Soft whimpering and occasional yapping broke the silence from the few other animals sheltered in the clinic. As she rinsed the feeding syringes and left them in the rack by the sink, she glanced out the window at the busy street below.
Something moved in the gloom of the opposite building, and Nia stilled.
A slender, coatless figure detached from the shadows. He slanted his head up to where she stood, pale hair gleaming gold beneath the dim building light?—
Oh, shit! Him!
She leaped back from the window, blood thundering in her ears. The tension that had eased on her return to the clinic slammed back into her with the force of a ten-ton hammer. Before Kas burst into the clinic and caused chaos or, worse, hurther boss, who was still there despite the late hour, she had to get out of there.
Nia dashed for the back room, scrambled out the window onto the fire escape of the two-story building, clambered down the metal steps, and leaped off the final rung. Her booted feet hit the concrete of the dingy, garbage-infused alley, the impact reverberating up her legs.
Nia took off, putting distance between herself and the clinic. She darted into another street illuminated with blinking neon lights and pushed through a sardine-packed crowd of merrymakers. After the horrible dinner with Nan and her cronies, she should have known life would screw her over again.
Her chest burned, demanding she slow down so it could get its oxygen intake. Panting hard, she ducked into the shadowed recess of a shop entrance locked down for the night. A sporty girl, she definitely wasn’t. Her heart pounded so loud against her sternum, it surprised her the organ didn’t jump out of her chest and signal her location to Kas.
Was this what her life amounted to—running for her life?
She’d completed high school a year early, spent four years as an undergraduate, then went to vet school, and finally, she had the internship she wanted. And now this.
Damn Kas to hell!
Nia pressed her spine against the bolted door, groaning at her stupidity. She’d met him one night at a coffeehouse while waiting for her friends and knew straight-up what he was. He’d been charming and asked to see her again. So, she’d agreed.
God. She shut her eyes. Just recalling what occurred, her terror resurfaced. He’d suggested a walk because the coffee date had ended too soon for him, then he’d grasped her hand and pulled her into a lane between two buildings.
“I cannot wait any longer. I’m dying to taste you.”
While she wasn’t the type to rush into anyone’s bed, she didn’t mind a kiss and had thought he really liked her, but the bastard had other interests. Namely, her blood!
He’d tried to hypnotize her. When that didn’t work, he grabbed her by her throat, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight. She’d kneed him hard in the balls and ran. Survival instinct was all that had kept her breathing.
He’d apologized through text after she ignored his call.
Give me a chance. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I am a blood demon.
She didn’t fucking care. He’d choked her! And she’d blocked him.
He went quiet for months, then last week… Like the Ghost of Christmas Past, or more like a bad spirit left behind after Halloween, he’d intercepted her on her way home. She’d threatened to set the hunters after him, and he backed off. She thought she’d scared him away until she noticed the shadowy figures watching her apartment.
And now he was watching her at work.
Christ, her stomach heaved as she scrubbed her hot face.
Vampires needed plasma to survive. She got that. But demons?
Kas just wanted the fucking high her human blood would give him. Yes, she knew all about the vile species’ proclivities through her best friend. Saia’s family were demon hunters—well, for evil demons, anyway, and Kas certainly belonged in that damn pack.
With another shaky inhale, she peered into the street, terrified to go home. He would find her, drain her dry, and burn her body to ash. She’d become another statistic on the missing persons list.
Grandmother would probably rejoice if that happened.
Footsteps shuffled closer. Her breath caught in her throat. If she didn’t flee, she’d end up trapped in the doorway.
God, she shut her eyes, wishing she could just transfer herself elsewhere like demons did. Voices drifted. Laughter erupted, and a group of club hoppers stopped in front of her.
“Which joint should we h-hit next?” one slurred.
“How ‘bout that one? The Cat’s M-m-moustache,” another hiccupped and chortled, and they all joined in the merriment.
