Simon paused at the door, looking back at his empty apartment. This was stupid. Reckless. Everything his training warned against. He was about to risk exposure to save a vampire he'd probably have to stake anyway.
The panic in his chest twisted sharper, and Simon found himself moving before he consciously decided to.
The motorcycle roared to life under him. Thirty minutes left.
He was going to save the little ball of chaos who'd run straight up a building with no exit strategy.
Because apparently, that's what Simon did now.
Chapter
Nineteen
Simon took the corner at forty-five degrees, knee almost kissing asphalt. His skin burned along his left side. A sort of phantom pain that had nothing to do with road rash and everything to do with the vampire currently dying somewhere northwest of here.
The pull in his chest twisted sharper, dragging him forward like a hook behind his ribs. Not left at this intersection. Straight. Then right at the next light.
He didn't understand how he knew. Only that Charlie wasthat wayand getting farther from safety with every second.
The sky had shifted from gray to pale gold. Each minute brought fresh agony rippling through his chest. Charlie's pain echoing in his bones like his body couldn't tell the difference between them.
Three more turns, following nothing but instinct and the growing certainty that if he didn't hurry, something essential would be lost. The sensation spiked suddenly.
Charlie must be in direct sunlight now. Simon's vision blurred at the edges.
The pull led him to a forty-story glass tower in the financial district. Dawn reflected off its windows like a wall of fire.
Up, his instincts screamed, confirming his earlier vision of Charlie on a rooftop.
Simon ditched the bike at the curb and assessed the building entrance in two seconds. Glass doors, magnetic lock, security desk visible inside with one guard reading something. Camera positions at two corners.
Twenty-two minutes until full sunrise.
He pulled out his Organization ID. It wasn't for vampire hunting but the cover they used for law enforcement cooperation. He knocked on the glass with fake authority.
The guard looked up, ambled over slowly.
"Building's closed," through the intercom.
"Police business." Simon held his ID to the glass, angling it so the light caught the official-looking seal. "I need roof access. Now."
"I need to call?—"
"No time." Simon's voice carried the kind of command that made people obey first, question later. "There's someone on your roof. Open the door or I break it down and you explain the insurance claim."
The guard hesitated. Simon felt Charlie's pain spike again, sharp enough he had to lock his jaw to keep from gasping.
"Your choice," Simon said, hand moving to his belt where the knife rested. "But I'm going up either way."
The guard's hand moved to the button. The lock buzzed open.
Simon was past him before the door finished swinging, already mapping the lobby. Elevators to the left, stairwell access to the right behind another security door.
"Hey! You need to sign here first."
"What floor is roof access?" Simon called back, jabbing the elevator button.
"Fortieth floor, but it's locked. You need?—"
