Ian reached for his wallet. “This what you want?” He held it out to him. “Take it. I’m not looking for any trouble.”
The guy had the gall to look offended. “I don’t need your money,” he scoffed. “I have no idea what Jesse saw in you.”
“Jesse?” Ian frowned. What the fuck did Jesse have to do with any of this? A horrible thought struck him.It’s safer for us both if we stop it now.Jesse’s words took on new meaning. What the hell was he mixed up in? “Where is he? Is he okay?”
“Jesse’s fine. A lot pissed off I imagine, but otherwise fine.” He smiled then, and it was possibly the creepiest thing Ian had ever seen. It made his skin crawl.
Despite wanting to do the exact opposite, Ian kept eye contact as he carefully and quietly unzipped his front pocket. “You a friend of his?” He slipped his hand inside, fingers closing tightly around the spray.
“You could say that. I’m Peter, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
Nope. Asking for his name was about the furthest thing from Ian’s mind. He tried to shrugPeter’s arm off, but it was suddenly like a lead weight. “If you’re not going to rob me, then can you let go of my arm? I have someone waiting for me.”
“Ah-ah.” Peter shook his head, nose scrunched up. “I don’t think you do.”
“What do you—”
“Your friend Cate was very cooperative. I asked her to send that message. She’s not waiting for you.”
Rage overtook Ian’s fear, and he grabbed a handful of Peter’s shirt. “What the fuck have you done to her?”
Peter didn’t so much as flinch. “Nothing. I can be very persuasive when I want to be. I doubt she even remembers our conversation, and I deleted the text, so...” His hand darted forward so quick Ian didn’t realise he’d moved until he felt it grip his own hand inside his pocket. “Whatever you’ve got in there, I doubt it’ll do you any good.” He pried the spray out of Ian’s fingers and brought it out to examine it. “Oh, I stand corrected.” Turning it over in his hand, seeming to have no trouble reading it in the dark alley, his eyebrows rose. “This is VLCD standard issue.” Peter turned a fanged smile on him, and Ian’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He froze, body locked down with shock, and no words wanted to come out either.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Peter licked over his fangs, slow and predatory, then he grabbed both of Ian’s arms—phone clattering to the ground—picked him up, and sped them further into the dark alley.
Away from the street and any possible help.
Ian found himself pinned against a damp brick wall, Peter’s hand around his throat. “Cry for help and I’ll rip your tongue out.”
From the look in his eye, Ian had no doubt he’d do it without a second thought.
He was so fucked.
Fear washed through him like an icy wave, and he started to tremble.
This was not how he wanted to die.
“There are rules,” Ian ground out, surprised his voice didn’t shake too. “You can’t kill me.”
“Hmm.” Peter ran a finger along Ian’s cheekbone, then down across his bottom lip. “I see DS Jones has been spilling secrets. Just how well do you know him?” His eyes bore into Ian’s and he felt himself answering despite wanting to tell Peter to go fuck himself.
“Best friend,” he spat.
“Ahh. Not fucking then.”
Ian’s heart stuttered, and Peter laughed.
“Not for want of trying, eh? I don’t blame you, he is rather delicious.” Then his expression darkened, and Ian tried to sink back against the bricks. “Poor Jesse. I take it he doesn’t know you have a thing for your BFF? And a VLCD member at that.” He laughed again, but there was no humour in it. “He’ll be crushed when I tell him.”
Ian tried not to put the pieces together, tried to ignore what his brain was telling him, but... “Is Jesse like you?”
“He wishes.” Peter’s laugh was more genuine this time, but then his expression darkened again, quick as a flash. “But if you mean is he a vampire? A drinker of blood, member of the undead, et cetera?” He waved a hand about. “Then yes. I’m afraid you’ve been fucking a killer.”
No.
