Don’t act like prey, and you won’t become it. Don’t act like prey…
Whispering my usual mantra, I pushed the rusty hand truck down St. Vincent Avenue, scanning the shadows for trouble.
It was my last delivery of the night, and I’d brought along my favorite traveling companions—a sharp stake in my waistband and a big-ass hunting knife in my boot. Still, danger had a way of sneaking up on a girl in the warehouse district, which is why most normal people avoided it.
If I didn’t need the money—and a boss who paid in cash and didn’t ask questions about my past—I’d be avoiding it, too.
Alas…
Snuggling deeper into my leather jacket, I banked left at the next alley and rolled to a stop in front of the unmarked service entrance to Black Ruby. My cart wobbled under the weight of its cargo—five refrigerated cases of O-positive and three AB-negative, fresh from a medical supplier in Vancouver.
Yeah, Waldrich’s Imports dealt in some weird shit, but human cops didn’t bother with the warehouse district, and the Fae Council that governed supernaturals didn’t get involved with the Bay’s black market. The only time they cared was when a supernatural killed a human, and sometimes—depending on the human—not even then.
Thumbing through my packing slips, I hoped the vampires weren’t too thirsty tonight. Half their order had gotten snagged by customs across the bay in Seattle.
I also hoped that someone other than Darius Beaumont would sign for this. I could hold my own with most vamps, but Black Ruby’s owner struck me as the shoot-the-messenger type.
No matter how sexy he is…
Wrapping one hand discretely around my stake, I reached up to hit the buzzer, but a faint cry from the far end of the alley stopped me.
“Don’t! Please!”
“Settle down, sweetheart,” a man said, the menace in his voice a sick contrast to the terrified tremble in hers.
My heart rate spiked.
Abandoning my delivery, I scooted along the building’s brick exterior, edging closer to the struggle. I spotted the girl first—couldn’t have been more than fifteen, sixteen at most, with lanky brown hair and the pale, haunted features of a blood slave.
But it wasn’t a vampire that’d lured her out for a snack.
The greasy dude who’d cornered her was a hundred percent human.
Just another pervert in dirty jeans and a sweat-stained Henley who thought runaway kids were an easy mark.
“It’ll all be over soon,” he told her.
Yeah, sooner than you think…
Anger coiled in my belly, fizzing the edges of my vision. I couldn’t decide who deserved more of my ire—the asshole threatening her now, or the parents who’d abandoned her in the first place.
Far as I was concerned, they were the same breed of evil.
“Well now. Must be my lucky night.” The man barked out a laugh, and too late, I realized I’d been spotted. “Two for the price of one. Come on over here, Blondie. Don’t be shy.”
Shit.I’d hesitated too long, let my emotions get the best of me when I should’ve been working that knife out of my boot.
Fear pooled in my belly, and for a brief instant, I felt my brain and body duking it out.Fight or flight, fight or flight…
No. I couldn’t leave her. Not like that.
“Leave her alone,” I said, brandishing my stake.
He yanked the kid against his chest, one meaty hand fisting her blue unicorn hoodie, the other curling around her throat. Fresh urine soaked her jeans.
“Drop your little stick and come over here,” the man said, “or I’ll crush her neck.”
My mind raced for an alternative, but there was no time. I couldn’t risk going for the knife. Couldn’t sneak up on him. And around here, screaming for help could attract a worse kind of attention.
