He barked a short, startled laugh. “Holy shit.”
“Maybe it’s even something you can inject. We can ask Nikita. Then you wouldn’t have to feel like it was actually blood.”
“You’re serious?”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because it’s fucking weird,” he said, frustration bleeding through.
“Yeah, but it’s your life now.”
He sighed.
“We’ll figure it out.”
He gave her a sideways look from the corner of his eye, expression hard to read. He shook his head and glanced out toward the parking lot – and bumped her shoulder with his. “So feral werewolves are a thing and they’re in New York eating people.”
It was a relief to change the subject. “Apparently.”
“What’re we gonna tell the captain?”
Trina glanced over, startled. “We.”
He shrugged. “You said I was still me, right? So I’m still a cop. Just, maybe…” He curled his hand into a fist in his lap, turning it over, examining it with sudden, intense focus, brows tucking low. “Maybe a cop who’s a lot stronger.”
~*~
Jamie was an only child, but he thought this must be what it felt like to be someone’s younger brother, tagging along for the ride, no one asking for his opinion about anything. It was annoying, sure, but he wasn’t the sort of person who liked to make a fuss. He was generally content to go with the flow and deviate when he had the chance.
Except right now he was a brand-new vampire with a lot of fucking questions, and was apparently sitting next to a member of the long-dead Russian royal family.
Okay.
“They’re hunting us,” Nikita said, grimly, on the other side of the booth.
“Who is?” Jamie asked.
Alexei scoffed. “Coincidence.” But when Jamie glanced over at him, he looked pale. His lower lip trembled, fractionally, as he took a breath.
“No,” Nikita said, voice hard. “It’s not. Your littleprotégé” – he spat the word – “decided to go on a turning binge.” He gestured to Jamie, and Jamie felt his stomach grab unpleasantly. He wanted to be offended, but he certainly hadn’t asked to be turned.
As if sensing his distress – and didn’t dogs,wolves, sense that sort of thing? – Sasha sent Jamie a fleeting smile.
“The video of Chad walking out of the morgue is all over the Internet,” Nikita went on, scowling. “And then feral wolves try to find Lanny? That’s not a coincidence, and you know it.”
Alexei shrugged and sipped his coffee, eyes a little wild.
Around them, the restaurant hosted a modest afternoon crowd, a mix of students and businesspeople eating craft burgers. (Sasha had picked the place, saying it was one of his favorites.) There was local art on the walls, and James Brown playing softly over the sound system, and Jamie might have enjoyed it if they weren’t discussing being hunted bywerewolveswhoate people.
It was all too much, suddenly. The absurd turn his quiet life had taken.
“Okay.” He slapped his hand down on the table, harder then he’d ever been able; all their water glasses jumped. Whatever. He wasn’t sorry. “What are we going to do? What am I–” He broke off, throat tightening. “What amIgoing to do?”
Sasha looked sympathetic.
Nikita looked like an asshole – because he was one.
“We’ll find somewhere for you to lay low,” he said, dismissive. “Until we figure out–”
