“You could be walking into a trap.”
I take a drink of water and set the bottle on the table. “I know.”
10
“What if you get hurt?” Gilbert asks.
“Then I get hurt.” I grab my water again. “I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do. But I…” Admitting I need help isn’t my forte. I’m used to going at things alone, and even more used to having to prove myself. It doesn’t make sense and I know it, but I’ve developed the unhealthy habit of thinking asking for help means I’m weak. “But I need to know how to kill the vampires.”
“Wooden stake through the heart,” Thomas blurts, and the others look at him with annoyance. “What?” He shrugs and goes for yet another taco. “The sooner she kills the sire, the sooner we can break this fucking curse. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to feel the sun on my face again.”
“You shouldn’t encourage her,” Hasan says gruffly. “She’s human. She can’t go up against a nest of vampires. It’s a death wish.”
“She seems capable,” Gilbert agrees with his brother.
“Guys, stop.” I stand. “I’m right here, and I’m not asking for permission or advice. If you don’t want to help me, fine. Don’t help me. But I’m doing this, and if I die, good luck breaking the curse.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jacques says softly, and he looks at me with the same familiarity as before.
“Trust me, I don’t want to get hurt either. But if I don’t stop the vampires, someone else will get hurt. Unless Sam and Dean Winchester are out there ready to swoop in and save the day, I’m the only person who knows the murderer is actually a bunch of vampires. I’m the only one who can stop them.”
Hasan, who seems to have an ever-present scowl, tips his head down to me. Even on my feet, he towers above me, standing at least a foot past my five-foot-six-inch frame.
“I will help you.”
“You will?”
He smiles. “Yes. Helping the less fortunate is why I became a Templar.”
Behind the pounds and pounds of muscle and the rough exterior he wears like armor, I see him, and know he means it. We’re not that different.
“That’s why I became a cop. Part of it at least…to make the world a better place, even if it’s just a little bit better than it was before.”
“To help people.”
“Yeah.” I cast my eyes down. “To be there, bringing light to the dark and all that lame shit.” I put the torn napkin on the table and reach for a taco. I need to eat. “Anyway, back to the vampires.”
“You need to be careful, Ace,” Jacques starts. “Vampires are stronger than humans and they are going to be drawn to you even more since you have magic.”
“I don’t have magic.”
“You woke us. You summoned us. There is magic in your blood.”
I blink, not even trying to process it. “I’ll figure it out later.”
“I just told you that you have magic and you’re not at all curious?” Jacques questions. I know enough about human psychology from my years interviewing suspects to know what he’s doing. He’s trying to figure me out, to see if I’m full of bullshit or not.
“Oh, I am.” I peel back the flour tortilla and add hot sauce. “Super curious. But like I said, the vampire issue is time-sensitive. Once I kill the sire, you can bet your ass we’re sitting down for a lengthy conversation.”
“Fine.” He eyes me suspiciously, not able to make up his mind. He’s good at hiding his emotions, but I’m good at reading them. And right now, he’s trying to decide if he wants to hate me or fuck me.
Maybe both.
“Not just any wooden stake will do. You need a priest to bless it.”
“A priest?” I haven’t set foot in a church in years, and while I’m sure there are a good deal of Christians who believe in demons, I know I’m going to have a hard time finding a priest to bless a pointy stick. “Well, fuck.”
“Can’t you do it?” Thomas asks Jacques.
