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But here, with the Night Order stationed in the city's heart, I’d be leaving myself open to potential assassination.
So I’ll sleep when I’m dead.
My sunlight induced grogginess washes away with the approach of twilight. I spend the last minutes of the day under the steaming spray of the shower, letting the warmth of the water soak into my cold, dead skin. The tepidity lingers as I fish an outfit from my too-light suitcase and put it on, trapping the heat with my clothes. It won’t do much, but for a few minutes, I’ll almost feel alive again.
I don’t pay enough attention to the noise on the other side of the wall, and as if karma were to slap me, my neighbor opens her door at the same time I do. We both step outside, and when her feet hit the hallway carpet, a breeze catches her scent, wafting it past my nose.
She smells of strawberry shampoo and freshly toasted bagels, an aroma that’s faintly familiar and exotic at the same time. Her blonde hair is damp, waving against the back of her toffee colored jacket. She jiggles her keys, lips pursing as she glances inside the bag looped over her arm.
She hasn’t realized I’m here, too absorbed in her task. I think about shuffling past her without a word of acknowledgement, but that seems… un-neighborly, and I might be locked in this location for a while. I’ll need to appear normal to the humans. Nice and friendly, not serial-killer-ish in the slightest.
“Are there any good pizza places around here?” I ask in a relaxed manner, the words slipping effortlessly from my mouth.
The woman jumps in surprise, dropping her keys. Her gaze settles on me, and she quickly whips around, blonde tresses flowing through the air. She places her hand over her heart as her eyes rake me up and down in one quick movement. “Holy shit. I didn’t hear you come out.”
I smile, hoping my features look more friendly than terrifying. “I’m sorry. Here, let me.” I step forward, bending to grab her fallen keys. When I rise, I’m inches from her body, feeling the heat of her blood as it courses through her veins. I hold the keys out with two fingers.
She grabs them, careful not to touch my gloved hand. “Thanks.” Her green eyes focus on my face, their sheen glittering beneath the overhead fixtures. “Um, I’m sorry. What?”
“Pizza.” I grin again, but this time it comes naturally. “I’ve heard it’s special in this city. Are there any suitable spots nearby?”
The girl takes a step backward, pulling her bag over her shoulder. Now that I have time to pay attention, Idosee something strange in this human. She isn’t wild like a wolf or deadly like a cold-blooded vampire, but she’s bright, like the sun. The curly edges of her golden hair, freshly dried, complement this quality. Tiny freckles cascade in a line over her face, starting from one cheek and traveling over her nose to the other. Her lips are full, giving more weight to every word she speaks.
She licks them now, drawing my eyes downward. “I think there’s a place a few blocks away, but I’m not sure.” She shrugs, half smiling. “I’ve actually only lived here for a couple of years.”
My brows knit together. “But you like pizza, yes?”
The pink glow of blood blossoms over her cheeks. “Yep. The store-bought kind is good too, though.”
I laugh, incredulous. “Better than the acclaimed New York style?”
Her cheeks burn brighter, and she turns, starting down the hallway. “I bet the doorman can give you a better recommendation.”
It’s clear that I’ve uttered the wrong words. Maybe she hasn’t been to the restaurant near here because she can’t afford it. That would make sense. She said she’s lived in this city for two years, and judging from her age- she couldn’t be more than her early twenties- she’s probably been struggling to make ends meet. New York isn’t a cheap place. I’m not even sure how much rent is for this building, but it’s definitely a lot higher than the properties on its outskirts.
After a moment, I fall into line with her, both of us making our way to the elevator. As we walk, I glance at her legs. They’re covered by black tights, something that goes along with the plain colored uniform she’s wearing. Her shoes, a pair of red Converse’s, clash with the black skirt and white button-up, but I like the look. It suits her.
“I’m Samuel, by the way.”
Her chin tilts upward as she side-eyes me. I don’t miss how her lip twists upward for a fraction of a second.
“Jane,” she replies.
Jane.Such a common name. I’d figure her a Naomi, or a Lily, maybe. Something unique to match her enthralling allure.
“Where are you from, Jane?” I glance down at my watch. Rune wants to speak with me in twenty minutes. I have enough time to drag out this conversation, at least until we make it to the lobby doors.
She makes a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat. “Oh, you know, around.” Her shoes scuff the against carpet with every step she takes, making more racket than necessary.
“If I had to guess, I’d say you were from somewhere south of here. Tennessee, perhaps? Or Kentucky, maybe.”
Her chin juts as she glances at me, eyes sharp. “Why would you think that?”
I keep the humor from my eyes as I answer with the best southern accent I can muster. “You sound like a southern bell, my darling.”
Her features morph into a glare. “I sound nothing like that.” She’s extra careful to mask her accent as she replies. “Besides, you’re wrong. I’m from North Carolina.”
“I was close.”
