I needed to find Jordan Files.
Stepping out from the restaurant with the cold breeze hitting my face in half spasms, my mind wandered into several conflicting thoughts.
So, Derrick Vale was the masked assassin at Don Puerto.
But why ?
He wasn't from the wolf community. Derrick was half Vamp and half human. What beef did he have with Jordan and once again, how the hell had he managed to teleport, an ability only alpha wolves were capable of. .
And if he was working for somebody, then who ?
And why on Earth was I becoming so neck deep in Jordan's mess.
Or non mess .
Fuck.
Breathe, Night, breathe, I told myself slumping into the arm chair stationed at the end of the street. Pedestrians usually sat here to rest, or await a cab.
The street was dim, washed in that half-light Tish usually wore when it was too tired to care. Cabs and motorcycles weaved through puddles that glowed with neon reflection — reds, blues, restless.
A stray dog limped across the road. Somewhere, a siren wailed, distant and uninterested.
I dragged my palms down my face, exhaling into the night. My breath came out white. My fingers trembled — not from fear, but from the growing weight of knowing too much.
I could just find my way to The Academy, stretch my tired head on the warm bed in my dorm room and maybe doze off and wake to find that this was all a dream. ..
A bad, bad dream.
"What is a bad, bad dream?" A too familiar haughty voice breathed beside me.
I clenched my jaw, electricity flickering out of my fingertips — just enough to spark against the hooded figure that had materialized beside me.
Jordan Files .
Beneath the shadow, I caught the faint glint of his grin — lazy, infuriating, gratingly arrogant.
"Still jumpy," Jordan murmured. Yes, his voice was as smooth as silk. Yes, something danced at the pit of my stomach. Yes, I retained the scowl on my face. I wasn't going to give him more reasons to gloat.
Instead, I rolled my eyes, folding my arms. "Still sneaking up on people "
He chuckled — low, smooth, like a knife slicing through honey. "Still sneaking up on you . Lets just say you are the only person that makes me forget how to use a door. " His eyes hovered listlessly around the busy street and then he shrugged "Oh well, no doors this time. "
"I am flattered" I smirk.
"As you should be" He snorts and this is one of the many times where I am strangling the wish to throttle him.
"Asides being a pain in the ass, what else do you do?"
He shifts closer and somehow the air seems colder and there's goosebumps on my skin and I am wishing I could lie wrapt in the warmth of his familiar arms.
His voice is a low hum when he says "I like how your mind works. Luscious. " His tongue lands cold on my neck . Too close. To familiar. Too smooth.
I do not pull away "You should. I shook hands with your assassin today.".
If he is shocked, he masks it well because the tongue stays calm on my neck. Unbothered. Nonchalant. Cozy. Sleek.
His voice stays on the same low hum "What assassin, Mon Cherie".
I swallow. "Barney Mask. Don Puerto ".
The claws spike out immediately. A low growl escapes his throat. The tongue on my neck metamorphoses into fangs. Biting. Grating. Splinters. Sinking into my flesh in a hot burn.
"Now that's more like it" I smile thickly.
He jerks back almost instantly, breathing hard, eyes flaring with that sharp amber that means he's halfway between man and monster. Blood stains his lips — mine.
I touch my neck, smearing the warm slick with my fingers. "You really need therapy," I murmur.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, glare simmering. "You really shouldn't have gone near Derrick Vale ".
I freeze as the realization sinks into me .
"Wait, you mean you knew he was the one?" My mouth is wide open.
Jordan ruffles his hand through his hair in that idle, repugnant, unapologetic pose "Took me just two days to decipher it".
"And you didn't deem it wise enough to tell me? Me who saved your life".
He rolls his eyes "I didn't want you haunted by the thoughts of celebrity vampires. Or half Vampires. Ignorance, they say, is bliss".
"Bliss indeed " I fume, thick with rage. The sparks sat temptingly on the edge of my fingertips.
"You're bleeding," he says suddenly, reaching out to wipe my neck.
"I noticed." My voice is ice.
"Stop pretending you're fine," he mutters.
"Stop pretending you care."
He freezes. The hand halfway to my throat drops.
For a long moment, we just look at each other — two disasters waiting for the next explosion.
"Has it occurred to you that I didn't tell you because I don't want to involve you in my mess. Its risky. Dangerous. " His eyes slice deeply into mine "I want you to live, Night. Stay alive. Ignorant. "
"Has it occurred to you that I am already too involved to not be involved anymore." My voice is choked.
"I am a haunted man. An outcast to my tribe. Haunted by even a famous hybrid like Derrick Vale who we don't know if he ain't a killer for hire. There are a lot of things we don't know..."
"Like how this famous non-wolf hybrid killer for hire has got Lupine Teleportation " I scoff.
Jordan sighs "Yes. And yes and yes. " His hands stay on my shoulders. "Night, I love you. I wouldn't forgive myself if you get hurt in all this. Lie low, please."
I had promised myself I wasn't gonna cry. But the tears dances brightly down my face stubbornly.
Jordan's lips meet mine. The kiss is not gentle. It has all the trademarks of urgency.
I kiss him back. Fiercely. Stubbornly. Because no matter what he said, I knew I was doomed already. I loved him too much to let go. Too much to lie low. Too much to stay ignorant.
Jordan pulls away reluctantly but his voice is harried "Get back to the Academy, Night. " He lowers it to a warning "Vale doesn't miss twice."
Wordlessly, I pull him closer for a hug. He held me tighter . Letting my body steal the warmth of him while my mind strung up a silent resolution as I stared sightlessly at the sparks on my fingertips.
Vale doesn't miss twice.
I won't miss twice either.
Let the hunt begin.