“And what areyou, my dear?”
“Hungry, so if you’d wrap up this little ray of hope you’re bleeding all over my table, I’d like to get back to waiting for my pie.”
He sat back, shoulders straight. “I want you to listen to what I tell you. What we do is not different from what you do, only it’s cleaner. But we do so much more than that. It is dangerous work, but you’ll be one of us, and that means protection. You’ll have food, shelter, and a paycheck.”
“Maybe sweeping the streets isn’t a job to me; maybe it’s a mission I do for the love of it.”
Viktor leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “Forgive me. I did not know I was dining with Mother Teresa. The next time you’re searching for a hot meal and don’t have a place to stay, remember that you’re wasting your talents.”
I sipped my coffee and then set down the white cup. “So you created your own little organization of bounty hunters. What makes you so different from them or that HALO group of do-gooders?”
“Because we do what bounty hunters can’t and what HALO won’t.”
A chill ran up my spine. HALO was a group of men who investigated crimes and brought down criminals, but they did everything by the book. The same applied for most bounty hunters, except that they did more extensive traveling. If what he said was true, that meant the higher authority was possibly paying them to do things in secret—breaking laws without repercussions. Breed didn’t have an official form of government, but the higher authority was as close as it got. Elected members from each Breed sat on the panel, and one was located in every major city throughout the United States. From what I knew, they were the ones who imposed sentencing, whether it be serving time in Breed jail or the death sentence.
“How did you find me?”
“You can only catch a shadow when you stand very still. I have a tracker who is good at what he does.”
I blanched at the idea this guy had been following me. Had I left behind clues? Bread crumbs? Evidence?
He slid a white card in my direction. “Keep it.”
Betty set a white dish in front of me with a slice of apple pie and vanilla ice cream. She took my empty plate and went about her business, wiping down tables and refilling the napkin holders.
I flipped the card over.
“All it says is ZERO. Is that your phone number or how many times you’ve been laid?”
“Go to the bakery on the corner of Avenue B and 14th Street tomorrow. Do you know the place of which I speak? It has red lettering on the windows.”
“I know it.”
He pointed at the card. “Give that to the baker and ask for the daily special.”
“Will he give me a loaf of bread with a microchip inside? That’s almost as fun as finding baby Jesus in a king cake.”
“Maybe this was a mistake,” he muttered.
My whole life had been a mistake, so I didn’t see the harm in making another. “Let’s just say that I’m considering your offer. What if I join and then decide it’s not the life for me?”
“Joining is not that easy, but should you decide to leave, you’re free to go.”
“Go where? Over a pier with cement blocks strapped to my feet?” I cut into my pie and ate a large apple slice. “I’m a lot of things, Mr. Kazan, but I’m not a fool. Do you really expect me to believe that you’d let me go, knowing who you are and privy to inside information? Something tells me that I’d wind up tied to the engine of a jumbo jet.”
He smirked as if I’d told a joke.
But I was serious.
Dead serious.
“We’ve never had anyone leave, but should you choose to do so, it will be at your own risk. A Vampire will scrub your memory, and depending on how much you know and how long you’ve been with us, it could be messy. There is a chance you could wind up with a clean slate and new identity. Long-term memories are harder for Vampires to wipe, as you know.”
I really didn’t know much about Vampires. No one had taught me, and most people didn’t sit around in bars talking about all their abilities. Most of what I knew I’d overheard or discovered on my own.
“I’ll think about it,” I said honestly, scooping up my ice cream before it melted.
He tapped his hand on the table. “I can offer you something you’ve never known: purpose. Do you think living on the edge makes you a rebel—a revolutionary who’s fighting for the greater good? If you don’t have ambition, you’ll become just as bitter as the rogues who wander aimlessly, enveloped in their own hatred and jealousy. If you see yourself as a saint, remember this conversation ten years from now when you’ve grown resentful that you have nothing while others live comfortably. The line between good and evil is invisible, and if you cannot sense where it is, it won’t take long to cross it. Aspire to be something greater than just a shadow of yourself.”
