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Raven placed her hand over mine.
“You have a problem,” she said.
“I’ve got a lot of problems.”
“You have a problem with not being able to quit,” she pointed out.
“I’m aware.”
Raven sighed and shook her head. She leaned back in the barstool, and I knew what she was thinking.
“You think I’m blowing this.”
“No.”
“You think I’m wasting my life.”
“Do you feel that way?”
A little.
Sometimes I thought that.
Sometimes when nobody else was around, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this was the end. One of these days, I was going to go after the wrong creature. It might be a vamp or a werewolf or something else that smelled just as bad as it looked, and I wasn’t going to be fast enough or strong enough or brave enough.
And that would be it.
Everything would be over.
“No,” I lied. It wasn’t a waste. I couldn’t let myself believe that it was. I just needed to find the Vampire of Garnetia. If I could do that, if I could bag the big one, then everything would be okay. My entire life would be completely all right. My problems would be solved.
“Finding him isn’t going to solve any problems,” Raven pointed out. “It’s only going to make more.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed that, but I brushed it off with a shrug. It was easier to give up on the conversation that to try to prove that I was right. Raven and I were both strong and stubborn. Neither one of us was likely to bend, regardless of whether or not we were actually right.
She seemed to realize that I was ready to move on, and Raven was smart enough or kind enough not to bring it up again. Instead, we spent the rest of the night joking around, talking, and planning our next weapon purchases.
By the time we left the bar, it was after midnight. Raven got a ride home, but I decided to walk. I didn’t live too far from the bar, and it would serve me well to get some extra steps in. I was fit and toned, but I also wasn’t 19 anymore. After a night of drinking, it would feel good to stretch my legs and burn off a few of those liquor calories.
As I walked home, I found myself wandering off the main street of Ashbury and closer to the Grove. I never, ever went to the Grove. Never. I wanted to, sure, but after what had happened with my roommates, I had never dared to risk going back. Oh, I’d wanted the Vampire of Garnetia, but my plans had always involved trying to nab him when he wandered out of the Grove. There were vampire events and vampire house parties. I’d been to more than a few, but I’d never managed to find him.
Besides, until recently, I’d always had something to lose.
Hank.
I’d had Hank to lose.
I wasn’t sure who the vampire was I’d caught that night. More appropriately, I wasn’t sure who the vampire was who had caught me. I was certain he was a powerful lackey whose master gave him more than he should appropriately be able to handle. Despite asking around, I’d never been able to put a name to the face of the mysterious creature, and I’d never known who exactly it was who had killed my friends.
Now, whether it was the alcohol or the exhaustion that pushed me, I found myself walking closer and closer to the Grove. That part of town had been gated off for years. It contained a bunch of little starter houses and suburban wannabe homes. They were all falling apart. Most of them had rotted floorboards, and the kitchens were swathed with pastels and floral patterns.
It was no wonder that was where the vampires liked to gather. They didn’t have any taste when it came to anything else in their lives. Why would they suddenly become fashionable when it came to their houses?
I stopped by the wrought-iron gates that guarded the entrance. They were closed over, but not locked. Of course not. The Grove was never locked. Anyone could go there who wanted to, for a price.
Usually, that price was something monetary or physical.
Sometimes, that price was your life.
