“Shut the fuck up.” Ian presses the spike more into Vincent’s neck. A small drop of blood breaks the surface of his skin. My eyes follow it as it drips down his neck.
I must have spaced out. I hate when that happens. I thought I was fine. I even did a treatment on myself before I came here. It’s where I was supposed to still be, but clearly Ian must have known I didn’t finish it. I’m so busted.
“I was going to ki…” I trail off, unable to finish my sentence.
“Out of the house. We’ll talk about this shit later.” I nod, but my feet don’t move. My eyes are still locked with Vincent’s.
Ian reaches out to grab me, but never makes it. Vincent spins, elbowing Ian in the abdomen. It sends him flying back a few feet, where he hits a wall.
“Don’t touch her,” Vincent growls.
Buffy hisses. I stumble back a few steps, finally moving. Vincent’s eyes flick back to me. They pin me in place for a long moment.
“We’re leaving.” I keep my bow trained on him, ensuring that he doesn’t try any funny business as I bend down to pick up Buffy.
“Are you now?” The smirk returns to his lip.
I nod, circling around him as Ian gets his bearings back. I blink quickly as my eyes start to feel heavy again. Along with the rest of my body.
Ian grabs the door, throwing it open. Sunlight pours in as the sunset gives off the perfect amount of light, likely saving both our lives. In the blink of an eye, Vincent rushes toward me but stops when he gets to the edge of the light.
I step back, looking down and watching the sunlight glow along the floor right to the edge of where the vampire is standing.
“Come on.” Ian grabs my arm, pulling me out of the house. I run to his car and place Buffy in the back before hopping in. I can’t help but peek behind us. Vincent stands in the doorway watching us. He inches forward with the falling sun.
Ian hits the gas, peeling out and leaving Vincent behind. I grab my seat belt and put it on. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Ian hits the steering wheel with his fist.
“I thought I could handle it.”
“You couldn’t even handle doing your treatment, but you think you can handle a vampire?”
“I did my treatment!” I protest. He shakes his head, not believing me as he speeds through the street, making a straight cut for the highway. “I really did.” I yank up my sleeve to show him. “Maybe I’m getting worse.”
I run my finger over the bandage. I used to get monthly infusions. When I turned eighteen, I found out I was anemic. They never could determine why. I have no other underlying issues, but it’s growing worse. I’ve gone from monthly infusions to weekly ones. I yank my sleeve back down, not wanting to look at it anymore. Sometimes I get discouraged with the whole thing.
“It’s going to be okay.” Ian starts to calm down when he realizes I’m getting scared.
“He said he didn’t kill those boys.” I change the subject. I really thought I could go check things out myself. Prove to Ian I’m ready for more. It gets so boring being stuck in the warehouse all the time.
“We don’t know that he did. You jumped the gun. Not to mention, vampires can lie just as well as humans.” Ian lets out a long, frustrated breath. I had, but I didn’t want someone else to die. He could have killed that sweet old lady I spotted. She all but offered herself over to the handsome bloodsucker. A flash of unexpected jealousy fills me, just from picturing Vincent’s mouth on anyone. “Evy.”
“Please don’t say it.” I hate the rush of fear I get when I think Ian is going to change his mind about teaching me how to be a slayer. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have a path. I’m not so lost.
I met Ian a year ago. He’d saved my life when a vampire tried to attack me when I was on my way home one night. After I told him how vampires had killed my parents and I’d barely escaped with my life, he agreed that I needed to learn to protect myself against them. That’s where Ian’s expertise comes in.
“I’m not saying anything. I’m not leaving.” His tone gentles. “Not everyone leaves, Evy.” I turn to stare out the window. Yes, they do. Everyone always leaves me. I’m seriously messed up. Broken. After my parents were killed, I bounced around between foster homes, but I couldn’t stick anywhere. Maybe because I kept insisting vampires had killed my parents. I should’ve lied. That would’ve been smart. As it is, it’s like I’m damaged goods and everyone can see it. Friends, what little family I had left—all ditched me eventually. No one wants me, except vampires—who only want to kill me. The hell is up with that? If it weren't for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.