The teller looked up from their computer screen, brows arched. Speaking slowly, they repeated, “Nocturnal car or diurnal car?”
“Oh, I—” Dahlia blinked rapidly, disoriented by the question and by the fact that she suddenly had a preference. Speaking low like it was some sort of secret, she answered, “Nocturnal, please.”
They rolled their eyes, their fingers already tapping at their keyboard. All around them, the sounds of shoes on the polished floor and tinny announcements echoed off the high ceilings. Dahlia hunched a little, unable to shake the feeling of exposure in such a big, crowded place.
“The next train leaves in thirty minutes.” The teller slid the thin paper ticket through the slot. They eyed her balefully when they added, “You’re cutting it close to dawn. I wouldn’t sit too close to any windows while you wait.”
It took her a second to process that she’d been recognized as a vampire.
Dahlia reeled. It was harder to catch her breath from that than it was after she fell. It was one thing to have Felix or one of his ilk know, but to berecognizedas anything other than human for the first time was terrifying.
Snatching the ticket, she clutched it to her chest and blindly sought a place to sit. She didn’t notice the windows or think about what time it was. Sinking onto a wide wooden bench, she fought the urge to put her head between her legs.
Dahlia thought she’d come to terms with being a vampire. Not completely, but in a way that meant it didn’t quite feel like the world was falling down on her head.
Whatever tentative peace she’d found died when she allowed Felix to take her home, and it’d been buried six feet under when she sank her teeth into his neck like an animal. Her mouth stillwatered at the memory of how his blood gushed into her mouth — hot and tangy and perfect. Synth couldn’t compare.
And the way itfelt…
Not just to drink real, actual blood not from a can, but to release her venom into his veins and mark him so everyone knew he belonged to her. It was the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever experienced. Never in all her life had she felt more connected to another being than when his blood poured down her throat.
And Felix had gone down on her once already that day, so the bar was high.
But afterward, when the bliss wore off and his blood sloshed in her stomach, Dahlia came to her senses and discovered an unrecognizable version of herself sitting in his lap.
She didn’tbitepeople. She certainly didn’t lose her mind over the idea of her boyfriend leaving her for another woman. Yeah, it would’ve pissed her off, but she didn’t strike out with violence.
If she just sipped from synth bottles and didn’t look too hard in the mirror when she brushed her teeth, she could’ve pretended like not much had changed. There was no running from the truth when she had her fangs in Felix’s neck.
Especially not when shelikedit.
She couldn’t even hide it from strangers. Dahlia was a vampire — and she had no idea what that meant. Not really.
A sense of overwhelming loneliness crushed her — an unmooring that left her aching for home, for the scent of caramel and smoke and soft fingers in her hair. Shoulders rounding, she clutched her ticket in one clammy fist and wrapped her arms around her middle like it could help keep her together.
What am I even doing?
She didn’t know how to survive as a vampire. There hadn’t even been a thought about whether she’d be out after sunrise. She didn’t know what synth to buy or how to sunproof windows oranything.
And worst of all was the fact that everything in her screamed to go back to Felix. He wouldn’t just know what to do. He’d teach her how to fend for herself. He’d tell her shecouldhandle it, and then he’d hold her close anyway, not because she was fragile, but because he liked having her near.
All she had to do was trade her freedom for comfort.
What kind of thinking is that? I can’t willingly go back to a cage just because I’m scared. I’m tougher than that.
Dahlia didn’t feel tough, though. Her body ached. She was cold. Her stomach was beginning to rumble again, despite the full meal Felix had given her, and a future full of unknowns yawned before her.
New York was as foreign to her as United Washington. There was nothing for her there except distance. Gods knew how long that would last, though. It occurred to her that Felix and Alastair might not be the only threats on the horizon. New York could’ve been full of vampires like Devon. She had no idea how far the syndicate’s tentacles really spread.
Hopelessness threatened to squeeze the life out of her. It was a lucky thing that someone chose that moment to settle down beside her on the bench, not quite touching but close enough to draw her attention.
A smooth bass voice said, “Next time you decide to run, you should take a cab out of the city,thena train. And pay with cash.”
Dahlia’s head snapped up. Sitting beside her was a beautiful man with deep gold skin. He was dressed in a half untucked black button down and dark pants. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms — one of which was splashed with a distinctive tattoo of a bloody wave. His hair and matching beard were dark except for a streak of white that passed through both.
Amauri.
The man’s eyes creased with a knowing smile as she recoiled. At any other time she would’ve found him disarminglyattractive, but now the twinkle in his eyes seemed more menacing than friendly.
