Charlie was gone.
Chapter
Fifteen
The last vampire crumbled to ash, and Simon stood among the dust with his stake still raised.
Charlie didn't think; he ran.
The world dissolved into a streak of neon and shadows. His legs moved without conscious command, vampire speed carrying him through streets that blurred past like watercolor in the rain. Faces became smears of flesh tone. Cars stretched into ribbons of metal and light. The city folded around him as he sped through its streets and up its walls.
Four vampires.
Simon had killed four vampires like it was nothing. Efficient. Practiced. Deadly.
And Charlie was a vampire too.
His chest burned even though he didn't need to breathe. His vision tunneled until all he could see was the next building, the next leap, the next escape from the terrible knowledge clawing at his mind.
Those vampires…
He'd been a joke to them. Hisentire existencehad been a joke to them. Danny had turned him for entertainment, placed bets on how long the pathetic human would last. And Simon…
Simon who'd picked him up from the floor of the convenience store. Who'd fed him. Let him sleep in his bed. Lied to his boss to protect him.
Simon who'd just murdered four vampires without breaking a sweat.
Simon who was apparently the Organization's "special project," whatever that meant.
Charlie ran into something solid. The impact echoed through his bones, sending him stumbling sideways until he fell, hands slapping against concrete. He blinked, gasping, the world snapping back into focus.
He sat on a rooftop.
The city sprawled below him in all directions, a carpet of lights that stretched to the horizon. Wind whipped through his hair.
He pulled up his hoodie.Simon'shoodie, he realized with a sick twist in his stomach. He still wore Simon's clothes, still carried Simon's scent on his skin.
How high up was he?
Charlie crept to the edge, peering over. The street looked like a model train set. Cars moved like toys. People were specks of motion barely visible in the glow of streetlights.
Forty floors? Fifty?
"How did I…?" His voice cracked, lost in the wind.
He had no memory of climbing. No memory of choosing this building over any other. Just the blur of panic and speed, and now he was here. Wherever here was.
Charlie backed away from the edge and pulled out his phone. The screen stayed black no matter how many times he pressed the power button.
It was just as dead as he should be.
Just as useless too.
He sat down hard on the concrete, knees pulled to his chest. The city hummed below him, traffic and music and voices blending into a low throb of human activity. All those people going about their lives, unaware that a failed vampire sat trapped on a rooftop above them.
The hunger was coming back.
It started as a whisper in his empty stomach, growing stronger with each passing minute. How long had it been since Simon's blood? Hours? It felt like days. The sharp, gnawing need clawed at his insides, reminding him that ketchup packets and cherry syrup weren't going to cut it anymore.
