Northern Bites (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter, Vol. 2) (15 page)

Jared
stood directly beside me. I fought the urge to take a step away from him. “A Michelangelo is beautiful. A Rembrandt is beautiful,” Jared said, eyeing the totem disdainfully as he spoke.

Sounded like he and Fane’s roommate, Joss, had something in common. Total art snobs.
“That’s like comparing apples to oranges,” I said.

Jared gave me a weird look
. “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked, turning his back on the totem.

I bent my head
as I turned my camera off. I wasn’t about to ask Jared to snap a picture for me after he expressed such obvious distaste for native art. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“It could get messy.”

I lifted my head and shot him my “I’m numb to the world and its horrors” look. I’d seen it in the mirror, and it had a certain familiar feeling, or rather unfeeling, whenever it came over my face. “It always gets messy,” I said, enunciating each word, letting them freeze in the air as I spoke.

Jared’s lips twisted into a smile. “I’m trying to decide if you’re tough or just acting tough. I think you’re acting.”

“Think what you want,” I said, maintaining the same cold expression. “I made it through initiation and my first and second missions without any formal training.”

“Do you recognize me?” Jared asked abruptly.

I didn’t have to think about that one. I’d never seen Jared before he appeared in Melcher’s office. He had a vibe about him that I’d definitely remember even if I’d been foggy about his looks.

Instead of answering, I replied with a petulant, “Should I?”

Jared kept watching me without blinking. It was more unnerving than usual. “I was there the day of your accident.”

“That must have been a pretty sight.”

Jared cracked a small smile. “I’m accustomed to it.”

I guess he would be if he was the first one on site anytime a potenti
al recruit got into an accident, but that didn’t explain how he happened upon the scene of my accident. My mom had told me the agents appeared at the site before the ambulance had a chance to haul me off to a regular hospital.

“How could you have possibly
known about my accident so quickly?” I asked. I stared at Jared’s face, looking for clues in his demeanor, but he had the “I’m dead to the world” expression down better than me.

“I have my own team. We monitor candidates between the ages of fifteen and thirty-five around the clock, all
over the world.”

By candidates
, I knew that Jared meant people with AB negative blood, the rarest blood type in the world, making up less than one percent of the population. Thanks to Noel, I also knew that they’d tried recruiting people with AB positive blood, the second rarest blood type, but their virus-laced transfusions didn’t take. That’s how candidates like Noel and Valerie ended up as informants rather than assassins.

Jared stretched his arms over his head. “Melcher has
us set up with a fancy software program. It’s designed to alert us whenever a candidate’s name comes up on a police scanner, newsfeed, or hospital database. I have people monitoring that database. I also have people on surveillance, myself included. I was tailing you the day of your accident.”

I stood there for a minute
, speechless, as still as one of the totems lost in the trees. My brain told me I ought to be angry and lash out accordingly. What Melcher and Jared were doing was a complete invasion of privacy. They probably knew my entire medical history—everything from braces to chicken pox at age thirteen. They probably had files on all of us ABers. As if that weren’t creepy enough, they had people stalking us. Even Jared had joined the fray.

The forest went out of focus. I spoke to Jared without looking at him. “How long had you been following me?”

“From the moment you left school.”

“So you saw the accident?” I asked numbly.

“From a certain angle.”

“Is that the first time
you’ve ever followed me?”

“No.”

That didn’t surprise me. “How often did you follow me?”

“We shadow candidates anytime an opportunity might present itself
—icy road conditions, extreme sporting events, motorcycling, intoxication, overdose, gang involvement, depression, recent breakup with a violent ex—you get the picture. There wasn’t much to go on in your case. You went to school, went home, didn’t drink, didn’t do drugs, didn’t date. Didn’t do much of anything.”

My jaw tightened.
How thoughtless of me to be such a responsible, law-abiding bore. Good thing I lived in a state with extreme weather conditions. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was something.

My mind filled with sarcasm, but I kept it to myself. I was saving my anger for Melcher.
Still, I couldn’t help saying, “How lucky for you that I happened to get hit when you were tailing me.”

That had to be like winning the lottery in recruiter terms. The trillion dollar lottery. I mean, what were the chances?

I met Jared’s cold gaze. I could picture him standing in the rubble
, looking down at my unconscious body without a trace of emotion.

“It was lucky,” Jared said. “Your life is much better than it was before.”

My jaw dropped. “How can you say that?”

“I don’t understand some of you recruits,” Jared said. “You act
like you were abducted from some sort of meaningful, fulfilling life. Where would you have been if you hadn’t joined our ranks?”

“College! In another
few months I would have been attending school at Notre Dame.”

“And then?”

“What do you mean and then?”

“What’s after college?”

“A career.”

Jared gave me a pitying look. “That’s
the best you could come up with? Go to work, go home, eat, sleep, repeat?”

God, he was maddening. So I’d been a complete bore in my past and now he’d managed to make my future sound equally pitiful in the space of a sentence.

“At least it would have been my choice,” I snapped. I squeeze my fingers into a fist around my camera case. I turned on my heel. I started down the path, backtracking through the forest. Before I could go another step, Jared had my arm in a bone-crushing grip.

“I didn’t say you could go.”

Fear seized me in place. Jared looked capable of anything at that moment, including breaking my arm. His grasp tightened even though I hadn’t so much as breathed. My heartbeat quickened. There wasn’t a thing I could do about that, and I swear he could hear it.

I heard a warbling and clicking noise in the trees that turned into a ranting
ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
before two ravens took flight. I wished I could join them.

“There goes my namesake,” I remarked. My voice reflected nothing of the panic I f
elt inside. Something told me the best way to deal with Jared was to stay calm, not try to fight him.

Thankfully that instinct proved right. Jared’s grip on my
arm loosened as he followed the raven’s flight with his eyes.

“Pesky birds,”
he remarked, letting me go. “Eleven o’clock. My room. Don’t be late.” He pulled down the edges of his open jacket with a firm jerk then took off down the path.

I didn’t move until his receding figure disappeared in
to the woods. I just needed to get through tonight and get back home. After this, there was no way I’d work with Jared again. I’d make Melcher promise. I’d sooner stick a stake in my eye than go on mission with the psycho stalker.

I could handle Dante and his appetites for food and other less savory activities. I
could even handle the backstabbing vixen, but there was something off about Jared. If he’d been anyone else I might have asked for details regarding the aftermath of my accident. Did he call it in to Melcher? What condition had I been in? No, too morbid. Had the other driver died instantly? All Melcher had told me was that the guy in the other vehicle hadn’t made it.

I tried to picture the boy’s face. It had been so crystal clear in those last moments. He’d been more of a guy than a boy. A twenty
or maybe thirty-something guy. The most I remembered about him now was the blue bandana he’d worn tied around his forehead, Karate Kid style.

Too bad he hadn’t had AB negative blood
because the agents would have saved him, too, if there’d been an ounce of life left in the poor guy. Even the agents weren’t that lucky.

The time on
my phone said it was half past three. I meandered my way back through the park, ready to get out of the forest but not ready to return to the room. I listened to music on my iPod as I strolled through downtown, getting a picture of St. Michael’s Cathedral. That one was for Dante. It wasn’t the Notre Dame cathedral, but he’d enjoy it.

“Paris,” I huffed under my breath
, remembering Dante’s brief history lesson.

When the damp air began giving me the shakes, I ducked into a café, ordered a large black tea, and settled into a corner table. Once I’d warmed up and killed some time, I hit the streets. I passed a Mexican restaurant, did a one-eighty, and walked inside. The granola and tea weren’t exactly sitting well
, and I wouldn’t want my stomach to grumble if we had to do any sneaking around on assignment.

I ate my vegetable fajitas slowly, allowing them time to cool. Not like I was in
any rush to get back to the room.

I wished Noel were with me. I wished she were sitting in front of me now. She was good company and easy to talk to. I
would have loved to discuss the case with her and tell her what happened with Jared in the totem park, to say nothing of his stalking methods.

Had Jared been nearby when Noel died? Or Dante? Or Valerie
, for that matter?

For the zillionth time, I wondered how Noel had gone down, but she seemed even more reluctant than Valerie to discuss it
—at least she had the one time I tried broaching the subject.

I checked the time on my phone. Almost eight, which meant Dante and Noel must have made it to Fairbanks hours ago
—with Dante at the wheel, naturally. I wondered what Noel thought of the speed demon. She seemed capable of handling anything. I just hoped she got over Gavin quickly. Anyone who would go out with Valerie had issues—Fane included. Why couldn’t Noel crush on Henry? He always struck me as the nicest of the pair. But that’s not how the heart operated.

The heart was one twisted organ.
At least I had an excuse. I’d literally lost my heart, and this new one hadn’t done me an ounce of good.

11

I spent enough time at the restaurant to finish all my food. Mom would have been pleased. I wasn’t exactly a regular at the Clean Plate Club. I left a tip on the table and dragged my feet back to the Westmark.

Luckily
, I had just missed the vixen changing clothes. She’d traded in her jeans and sweater for a pair of workout pants and tank top. When I walked in she was perched on the edge of her bed lacing up her sneakers.

An empty tray with dirty dishes and half
-eaten food sat on the room’s desktop. There was a glass of red wine on the nightstand beside the bottle.