the couple approach. Yes, sensed. Before I turned, Marguerite tried to explain this vampire’s sixth sense, and I’d compared it to sharks, who can pick up electromagnetic pulses from their prey. Now that I’ve experienced it, I’d say that’s exactly what it is—a weird pricking of the skin that tells me people are close.

When I concentrated, I could pick up the couple’s voices, muffled and faint.

“…car’s empty.”

“No one could have walked away from that.”

“Well, there isn’t any blood. Maybe the driver was thrown clear.”

“We’ll backtrack. Keep looking. The police should be here any moment.”

I waited until I couldn’t sense them anymore. Then I lifted my head slowly. I could hear them back by the embankment.

I wiggled my legs. They were moving now. Good.

I tried pushing up. My legs gave way and I splashed back into the stream. I hunkered down, but the couple must not have heard. I rose again, not putting too much weight on my legs, just using my knees to get some traction, pushing myself up the streambed and into the long grass.

When I was far enough away, I took out my cell phone.

It was off. And it wouldn’t turn on.

As I shook it, a shadow passed over me. I looked up, and caught only a blur. Then hands grabbed my shoulders and pinned me down. Something ice-cold pressed against my neck. I writhed and twisted, struggling to get free, but the world tilted and spun and then…

When I came to, there was still a guy bending over me. Instinctively I jerked up and slammed him with a line drive to the chin. He flew back with a yelp. I jumped to my feet. Still a little wobbly, but at least I could stand.

I glanced around quickly. The forest was gone, and I was in a room with wooden plank walls, like a cabin. I blinked hard, woozy from the sedative, my brain not kicking into gear yet.

The guy I’d hit glowered up at me as he rubbed his chin. He looked about my age. Broad shoulders. Football player build. Dark hair. Blue eyes, which were looking more pissed off by the second. When I stepped forward, he leaped to his feet, fists flying up, boxer stance. I took a step. He swung. I grabbed his wrist and threw him over my shoulder.

“Could I get a little help here?” he called as he struggled up from the floor.

“He’d like you to stop hitting him.” Another male voice, lower pitched, with an accent I recognized from a few months in New Jersey. I looked over to see a second teenage guy sitting on a crate, book in hand. Scrawny. Glasses. Wavy light brown hair that tumbled over his forehead. He glanced up from his book, dark eyes meeting mine. “Please.”

“Thanks a hell of a lot,” the other guy said.

I turned. The jock was coming at me, moving slow, cautious.

“Look,” he said. “Whatever you think—”

Another step brought him into personal space range. Another wrist grab landed him on the floor.

He glared at Glasses. “Would it kill you to get involved?”

Glasses gave me a once-over. “Maybe.” He closed the book but made no move to stand. “Clearly she thinks we’re the ones who brought her here, which would make sense, coming to with you crouched over her. First, I would point out, though, that we’re a little young to be in the market for a backwoods bride. Second, had we been the ones taking her captive, I hope we’d have had the foresight to tie her up before waking her. Third, if she checks for exits, she’ll discover we’re as trapped as she is.”

I looked around. It was a single room with only blankets and crates on the floor. No windows. One door. I walked over to it and yanked. It was bolted—from the outside. I could sense at least one person guarding the door.

I turned back to the guys. The one with the book stood.

“Neil Walsh,” he said. “That’s Chad. We hadn’t gotten to surnames yet. I take it you’re a vampire?”

I stared for a second, then choked a laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Vampire. By blood, at least. If not, then you’re in the wrong place. This party, apparently, is only for hereditary vampires. Genetically created hereditary vampires. Subjects of an experiment. Escaped subjects, I might add.”

If my heart still beat, it would have been racing. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap,” Chad said. “You’ll—”

Neil lifted his hand, stopping him. “It might not be crap. We knew what we were, but she might not.” He looked at me. “If that’s the case, then ignore everything I just said.”

“Oh, that’ll work.” Chad took another step toward me. “I’m sorry if this is news to you, but as crazy as it sounds, it’s the truth. You were part of an experiment. Someone—maybe your parents, like mine and Neil’s—took you away from it. The guys who kidnapped us are bounty hunters. My guess is that our families trusted someone they shouldn’t have, someone who could be bought. These bounty hunters want to take us back to the scientists. The Edison Group.”

I struggled to keep my expression neutral, but there must have been a glimmer of fear in my eyes when Chad said that name, because behind him, Neil nodded. Chad only kept looking at me, waiting for a reaction.

“Okay…,” I said finally. “So…vampires…”

“Not real vampires,” Chad said. “Obviously you aren’t out there sucking blood and hiding in the daylight.”

“Real vampires aren’t allergic to the sun,” Neil said. “The book says—”

“Screw the book. My point is that we aren’t vampires. Not yet. Not for a very long time, I hope.”

I held myself still, hoping to give away nothing.

“Okay, that’s a lot to take in,” Chad said. “And you probably think we escaped from the loony bin, but the main thing is that we’re trapped and there are others out there, like us, in danger. Two more kids who escaped. We need to get out, find them, and warn them.”

I nodded. I didn’t dare do anything else.

“You’re hurt.”

Neil was looked at my legs. I glanced down. My jeans had huge holes where the bones had poked through.

I sat quickly and made a show of examining the skin underneath. “Just ripped. Probably when I was running through the woods. That’s how they caught me—ran me off the road.”

When I looked up, I almost bumped heads with Neil. He was bent over, looking at my legs through the holes. The flesh was still pitted, the skin rough, like scar tissue.

“Old accident,” I said.

He looked at my other leg, with the same circular scar right under the tear. Then he looked at me. I kept my face impassive, but I could tell he knew, and I felt a weird tingling in my chest, like my heart was trying to pound.

Neil nodded and straightened. “As long as you’re okay.”

“She’s not okay,” Chad said. “She’s a prisoner about to be handed over to mad scientists. Same as us. Same as those other kids.” He looked at me. “Do you have any idea who they are?”

I shook my head.

He continued. “Maybe you didn’t know about the experiment, but you must have heard something. You’ve been on the run, right? Like us? Did your parents talk about other kids? Maybe you visited them and your folks said they were old friends?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

He exhaled, cheeks puffing. “Okay, well, think about that while we work on an escape plan. But don’t ask him for ideas.” A dismissive nod toward Neil, who’d already retreated to his crate. “He isn’t interested in escaping.”

“Of course I am,” Neil said. “As I see it, though, we’re temporarily without options. No windows. One door, locked. Presumably the men who brought us here are right outside it.”

“They are,” I said before I could stop myself. “I mean, I heard someone out there. Or I thought I did.”

Again, Chad bought it. Again, Neil didn’t, studying me with that inscrutable look.

“Go back to your vampire book,” Chad said. “We’ll wake you up when we’re ready to go.”

“Vampire book?” I said.

“It’s the journal of a vampire,” Neil said. “My parents told me what I am only last year. They’re hereditary vampires themselves but don’t know very much about the condition. Entire families carry the gene, but for most members, like my parents, it’s recessive.”

“Fascinating,” Chad said, yawning.

Neil’s gaze settled on me, like he was waiting for permission to continue. I nodded, and he did.

“By recessive, I mean that, on death, they won’t return as vampires. They may, however, pass that ability on to their children. With both carrying the gene, my parents were concerned it might increase the chance of their child being a true vampire. They were directed to the Edison Group, who promised that with some genetic modification, they could ensure that didn’t happen. They lied.”

“They made sure it would happen,” I said. “And they made other changes as well.”

“Presumably. My parents left the experiment once they discovered the truth. They did not, however, stay around long enough to learn exactly what was in store for me if…” He paused, head tilting. “When I become a vampire. Once the bounty hunters discovered how little I knew, they gave me this.” He lifted the old book.

“Thoughtful of them.”

A twist of a smile. “They’re trying to scare me. Show me what horrible future is waiting for me while promising that, despite what my parents told me, the Edison Group isn’t really evil. They can help.”

“You don’t seem very scared to me.”

He shrugged. “Knowledge is power. I want to know exactly what’s in store. And, if I’m lucky, there may be something in here that’ll help us. Some ability they aren’t expecting.”

“Well, you go ahead and read that,” Chad said. “In the meantime, I’ll actually try—”

He stopped and stepped toward me.

“There’s a huge sliver sticking out of your shoulder,” Chad said. “Didn’t bleed though. Weird.”

Damn! It must have been left over from the branch. I should have checked better. As I twisted out of Chad’s way, Neil quickly slipped behind me and said, “It’s the angle of entry. It just didn’t hit any veins. Here, I’ll take it out for you.”

I hesitated, then nodded.

“Are we allowed to ask your name?” he asked as he steered me out of Chad’s line of vision and wriggled the sliver free.

“Katiana,” I said. “But everyone calls me Kat.”

“Katiana. Hmm. Russian?”

I said it was. I had no idea and knew he wasn’t really interested in the answer, was just talking to distract Chad, which I appreciated.

“Thanks,” I said, when he pulled it out.

He nodded. He had the sliver cupped in his hand and was tucking it into his pocket. When fingers touched the back of my shoulder again, I spun.

“Hey!” I said.

Chad stepped back, staring at his clean fingertips. “There’s no blood.” He looked up, gaze hardening. “There’s no blood.”

He grabbed my arm so fast I didn’t see it coming. Neil tried to stop him, but Chad wrenched me off balance. His fingers went to the side of my neck. Before I could yank away, he shoved me aside.

“She’s a vampire,” he said, staring at me like I’d just crawled out of a crypt.

“No kidding,” Neil said. “That’s why she’s here.”

“You know what I mean. She’s a real vampire. Turned. Dead.”

“As we’ll be one day,” Neil said. “And if you’re wondering why she didn’t tell us, your reaction answers that.”

“How the hell can you be so calm? She’s a vampire.”

“At the risk of repeating myself, so are you. She’s just a little further along in the process.” He glanced at me. “It didn’t just happen, did it? In the car accident?”

I shook my head. “It was about six months ago. The Edison Group caught up with us. Shot me, apparently figuring they were safe either way. Either I’d be reborn as a vampire and prove their experiment succeeded, or I’d die and they’d have one fewer escapee to worry about. They didn’t get their answer, though. They thought I was accidentally cremated, so they stopped looking for me.”

“If the bounty hunters are still gathering escaped subjects, they may not have notified the Edison Group. Which means these men may not have realized you’ve transformed already. We should keep it that way. It’ll be an advantage—”

The dead bolt clicked. The door opened an inch, a gun barrel poking through. A man said something. I didn’t hear it. All I could do was stare at that gun, remember the last time I’d seen one, remember the flare, the bullet hitting my chest…

Neil’s fingers wrapped around my elbow. “Do as they say,” he whispered.

Chad was at the far wall, facing it, hands up. We did the same.

“Spread out more,” the man said. “Hands behind your backs. Make one move and we’ll test whether you really can come back from the dead.”

A chuckle from a second guy.

I put my hands behind my back. They bound us, then ordered us out. I caught a glimpse of one captor. There wasn’t much to see—just a guy in a Halloween mask. Dracula. I suppose they thought that was funny.

They took us out to a cube van. The back doors were open, the interior empty except for bottled water and old blankets. Without a word, they pushed us inside and slammed the door.

There was only one window—a grimy square on the van’s back door. It let in just enough light for us to be able to see one another. Not that anyone seemed very sociable right now. Chad sat in a corner, knees up. Neil was on the other side, back to the wall, staring into nothing, deep in thought. Neither had said a word to me since we got in.

I felt the weight of that silence. From Chad, I expected it. Neil had seemed different, but I guess it had just been logic talking back there. He knew he should be okay with me because someday he’d be a vampire too. Now, in the silence, emotion took over and he wanted nothing to do with me.

“I’m sorry.”

Chad’s voice at my ear made me jump. I looked over to see him beside me.

“I was a jerk back there,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just…It caught me off guard.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thanks.”

He smiled then, a slow grin that, six months ago, would have had my heart skipping. Now all I could think was how good he smelled. Like dinner.

I looked away.

“There,” Neil said, making us both jump.

Neil lifted his hands. The rope fell free. He frowned at the abrasions on his wrists. Blood seeped from one. I could smell it.

“Good,” Chad said grudgingly. “Now, can you get ours off too?”

“That was the plan.”

As he freed us, I was careful not to inhale. Of course, I still thought about the blood smeared on his wrist. I couldn’t help it. That gave me an idea, though. For escaping.

I told the guys. Chad jumped on it. Neil didn’t. We talked about alternatives, and he couldn’t see one, though, so he agreed.

The van screeched around a corner, bumping along a dirt road as Chad banged the walls and shouted for help. It jerked to a stop. The passenger door opened and slammed. Chad went still, lying on the floor of the van, me crouched over him, mouth hovering over his neck.

I could hear the blood pounding through Chad’s veins. Heard it, felt it, saw it, the pulse on his neck beating hard, blood rushing so close to the surface I could smell it. My fangs extended. I pulled back, shuddering, instinctively closing my eyes to focus on retracting them, then stopped. This was the idea, right? Fangs and all.

So I crouched there, over Chad’s neck, fangs pressing into my lower lip, and I tried to look at him, to see him like I would have six months ago, to notice the way his dark lashes curled on his cheek, the sexy hint of beard stubble, the full lips…. But all I saw was his blood, pulsing behind his skin, so close I could taste it. God, I swore I could taste it.

A movement to my left. I glanced over at Neil, lying on his side, blood from his wrists smeared on his neck. He was watching me. No expression. Just watching.

I glowered at him and hissed, “Eyes closed!”

He shut them just as one of our captors cleared the filthy window and peered through to see me crouched over Chad.

“Hey!” the bounty hunter shouted. “Ron!”

He threw open the back door and I leaped up, fangs out, snarling. The guy froze, eyes wide, gun still down, like he’d forgotten he had it. I lunged at him. He dropped the gun and fell back, hands flying up to protect his throat.

I sprang on him, pushing him backward. A shout from the driver as he ran around to help. Chad jumped from the van and knocked him down. Neil hopped out behind them.

I pinned my prey to the ground. Prey. That’s all he was at that moment. I didn’t think about what I should do next. I pinned him and I bit him.

My teeth sank in like needles through silk. Hot blood filled my mouth. And the taste. Oh God, the taste. It was unbelievable.

If he struggled, I didn’t notice it. Didn’t notice anything until that first mouthful slid down my throat, then the blood-fog cleared and I heard Chad fighting the other guy. My target was out cold. The sedative in my vampire saliva had done its job.

I lifted my head. That took effort. Serious effort, like wrenching myself out of the sun on a bitter cold day. I closed my eyes and ran my tongue over my fangs. They retracted. I didn’t straighten, though. Couldn’t. Just stared at the blood trickling down the man’s neck.

“You need to seal it,” said a soft voice beside me.

I glanced up. Neil stood over me.

“The book says you seal the wound by—,” he began.

“I know,” I said, sharper than I intended.

I shifted so he couldn’t see, bent, and ran my tongue over the puncture wounds. The holes closed. The bleeding stopped. I could still taste the blood, though, so delicious it made the back of my throat ache.

“Katiana?” That same soft voice. Careful, like he didn’t want to disturb me.

I straightened, grunting, “I’m good.”

With my back still to him, I swallowed. Ran a hand over my face. Squared my shoulders. Turned around.

Chad knelt beside the unconscious body of the other man.

“Good,” I said. “We need to—”

Neil held out the ropes that had bound us earlier.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do that.”

Soon our captors were bound and unconscious. Now that I could get a look at them without masks, I knew I’d never seen them before. Just two guys in their twenties, both dark-haired and broad-shouldered. There was a definite resemblance between the two. Brothers or cousins, I was sure.

They were incapacitated, though, and we had their van and keys. So our next move should have been obvious. It would have been, if one of us knew how to drive stick shift. We tried, but no one had been driving more than a few months. We just didn’t have the skills to manage it.

Neither of our kidnappers had a cell phone. One had a radio, but that meant they weren’t working alone, and we sure weren’t going to let their partners know that we’d escaped.

There was only one option. Walk.

First, Neil went back and grabbed the gun. There was only the one, and when Neil brought it over, Chad put out his hand.

“Can you shoot?” Neil said.

“Better than you.”

Neil raised the gun and put a bullet in each of the van’s front tires. Chad scowled, walked away, and waved for us to follow.

The van had pulled off onto what looked like an old logging road. We’d been on a paved one before that. We found that quickly. It was ten minutes, though, before we heard a car. Even then we couldn’t see it. We were on a thickly wooded road that bounced through the hills of Vermont. Or I presumed it was still Vermont.

When we heard the car, Neil suggested we get off the road, so it didn’t barrel over the hill and send us flying like bowling pins. We stayed at the side, ready to wave it down.

As it drew closer, Chad said, “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

I glanced at him.

“Well, those guys had a radio, right? That means they’re working with others. Maybe they were supposed to hook up. Or maybe those guys have escaped already, and called for help. Even if it is someone else, do you think they’re going to stop for us? Or will they call the cops?” When neither of us said anything, he shrugged. “Okay, I’m just putting it out there.”

“What do you suggest?” Neil said.

“My folks are back in Pennsylvania. Yours are in New Jersey. But Kat’s are close by, right?”

“My guardian is.” I’d been trying not to think about Marguerite, how worried she’d be. I knew she’d be looking for me—I only hoped she was safe.

“Then I say we get off this road and keep walking until we come to a town and can call Kat’s guardian.”

We agreed and moved into the woods before the car reached us. It was a mom with a couple of kids in car seats. Not a potential captor, but probably not someone who’d stop, either.

“So you and your guardian…,” Chad said. “You were traveling somewhere? That’s what I overheard them saying before they grabbed Neil. They sent someone up to Quebec for you, but then their contact said you’d headed this way. They found and followed you.”

Neil added, “And presumably kept following you until the van could intercept you after kidnapping me.”

“Were you taking a trip?” Chad asked, ignoring Neil.

“Meeting others in New York,” I said.

“Others?”

“Vampires,” I said after a moment. I braced for his reaction, but he seemed interested now, like he’d gotten over that initial knee-jerk response.

“And your guardian knows them from the experiment? Maybe the other subjects who escaped will be there.” He grinned. “That’d make things easy.”

I shook my head. “We didn’t even know that others had left the experiment. I was taken out when I was five.”

“But this guardian of yours, she was in on it, right?”

“No. She’s…she’s a vampire. There was this group of supernaturals who were concerned about what the Edison Group was doing. They were secretly monitoring the experiments. She was assigned to me. When she saw how I was being treated, she took me.”

“Abducted you?”

“It wasn’t like that.” My voice carried a bit of snap. Time to change the subject. I turned to Neil, who’d been walking silently beside me. “So where’d you learn to shoot?”

“A co-op placement at our local police station. They threw in sessions on the firing range as an incentive. I can point and shoot, but that’s about it.”

“More than I can do,” I said. “Very cool. So—”

“Co-op with the cops?” Chad cut in. “What were you doing there? Fixing their computers?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” I said.

“I’m not. It’s a serious question. Bet I’m right, too. You gotta admit, he’s the type.”

“And what type would that be?” Neil said. “The type who can spell computer?”

“Okay, not cool, guys,” I said, lifting my hands. “You two have fun insulting each other. I’ll be back here.”

I slowed to let them get ahead. They kept walking, shifting farther apart. Neil glanced back, like he was thinking about coming back with me, then settled for falling behind Chad and forming a single line. No one spoke for about five minutes. Then Neil cleared his throat.

“I think we should split up,” he said. “We have no idea if the nearest town is twenty miles this way. Or five miles back the way we came. Or one mile up that road we just crossed.”

“I don’t think—” I began.

Chad cut me short. “You’ve got a point.” He stopped and looked around. “Kat can keep going this way. I’ll head back. You can take the side road.”

I shook my head. “And what do we do when one of us finds a town? We don’t have any way to keep in contact.”

A valid argument. Neither guy listened, so I had them memorize Marguerite’s cell number and walked away.

As I trudged through the forest, I cursed Chad and Neil. Was it just me or was this the stupidest idea ever?

As pissed off as I was, though, I couldn’t help wondering if this separation was my fault. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut when they were sniping at each other. Of course, that would have required industrial-strength duct tape. We’d just escaped bounty hunters. We were running—well, walking—for our lives. And they thought slinging insults was a useful way to pass the time?

No, I couldn’t have kept quiet. If that made them decide to split up, then it was a seriously lame excuse.

Maybe that’s what it had been. An excuse. Not to get away from each other, but from me. Put some distance between themselves and the bloodsucker before she gets hungry.

It didn’t matter. I’d get to a town and I’d call Marguerite, and if the guys were worried about hanging out with vampires, they could call a ride of their own. I’d never see them again. Which was fine. Not like they were my new best buddies or anything.

It had been nice, though, finding other kids from the same experiment. Other vampires. Only they weren’t vampires. Not really. But I guess, in a way, I’d liked the idea of meeting someone who kind of knew what I was going through, who—

I sensed someone close by. Really close by. I wheeled as Neil jogged through the trees. He held up his hands, the gun still tucked in his waistband.

“It’s just me,” he said.

“Did you find something?”

“No.” He waved for me to follow. “Come on. We need to get in deeper before they get here.”

“They’re coming?” I said as I followed him. “Did you tell Chad? We need to—”

“We need to stay as far away from Chad as possible, considering he’s the one who called them.”

I stopped. “What?”

He reached for my elbow and tugged me into the forest. “He’s a plant. I suspected it from the start, but I’m sure now. He’s gone to call them. That’s why he wanted to split up.”

I jerked out of his grasp. “No, you wanted to split up. It was your idea.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said a voice beside us.

Chad lunged from the bushes and charged Neil. He grabbed for the gun, but only managed to hit Neil’s arm. The gun went flying. I dove for it. We all did. I was faster, though, and snatched it up, then backed away, gun wavering between the two. They froze.

I looked down at the gun in my hands, and again, I remembered that fatal shot. But this time the memory passed with only a spark of emotion.

“Who suggested splitting up?” Chad said after a moment. “If there’s a plant here, it’s obviously him.”

“I suggested it to smoke you out,” Neil said. “Splitting up was a stupid idea. Katiana knew that. But you were all for it…because it gave you the excuse to call the bounty hunters.”

“Call with what?” Chad lifted his arms and turned. “Pat me down, Kat. I don’t have a phone.”

“Because you hid it as soon as you overheard me. Katiana, you know he’s not a vampire. Look at how he reacted to you. He showed no interest in the book. He’s shown no interest in what your life is like or what you’re going through. That’s not the reaction of someone who expects to become a vampire.”

“Maybe because I’m scared, okay?” Chad said. “Can I admit that? Or do I have to be all logical about it like you? To me that proves you aren’t one. You’re overcompensating, making sure we know you’re okay with it.”

“He’s a plant, Katiana. He was the first one picked up—”

“Which would be a dumb idea if I was in on it. The smarter move would be to grab me second, to throw off suspicion. And who says there’s a plant at all? Where did this idea come from? What possible reason would the bounty hunters have—”

“First, as a precaution against exactly this scenario—we escape. If one of them is with us, they can make sure we don’t get very far. Who’s the one who didn’t want us flagging down a passing car?”

“But I didn’t suggest splitting—”

“Second, they don’t know where the other subjects are. They assume we do. You’ve been very curious about those other subjects, Chad. We gotta find them. Gotta find them. And, by the way, do we happen to know where they are?”

“Enough,” I said. “Neil has convinced me…that there is a plant. Makes sense. The question is, who?” I stepped forward, gun pointed at Chad. “One way to find out if you’re a vampire, isn’t there?”

“Whoa!” Chad backpedaled. “Vampire or not, I wouldn’t want that. Come on. Obviously, it’s him. He’s the one who wanted to split up.”

I turned the gun on Neil. He paled. Sweat trickled down his temple.

“All right,” he said. “I’d really rather not, but if that’s what it takes, go ahead. I’d only ask that you let me turn around and aim for the base of my skull. It’s the quickest way to kill someone.”

“What the hell kind of freak knows that?” Chad said. “Sure, let him turn around…so he can run away as fast as his scrawny legs will take him.”

Neil turned. I could see the side of his neck throbbing as his heart raced. He didn’t even shake, though. Just stood there, waiting. That took guts. Incredible guts.

I swung the gun back on Chad. He dove at me. I could have shot him. But I wouldn’t, not while I had any other option. So when he came at me, I dropped the gun, grabbed him by the wrist, and threw him.

Before I could pin him, he flipped over, a hard elbow to the jaw sending me flying off my feet. It took me a second to recover. As I did, I heard a grunt and a thump behind me, and when I turned, Chad had the gun—and Neil, holding him as a shield, one arm around his neck, gun barrel pointed at the side of his skull. Neil’s glasses were gone, lost in the scuffle.

Neil said, “Considering I just agreed to be shot, this really isn’t the position of advantage.”

“Shut up, freak.”

“Keep calling me that and I might take offense.”

Neil’s voice was steady, jaunty even, but sweat still slid down his face, and I could see that pulse in his throat.

“Let him go,” I said.

“Or what? You’ll bite me? Feed on me?” Chad’s lip curled in undisguised disgust, and that answered my question better than any test I could have given him.

“You aren’t a vampire,” I said.

“No, thank God.”

“But you are part of the experiment, I’ll bet,” Neil said. “You’re the right age, and that’s the most obvious way you’d know about it. What are you?”

“Half-demon.”

“I’m sorry.”

Chad’s arm tightened around Neil’s neck. “You think I’d want to be a bloodsucker? Goddamned parasites should have been wiped out centuries ago.”

“I didn’t mean that. I was expressing my condolences on your status as an experimental failure. Your lack of powers.”

Chad’s eyes blazed. “I have powers, smart-ass. You want to see them?”

He closed his eyes, face going rigid as he concentrated. I charged. I smacked the gun from his hand and knocked Neil free. The gun sailed into the bushes. Chad and I hit the ground. He grabbed me by the shoulders. I felt his hands through my shirt, felt them heat and smelled scorched fabric. But that was it. As powers went? Kind of sad.

Chad threw me off. When he came at me, I kicked, and sent him flying, then leaped to my feet. We circled each other. He glanced over at Neil, who hadn’t moved.

“Letting a girl fight your battles?” Chad said with a sneer.

“She seems to have it under control.”

“Coward.”

Neil shrugged.

Chad threw a punch at me. I caught his arm and flipped him. He leaped up and charged. I kicked and knocked him into a tree. He staggered up, shaking his head like he was dazed, then rushed me. I spun out of the way, but he caught me by the arm and yanked me off my feet. Then it was my turn to meet the tree.

“Need help?” Neil called as I recovered.

“Nope,” I said.

Chad and I went a few more rounds. I had the advantage of skill—I’m a second-degree black belt in aikido and a brown belt in karate, from self-defense training that Marguerite had insisted on. He had size, plus a generous dose of real-life brawling experience, it seemed, which I definitely lacked.

The advantage swung slightly my way, but not enough to make it a quick or easy fight. We’d been going at it for about five minutes—which feels like fifty when you’re actually fighting—when Chad threw me down hard. I lay there, winded.

At a grunt behind me, I jumped up, thinking he’d gone after Neil, and found Chad face-first on the ground. Neil had one knee on Chad’s spine, Chad’s arm wrenched behind his back.

Chad tried to buck Neil off. Neil twisted his arm until Chad was the one with sweat streaming down his face. He didn’t take it as stoically as Neil had, though. He snarled and gasped as Neil kept inching Chad’s arm up. Finally Chad stopped struggling.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell us anything helpful,” Neil said.

Chad spit out a string of curses.

Neil glanced at me. “Does that sound like a no?”

“Sure does.”

“Do you think we’re likely to get anything from him?”

“Nothing useful,” I said. “I think we can guess the story. The guys who captured us are relatives. They kind of looked like him. Same build. Same coloring. They know about the experiments because he’s a subject. They got a lead on us, probably, like he said, from someone your parents and my guardian have stayed in touch with. Rather than turn that information over to the Edison Group, they figured they could make some money rounding us up. Only they’re missing a couple of names, so they recruited Junior here to play captive in hopes of getting those names from us.” I bent beside Chad. “Am I close?”

“Go to hell.”

I turned to Neil. “We can ask whether he’s contacted his coconspirators yet, but either way he’ll say he has, just to freak us out, hope we’ll take off and let him go.”

“You’re right. There’s nothing we can get from him.” Neil backed up a few inches, making Chad wince. “I can knock him out, but your method seems safer.”

Chad struggled again then. It didn’t do him any good. A little more pressure on the arm and Chad was screaming. A quick bite on the neck and he stopped screaming.

This time, though, I forced myself to stop as soon as blood filled my mouth.

“You’re hungry,” Neil said as I rose from Chad’s unconscious body. “You should drink more. If the book is right, he’ll only wake up weak, as if he donated blood. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. And there’s no sense turning down a free meal.”

How many times had I given Marguerite crap for ignoring an opportunity to eat? Or told her off for trying to hide her feeding from me? Rolled my eyes and said she was being stupid about it. She had to eat and I understood that. Just consider it a blood donation to save a life—hers.

Easy to say when you’re on the other side. But crouching here beside an unconscious kid, even a jerk like Chad, while having another guy watching you, a guy who wasn’t a jerk, but maybe someone you’d like to impress…

“I’m good,” I said, rising.

“Katiana…”

“I don’t feed like that. I get my meals from the blood bank.”

He frowned. “The journal says vampires need fresh—”

“My guardian doesn’t want me to hunt yet.”

“Okay, but you didn’t hunt him, so…I mean, if you don’t want to, sure. It just seemed, back there, like you did want—” He flushed. “Sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

He knelt beside Chad and started patting him down for a phone. Neil had a point. It wasn’t like Chad didn’t deserve to wake up feeling like hell. This was what I’d wanted, right? Not just drink a single mouthful, like I had with the other guy, but to take a full meal straight from the source, see if it made any difference. See if it dulled the edge.

But I couldn’t do it. I don’t know if it was the thought of feeding off someone I knew or of doing it in front of Neil. I wanted to—oh God, I wanted to—but I couldn’t.

When I glanced over at Neil, he was holding his glasses. It looked like they’d been a casualty of my bout with Chad, stomped underfoot.

“I knew I should have worn my contacts yesterday,” he said, trying for a smile.

He ran his hand through his hair, shoving it back from his face as he squinted and blinked. Without glasses, Neil wasn’t magically transformed into a sex god. He just looked a little less like a guy who should be planted behind a computer monitor and a little more like one who could manage a first-rate throw-down and pin. Definitely cute though—with or without the glasses.

I shook the thought off. Really not the time for that.

“Can you see?” I asked.

“Well enough.” He tossed the glasses aside, retrieved the gun, and held it out. “You may want to be in charge of this, though.”

“Can you still shoot?”

He shrugged. “Sure, but—”

“Can you avoid shooting figures with brown hair, blue jeans, denim jackets, and”—I looked down at my feet—“dirty white sneakers?”

A genuine smile. “I can.”

“Then keep the gun. I have no idea how to use one. Now we should see if Chad did ditch a cell phone. It’s a long shot, but we need to head back to the road anyway. Maybe we can find his trail.”

We did. It wasn’t hard. Chad was no backwoodsman, and we didn’t need to be trackers to find his trampled path through the undergrowth. I followed a detour where he’d walked deeper into the brush, then returned, and at the end of that path, under the bushes, I found a phone.

“Do you think there’s anything I should know about using it?” I asked Neil. “Maybe a GPS that needs to be disabled?”

“My tech skills are limited to being able to turn things on and operate them. In other words, zero on the geek scale.”

I glanced over at him. “I wasn’t assuming. I was just asking.”

“Did I sound defensive?”

“A little.”

A rueful smile. “Sorry.”

I turned the phone on and waited to see if anything would happen. Then I checked for outgoing calls. One had been made twenty minutes ago. Damn.

Before I called Marguerite, I needed some idea of where we were. Neil thought he’d seen a sign on the side road he’d been supposed to take. We found a path heading in roughly the direction we needed to go. Once we found the sign, which promised a town two miles away, I dialed Marguerite’s cell number. On the second ring she answered with a wary, “Allo?”

“Miss me yet?” I said.

“Katiana! Where are you? What happened to you? Are you all right? Are you hurt? They called, the police, about the car. The accident. I said the car was stolen, but I have been looking everywhere, calling everyone—”

“I’m fine. Just kidnapped by bounty hunters rounding up missing vamps from the experiment.”

A pause, then, “That is not funny, Kat.”

“You think I’m kidding? I wish. I’m with another guy they grabbed. Neil…” I tried to remember his last name. “Walsh. Neil Walsh.”

“Actually, it’s Waller,” Neil said. “Walsh is the name my parents have been using since they left the experiment.”

Marguerite overheard and said, yes, she remembered Neil. She warned us not to call his parents on the phone we’d found. If it was owned by Chad, our captors could check their billing and which numbers we’d called. I hadn’t thought of that. Neil agreed. We’d get to the town and lie low until she could pick us up. Then Neil could notify his parents from a pay phone.

As we walked, Neil fussed with the gun, taking a better look at it and checking the ammunition, saying, “If those guys find us, we might actually need to use it.”

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I said. “With Chad. I wouldn’t have shot you.”

“You needed to see how we’d react. While I’m not eager to be turned, I’d rather do that than go back to the Edison Group. My parents told me…things.” He let the word drop, heavy, and stared at the gun, lost in thought. Then he turned it over in his hands. “It appears to be police issue.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Only that it may mean we’re dealing with someone who knows how to fire a gun significantly better than I do.”

“We’ll be fine. You’ve got some killer aikido skills to fall back on. Speaking of which…That might be a popular choice with cops, but there’s no way you picked that up in a co-op term. What level are you?”

“In the black belts.”

I had to press him for more than that, and after some waffling about nonstandard terminology, he admitted he was fourth-degree.

“Seriously? I just made third. Damn.”

“Sorry.”

I laughed. “Is that why you didn’t want to tell me? You think I’d be pissed because you’re a higher level? It just gives me something to strive for. Can’t have a guy beating me.”

I grinned, and when I did, he gave me this look, like…I don’t know. He just stared at me. Then he glanced away fast, cheeks flushing.

“Any other martial arts?” I asked as we walked.

“Just that. I’m not much of an athlete, but I like lunch.”

“Huh?”

“In fifth grade we moved to a new city and there was this kid, a head taller than me. He decided my lunch money was a good way to supplement his income.”

“And you needed a way to keep it.”

“Yes, but I prefer using my head to my fists, so I thought I could outwit him by brown-bagging it. He took that. I switched to health food. He’d still take it…and throw it in the trash. So, I could either humiliate myself by digging through the garbage every day or learn a form of self-defense. I did my research. Aikido seemed a good choice for what I wanted and, as you said, it’s popular with law enforcement, which is a bonus.”

“That’s what you want to be? A cop?”

He studied me, like he was trying to see if I was mocking him. That was getting annoying. When he saw that I was serious, he said, “A detective. That’s what I’m good at—problem solving.”

He asked about my meeting in New York, carefully though, like he didn’t want to pry. I explained and said he should talk to his parents, see if they could come. He might not be a vampire yet, but if they weren’t sure what lay in store for him, this would help.

“I’m sure they’ll agree,” he said. “They want to help me, and I think it would be good to keep in touch.” He paused. “Not that I expect—” He cleared his throat. “I understand that under the circumstances, we’ve been thrown together, and while I’d like to go to this meeting with you, I know it won’t be with you.”

“English translation please?”

Another throat clearing as he pushed low branches aside. “We got caught up in this together. We pooled our resources to get out. But once we are out…” He raked his hair back again. “I’m not one of those guys who thinks that if the popular girls ask for homework help, it means they want to hang out after school.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off, starting and stopping a few times before glancing over, dark eyes meeting mine. “I think you know what I’m saying, Katiana.”

“I sure as hell hope not, because it sounds like you’re saying that after I’ve used you to escape, you expect me to walk away, pretend I don’t know you.”

“You didn’t use me.”

“Whatever.” I turned in his path, facing him. “You’re saying you know my type, which apparently means you know me. That’s rich, coming from the guy who got his back up when I asked if he knew about cell phone technology. Hell, I’m not even sure I have a type anymore, unless you’ve met a whole lot of teenage vampires.”

“No, I do believe you’re the first.”

He smiled, but I wasn’t buying it, and I sure as hell wasn’t returning it.

“Maybe that’s the problem,” I said. “Not that you think I’m some dumb jock who wanted your answers on the escape-from-evil quiz, but because of what else I am. Not exactly sure you want to hang out after school with a vampire.”

“Of course not. I—”

“I make you nervous. You’re trying to hide it, but you can’t help it. I get that. I expect that. Just have the balls to say so instead of laying down the post-escape ground rules before we even get to the post-escape stage.”

He opened his mouth. I wheeled and stalked off.

“Katiana,” he called, as loudly as he dared.

I kept going, walking fast, branches whipping behind me. He started coming after me, but after a minute, his footsteps stopped. I wasn’t surprised.

I shouldn’t be too hard on him. Can’t blame a guy for not wanting to get chummy with a parasite. At least he’d made the effort, which was more than I could say for Chad, and probably more than I’d be able to say for most people I’d meet in my life. Marguerite had two sets of friends: temporary ones who didn’t know what she was, and other vampires. This was just the first lesson in a class I’d be taking for a very long time, so I’d better—

A crack sounded behind me. Not a “branch underfoot” crack, but one that sent my insides ramming up into my throat. I spun just as another shot fired. Something buzzed past my ear. A bullet embedded itself in the tree…where my head had been just a second ago.

I hit the ground. Even as I dropped, I knew it was the wrong move. Bullets can’t kill me. Not lead. Not iron. Not holy-water-blessed silver. Don’t duck and hide. Move!

I scrambled into the undergrowth as another shot whizzed past.

Who—? Okay, that was the stupid question of the week. Who was shooting at me? The guy with a gun and, fortunately, without his glasses.

I should have known. God, I should have known. Chad was right. Neil had been too calm about the whole vampire situation. Completely cool with it…right up to the moment when he decided to get twitchy and send me stomping off.

If he wasn’t with the bounty hunters, though, who was he? What did he want with me? Did it matter? Not when there were bullets whipping past my head. I didn’t want to think of what kind of condition I’d be in, waiting for my brain to heal after getting a chunk blasted out.

I crawled along the ground as quietly as I could. The shots stopped. Silence fell as he listened for me.

I’d been raised for situations like this. Sad, I know, being prepared for a life that might involve bullets, bounty hunters, and unlawful confinement. But Marguerite had known what I was in for, and not preparing it for me would be as neglectful as not giving me a warm jacket for a Montreal winter.

As much self-defense training as I had, though, she’d drilled in one lesson above all others: Fighting back was a last resort. Whenever possible, run. For once, though, I had no intention of taking her advice.

I’d already been duped by Chad. Blinded by a desperate need for validation, for the friendship of kids who knew what I was. So I’d missed the signs with him, and now, even worse, with Neil. I wasn’t letting him get away with it.

So I circled back in the direction of the gunfire. After a few minutes, I caught a whispered voice. Neil on a cell phone? I hoped so, but when I heard a second voice, that hope fizzled.

If I faced more than just Neil, I should run. But I needed a closer look first. Needed to know what I was up against.

When I was close enough to see figures, I found a suitable tree and climbed. I’m good at that. I used to think I’d turn out to be a werecat—hence my nickname. Obviously not, but I’m still a damned fine climber.

I got high enough to be safe, then shimmied along a branch until I could see three figures. Two men I didn’t recognize, plus Neil. They were talking to him. I strained to listen. When I couldn’t hear anything, I inched out a little more. Then a little more.

The branch groaned. I froze. Neil’s gaze lifted. Our eyes met. His lips parted in a curse.

“What?” one of the guys said.

“Shot,” Neil said, quickly looking away. “I said I think you must have shot her. She’s gone for help.” A glance up my way and he said, louder, “Gone for help.”

He shifted, and I realized his arms were bound behind his back.

Well, that changed things. As much as I’d love to swoop in, be the hero, save the guy, I wasn’t an idiot. Two armed men versus one sixteen-year-old girl? Martial arts expert or not, the odds weren’t far enough in my favor to risk it. Better to get Marguerite for backup.

I retreated along the branch. It creaked…and this time, both men heard it.

A gun swung my way. I jumped to the next tree. I managed to catch a branch. Then my weight hit, and the branch gave a tremendous crack.

I dropped square onto one of Neil’s captors. He went down, me on top of him. Neil kicked the other guy in the back of the knees. He toppled. Another bone-crunching kick in the jaw sent him reeling back.

My opponent had fallen easily, but he wasn’t staying down. We rolled on the ground—him trying to grab his gun, me trying to sink in my fangs—then both achieved our goal at almost the same time. His weapon of choice was faster. Mine was scarier, and when my fangs sank in, he panicked, firing wildly, the bullet zooming past my arm. It was the last shot he fired.

Neil’s match was giving him even more trouble. Having both hands tied behind your back can do that. I took over. It was a short fight. All I had to do was flash my fangs, dripping blood, and you’d have thought I was a thousand-pound tiger with canines big enough to rip off his arm. The guy backpedaled. Neil kicked the gun out of his hand. I leaped on him. Game over.

As I rose from sedating the second guy, Neil said softly, “Why?”

“Because they’re assholes,” I said as I walked over to untie him. “Greedy assholes.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

He gave me a look that said I knew what he meant—why wouldn’t I feed?

I looked down at the unconscious man. Why indeed? Here it was—my last chance to see if it made a difference. With Chad, I could say that I didn’t like the idea of feeding on someone I’d met. Didn’t like the way it smacked of revenge. Really didn’t like the way it made me exactly the kind of bloodsucking monster he’d thought I was.

But why not these guys? Because I didn’t want Neil to see me? In those few minutes when I thought he’d betrayed me, I’d realized how badly I’d wanted him to be okay with me, with what I was. For someone my age to say, “I know what you are and I don’t care.”

Was this how I was going to live? Ashamed of what I was? Compelled to hide the worst of it, even from someone who knew the truth? No. I was still the same person I’d always been, and if people like Neil couldn’t handle the uglier parts of my new life, there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing I should do. What happened to me wasn’t my fault.

“I should,” I said.

“Yes, you should.”

“Will you—?” I cleared my throat. “Will you watch? I mean, not watch, but watch him, make sure he’s okay. Make sure I don’t…overdo it?”

“Good idea.”

I crouched over the guy, then maneuvered so Neil could monitor his vital signs while not seeing me drink. Awkward. Silly, too, and as soon as I started to drink, I forgot that. All those glasses of warmed-over blood were like day-old doughnuts. This was what I craved. What I needed. It wasn’t just a meal. It was…I don’t know how to describe it. Like eating the best food imaginable, while curled up in the most comfortable chair, listening to my favorite music.

I was so caught up in it that I stopped thinking about being careful. This man under me wasn’t a person. Wasn’t even food. He ceased to exist. I was swept away by the experience, and when that finally ebbed, and I realized what I was doing, I jumped back so fast that blood sprayed from his jugular.

“Seal—!” Neil began.

I bent and licked the wound. Under my tongue, I could still feel the guy’s pulse beating strong. I listened to his breathing, then lifted his eyelids as Neil said, “It’s okay, Katiana. I was watching. He’s fine.”

It felt like I’d been drinking for hours, but the guy barely even looked pale. I exhaled in relief.

“Better?” Neil said.

I nodded, then wiped my mouth and made sure my fangs had retracted.

He crouched in front of me, coming down to my level. “What I said earlier? I didn’t mean to piss you off. I was just…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been that guy before—the one who thinks that if a girl’s being nice and asking for homework help, it means something. I got burned and I don’t like getting burned, so now I cut them off at the pass.”

I lifted my gaze to his. “Bet you missed out on a lot of girls who did want to get to know you better.”

“Maybe.”

“Probably.”

His gaze dipped, cheeks flushing, and I saw the blood rushing to his face, saw his neck pulsing, heart rate picking up, and I felt the urge to lean forward. Not to bite him, though. There wasn’t any of that now. I didn’t see food. Didn’t smell food. Didn’t sense food. I saw Neil, and all I thought about was leaning forward and kissing him.

I didn’t. Oh, I would, when the time was right, but that wasn’t now. At this moment, all that mattered was that I could look at him and see a cute guy and feel the same way I would have six months ago.

When I smiled, he said, “What?” and I said, “Nothing,” and pushed to my feet, and before I could say anything else, a car rumbled past.

“Think that’s our ride?” I said.

“Hope so.”

“One way to find out.”

I took off running and reached the edge of the woods just in time to see a rental car pass, a familiar blond head over the driver’s seat. I put my fingers in my mouth and whistled. The brake lights flashed. Then the reverse ones came on, dust billowing as the car sped backward.

Marguerite barely put it in park before she leaped out. She ran over and hugged me so tight I swore ribs cracked.

“Ack!” I struggled to get out of her embrace. “Good thing I don’t need to breathe.”

“Are you okay? What did they do to you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m a vampire, Mags. I can’t get hurt.” I waved at Neil stepping from the bushes. “But if you really want to mother someone, he’ll be my stand-in today.”

“Allo, Neil,” she said. “I am sure you do not remember me, but we have met, many years ago.”

“Good,” I said. “Saves on the introductions. I invited Neil and his parents to come to New York with us. Hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. If he would like that.”

Neil’s gaze flicked my way, then back to Marguerite. “I’d like that.”

“All set then,” I said. “You two can get caught up while I drive to the nearest pay phone.”

“You are not driving anywhere, mon chaton. Not for a very long time.”

When we reached the car, I looked back at the way we’d come, toward the clearing where we’d left the two bounty hunters. Back to where I’d fed as a vampire for the first time.

“It’s okay,” Neil whispered as we climbed into the backseat.

I nodded and smiled. It wasn’t quite okay yet, but it would be. For the first time in six months, I was sure of it.