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I caught sight of myself in the window of a lawyer’s office as I jogged past and grimaced.
My short hair made a miserably tiny ponytail and my run had yanked half of it out, so with my red face slick with sweat I resembled a kid that was just done throwing a temper tantrum.
Ahh, well. If I’m training to survive, I guess it’s only right that I look like I’m fighting for my life.
I corrected my slagging jogging form, then looked around the street.
Part of the reason why I was running outside and turning myself into a sweaty mess instead of using the treadmill inside my blessedly air-conditioned apartment building gym was because the jogs were an excellent way to not only familiarize myself with the city, but the people within it.
This early in the afternoon—at the hottest part of the day because I’m smart like that—there weren’t any vampires or werewolves hanging out.
Scratch that, I could sense a nearby vampire but chances were it was a Drake vampire—they were famous for going out during the day.
Most of the pedestrians were humans with a smattering of fae going in and out of Tutu’s farther down the street.
It seems like traffic has resumed as normal. Then again, the mantasps were released in the middle of the night so I guess people would assume there isn’t anything to fear.
I could still smell the faintest trace of the hot, tarry mixture the city used to repair the potholes we’d created when fighting the mantasps, so I was studying the streets when I jogged past the pasty guy with the umbrella.
Hold up—vampire!
I slowed to a walk before groaning and staggering under the striped awning that was hung over the front of an accountant’s office, which let me loop back a few steps so I stood closer to the guy holding an umbrella.
As I pantomimed ‘exhausted jogger’—which was only half an act—I discreetly glanced up the street, getting a better look at him.
Hidden under the shadow of an enormous black umbrella, the vampire was wearing a tweed suit, with the shirt so starched he could have poked someone’s eyes out with the points of his collar, and a bowler hat. The vampire’s eyes had an unsettling orange hue to the usual red irises and the skin of his face looked thin—like it was hanging off his bones.
Fashion history hadn’t been my best class—that was my mom’s expertise—but Ithoughthis clothes looked vaguely American from around the 1890s.
He’s definitely not a Drake vampire. All the vamps in that Family wear modern suits.
Wishing I had a water bottle that I could drink from to further push my portrayal, I leaned against a wall and gasped for air.
At least now all that redness in my face will be useful for something!
Chances were this vampire was the lowest rank in his Family, so he’d been ordered out during the day to finish some business for the Family. That didn’t mean he was doing anything illegal, but I was on high alert given the recent mantasp incident.
Besides, this was an excellent opportunity to practice my tailing/observation skills.
I fanned my face and casually peered up and down the street. The grumpy vampire remained where he was—in as much shadow as he could find at this hour, clutching his umbrella.
When I started stretching out my legs, a white colored van pulled up to the curb and into a 15-minute limit parking spot.
A man popped out of the van. Wearing an orange and yellow tie and vest matched with a white dress shirt, he looked as hot as I was as he squinted in the sunlight and stepped onto the curb. I noticed the patch on his vest, which had the crest of the wizard House Tellier.
What’s a House Tellier wizard doing here?
The Tellier wizard looked up and down the street until he saw the lurking vampire. He ambled up to the vamp and greeted him in a lowered tone.
The vampire stuck his nose up in the air and responded in a similarly lowered tone that I couldn’t hear.
The Tellier wizard jerked his thumb back at the van, then retreated to the car, climbing into the driver’s seat.
Surprisingly, the vampire followed him and fumbled with the passenger door handle for a couple of moments before getting the hang of it and sliding into the van.
That’s weird. I watched as the wizard turned the van on again, then slowly pulled out onto the street.I didn’t think Tellier was known for being particularly interested in inter-supernatural relationships.
Supernaturals weren’t all that great at working together. Sure, we were united in two things: firstly, in the war against elves because they had been awful tyrants who’d nearly ended supernaturals with their thirst for power and, secondly, in the need to make humans think supernaturals were all harmless and good.
