But Simon had fed him. Had pulled him against his side in that bar, creating a wall of warmth and leather between Charlie and the world. Had lied to his boss to keep Charlie safe.
Why?
The question had been circling Charlie's brain all night, between attempts to psyche himself up for the jump. Why had Simon protected him? Why had that vampire said?—
You were the first to feed him blood. Do you have any idea what that means?
What did it mean?
Charlie didn't know. His maker hadn't stuck around to explain vampire rules. The only things Charlie knew came from movies, and those were apparently mostly wrong. Vampires could see themselves in mirrors. They showed up in photos. They couldn't turn into bats—at least, Charlie couldn't.
And sunlight didn't make them burst into flames immediately. It was more of a slow cooker situation.
Pink sky became coral. Coral edged toward gold.
His exposed feet began to sting.
Would Simon look for him? Or would he write Charlie off as a lost cause, file his report, and move on to the next hunt?
Charlie pulled his feet back into the shade, but there wasn't enough shadow left. His ankles started to burn.
He could survive the jump.
Probably.
Maybe.
The alternative was probably still better than being cooked alive, so what did he have to lose?
Charlie stood, pressing his back against the AC unit. The moment he stepped forward, he'd be in direct sunlight. No more time to hesitate.
Jump or burn.
Some choice.
Chapter
Eighteen
Simon refused to give up.
But it was nearly morning and hestillhadn't found Charlie.
This was ridiculous.
His deadline for bringing him in was almost over. If he failed at this, he'd lose this job.
Other hunters would take over and his reputation would take a massive hit. Reuben would be disappointed.
But that wasn't the true source of his anxiety. Simon tried to tell himself that it was, but he didn't believe his own lies.
Something about all of this was upsetting him beyond reason.
The apartment felt too quiet. Too empty. Which was ridiculous—it always felt empty because Simon lived alone by choice. But now the silence seemed to press against his ears, making him hyperaware of every small sound. The refrigerator's hum. The neighbor's TV through the wall.
His own heartbeat, steady and measured.
And then, another heartbeat. Rapid, panicked, not quite in sync with his own.
