by June Stevens
About halfway across the bridge, I heard a shout and the pounding of feet behind me. I turned to look, wondering if perhaps a traveler had mistakenly brought a horse- or oxen-driven wagon onto the pedestrian-only bridge. No such luck. The sailor I’d given a beatdown to earlier at Pete’s and his two buddies were several yards behind me, but moving in fast. They pushed other walkers aside as they made their way towards me. Damn, so they hadn’t gone back to their boat.
A small knot of fear formed in my stomach. There were three of them and one of me. While I was confident I could whip any one of them with no problem, I certainly wasn’t vain or stupid enough to think I could take on all three. I did the only thing I could do. I ran.
As I raced down the bridge, weaving in and out of other pedestrians, I went over my options. I was about a mile from home. I had worked all night, and instead of going to bed, I’d gone down to the waterfront to fight at Pete’s. My normal energy was starting to wane. There was no way I would make it all the way home without them catching me. They were chasing me in broad daylight across a crowded bridge. I had no doubt they would attack me in public too. Just getting to a busier street was not going to work. I glanced over at the wide cart-and-wagon bridge that paralleled Foot Bridge. It was several feet lower than Foot Bridge and rickshaws, surreys, riders on horseback, and large industrial wagons pulled by oxen lumbered across it. I could jump down, and if I managed not to break an ankle or my neck, or get run over by a vehicle, I still would only be a few seconds ahead of the thugs once I exited the bridge. Possibly with even less of a lead, given the time it would take to jump, recover, and start running again.
Nearing the end of the bridge, I frantically searched for another solution. Of course there wasn’t a City Guard around when I needed one. The buildings of Old Nash loomed ahead of me. My only option was to get off the open street and into the Slums as quickly as possible. I knew this area like the back of my hand, and I was pretty sure the three following me didn’t. I could lose them by weaving in and out of alleyways and crevices between the old pre-Cataclysm buildings and the shacks that were built in every open spot between them. That was back when the world had raged and burned, and tens of thousands of refugees had crammed inside the city walls to survive.
The bridge stretched across the river and a little bit over dry land. I spied the small opening in the railing, the only announcement of the staircase leading down to the street below. There was a narrow alley between the building below and the bridge, so I would have to be fast and not get caught in it. On the other side of the bridge was one of the derelict buildings that made up the largest part of the slums. Once a sleek business building constructed mostly of glass, it was now where some of the poorest inhabitants of Nash, mostly Norms like me, lived. I shuddered involuntarily, as I always did, at the thought of living in that sad, dilapidated place. The glass was long gone and the bottom windows were covered with boards, tarps, and blankets to protect the inhabitants from the weather. A few of the upper floors, occupied by vampires that didn’t mind walking ten or fifteen flights of stairs, were also covered. Most of the building had gaping holes where floor-to-ceiling glass walls had once been.
I had friends living in that building, some of the regulars at Pete’s and other fight houses around the city. If I could just get inside, I could lose the sailors in the maze of make-shift halls and rooms. If you didn’t know how to navigate it, you could get very lost, and the people that lived there didn’t take kindly to having strangers tromp through their home. I could easily find my way through to the doors on the other side of the building, and no one would think twice about my presence. I shouldn’t have any problems, but the sailors would be slowed down.
Only a few blocks from home, going into the building would take me in the opposite direction, but it seemed to be my best bet for losing the thugs. My decision made, I veered to the right, barely missing a woman pushing a baby carriage, and headed for the stairs. I heard a shout behind me and knew the sailors had seen me. I jumped down the crumbling steps two at a time. When I reached the bottom, I veered right again, this time to pass under the bridge.
I had taken about three steps away from the stairs, when a large hand clamped down over my mouth. Simultaneously, an arm snaked around my waist. I was pulled tight against a hard, muscled body. Terror seized me. I tried to scream, but only managed a muffled grunt. I clawed at the hands that held me and kicked my feet furiously, but nothing seemed to work against my captor.
I felt hot breath against my ear. “Calm down, Ginger. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Even if I hadn’t recognized the voice that whispered in my ear, only one person in my life had ever called me Ginger. I stopped struggling and let myself be pulled into the shadowed recess under the bridge. Within seconds, I found myself sandwiched between the hard concrete wall of the alcove under the bridge and the just as hard body of a six-and-a-half-foot-tall vampire. I put my hands between us, but he quickly pulled them away and pressed closer. His long, dark cloak fell around us, so that it was completely shielding me from view.
I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, or even figure out what I was going to say, he hissed in my ear, “Shh. They won’t be able to see us, just be quiet.”
I clamped my mouth shut, and then followed suit with my eyes, since all I could see was a black shirt covered chest. It was a struggle to keep my breath steady and quiet. I was winded from the run, and there was little air under the cloak. With each breath, I inhaled the scent of the man pressed against me. The air grew hotter and thicker by the moment, or maybe it was just my blood. My pulse raced and my skin tingled in ways that had nothing to do with the dangerous thugs pursuing me, and everything to do with the dangerous man protecting me.
Heavy thudding sounded on the stairs.
“Where did she go?” a gruff voice shouted just a few feet behind Jarrett.
The breath caught in my throat. They were ten or so feet away from us. How could they not see us? My body stiffened, waiting, expecting one of them to spy us. Clenching my fists, I prepared for battle. I wasn’t afraid of them with Jarrett there to have my back. One against three was suicide, but two against three, especially when one of the two was a bad-ass vampire, were more even odds. Except, I was exhausted and wasn’t sure just how long I would last. The only thing in my favor was that the sailor I had beaten earlier had to be as tired and achy as I was.
When the next shout came, it wasn’t to reveal our poor hiding skills.
“Come on,” one of the sailors called from a little farther away. “I think she went into that building. Stupid little bitch.”
Jarrett’s arms tightened around me, holding me still when I would have stepped around him to show that meat-head what a stupid little bitch could do when she was pissed off. Running footsteps sounded then faded away.
Jarrett stepped back. “They’re gone. We should get out of here in case they decide to double back.”
I tried to ignore the fact that I suddenly felt cold and bereft without his arms around me, despite the warmth of the day. “What are you doing here? How did you know I was in trouble? Why didn’t they see us?” The questions came out in rapid fire succession, not giving him time to answer.
He laughed. “I’ll answer your twenty questions as I walk you home.”
Bristling, my independent streak reared its ugly head, but I tamped it down. I was tempted to tell him I was capable of taking care of myself, but the truth was, it would be wise to have the backup just in case the three thugs were smarter than I thought. Besides, spending a few minutes with Jarrett Campbell would be no hardship. My eyes scraped over his tall, muscular frame. Heat suffused my body as the memory of the last time I’d been caught between that body and a wall flitted through my mind. I shook my head slightly to clear it.
“We should get going, then.” I hurried up the narrow path between a red brick building and the concrete wall of the bridge ramp with Jarrett on my heels. When we reached the next street over, Jarrett
grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him as he surveyed the street. We were only a few feet away from the second entrance to the slum building the sailors had gone into. If they came out now, we would be in plain sight. But they were nowhere to be seen. They were either searching the upper floors or had been chased out the other side.
“Looks like the coast is clear. I don’t want to take any chances, though. Let’s get out of here.” Before he finished the sentence, Jarrett’s hand slid down my arm to capture my hand. He started across the street, pulling me behind him. We quickly weaved in and out of the traffic of rickshaws and ox-carts. On the other side of the street, our pace didn’t slow until we slid into an alleyway, putting an entire building between us and the line of sight of anyone near the bridge.
“So, why did those guys want to rip your head off? I’m guessing it had something to do with street fighting,” he said casually, once we’d settled into a slow, comfortable pace, our joined hands swinging between us.
“Of course not,” I said with mock indigence. “It was a reputable fight house.”
Jarrett let out a low, throaty laugh that sent shivers of awareness vibrating through me. “Of course it was. I thought you promised Fiona you would stop fighting.”
“I promise her that on a weekly basis, neither of us really expects me to live up to it,” I told him, turning my face up and giving him what I hoped was my most devilish grin. “Besides, what I promised was to stop fighting guys juiced up on shifter blood. Though, really, that guy was so blundering and graceless, I don’t think a blast of manic super strength would have helped him win. It would have just made him more of an asshole about losing.”
Jarrett laughed again, grinning down at me from beneath the wide brim of his hat. “Considering he and his buddies are currently hunting you with murder on their minds, I don’t think he needed any help in the asshole department.”
“True enough.”
I turned down a darker, narrower alley, pulling Jarrett with me via our still joined hands. We weren’t far from the pub I called home, but this way would take longer to get there. Instead of taking the direct route and going a couple of blocks up then a couple more over on the main thoroughfares, we would have to weave through alleys and walkways created by the rough-built shacks that filled the spaces between older buildings, turning what had once been streets and parking lots into homes for poor, mainly norm, families.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Jarrett asked.
“I’ve been roaming these streets since I was a kid. I know my way around.”
“Okay,” he said simply, following me as we walked single-file between two buildings.
The narrow walkway opened to a wider street lined by small, single story dwellings that had been built during the cataclysm. They were now home to the poorest of Nash City’s citizens. The residents of the Slums were generally norms or mages with very little magical abilities. They were the lowest class, people who couldn’t perform magic and had to take the least paying, most menial jobs. As a norm, if it weren’t for Pinky and my permanent job at the pub, I would probably live in a tiny shack somewhere, if I’d even survived to adulthood.
I quickly pushed all thoughts of my childhood and lack of paranormal abilities out of my head and focused on the man that was once again walking by my side. “Okay, it’s my turn to ask questions.”
He gave my hand a little squeeze. “Go ahead, I’m an open book.”
Ha! That was a crock. The tall, sexy vampire was a walking enigma. About six months ago, we’d spent a couple of weeks together in close proximity. He’d been acting as my bodyguard while he and my sister worked a case. My family had been potential targets. We’d had several long talks, as well as other intimate communications, yet I barely knew him beyond a few random facts. Even if I had a hundred years, I didn’t think I’d uncover all there was to know about Jarrett Campbell. I would just have to do with the most pressing questions. “How did you come to be under that bridge exactly when I needed you?”
“I’m Batman,” he said in a deep, husky whisper.
“You’re a what-man?”
He laughed that sexy laugh that made my whole body go tingly. “Sorry, bad pre-cataclysm joke. I was down by the docks. I’d just gotten to town and was stepping off the boat when I heard shouting. I looked up and saw fiery hair, and since I haven’t seen anyone else with that particular shade of red, I guessed it was you. You didn’t seem to want to talk to those fine gentlemen, so I figured you would take the first exit you could off the bridge. I run faster than you, so there I was, just in time to save the damsel in distress.”
He flashed a wide, boyish grin.
Rolling my eyes, I pretended to ignore the remark. I would have said something snippy about not needing to be saved, but I kinda had. “And how come they didn’t see us?”
“It’s my super power. I told you I was Batman. Well, technically Batman didn’t have any super powers. He was just a rich guy with lots of gadgets. So I guess I’m Superman.”
I stopped in the middle of the street, our joined hands pulling him to a stop as well. I couldn’t help the baffled laughter that rolled out of me. “What in the crap are you talking about? Do you have some sort of Vampire dementia? You’ve probably been out in the sun too long.”
“Are you telling me Pinky never told you stories about superheroes? I mean, sure, there haven’t been any comic books around for a couple hundred years, but I would have thought Pinky would have been a fan since he was a teenager when the best comics were created. Not to mention the amazing movies.” He flashed me a genuinely puzzled look. “Captain America, Spiderman, Guardians of the Galaxy. He never told you about those?”
I shook my head, still laughing at his look of indignation. “Sorry, no. As kids, my sisters and I spent a lot of time at the City Library. Carly is like our honorary aunt. She watched us while Pinky slept mornings after working all night. I’ve read a lot of books, but I’ve never heard of comic books or super heroes.”
He gave a long, put-upon sigh as we started walking again. “That is truly tragic. I can’t even begin to try and educate you on the wonders you have missed.”
“Well, then I guess you’ll just have to tell me the real reason those thugs couldn’t see us.”
“If I must,” he said in mock defeat. “It really is my power though. I can bend light energy around me—and one or two additional people if we are close and touching—to appear invisible for a short time.”
He dropped my hand, the air shimmered around him, and he faded from sight.
“Wow, that’s a pretty cool power to have,” I said, rubbing my hand that now felt cold without his touch.
He faded back into view. “Yeah, it can come in handy.”
A thought popped into my head as we started walking again. “That’s why you aren’t rushing to get out of the sun. I wondered why you never seemed very concerned about the sunlight. I thought maybe you just didn’t have the same allergy as other vampires.”
“No, I have the allergy, or at least I think I do. It took me a while to realize it, but along with the light bending, I have this natural energy force field around me. I don’t have to consciously think about it like I do for invisibility, it’s just there.”
“Were you a mage before you were changed?” I was genuinely curious about Jarrett and hoped he wouldn’t think I was being rude.
“Nope. Not even a little. I had no idea magic, vampires, or any of that existed. I spent my life in the sun, though, and I think that is part of why my powers manifested the way they did.”
I nodded. I knew that even norms usually developed some sort of magical abilities when they became vampires. The ability to manipulate energy came from brain’s activity level. Norms used around 10-15% usually. Level one mages registered at least 25% brain activity. The N-V virus that caused vampirism often activated more areas in the victim’s brain, giving norms some magical abilities and increasing those of a mage. Though there wasn’t any real proof of why diffe
rent abilities manifested in different people, it was speculated that it had to do with the brain areas that were active. In a class at the Academy, I remember reading that some mage scientist put forth that the powers a person would have after being infected with N-V virus could be loosely predicted by their personality and natural abilities.
That made me curious about why Jarrett had spent so much time in the sun before he was made, but before I could ask, he stopped walking. I realized we were standing in the alley behind the pub, right in front of the back door.
“Here you are, home. Safe and sound.”
“So I am,” I said, trying not to show my disappointment at not getting to ask the questions bustling around in my brain. “I’d offer you a drink as payment for helping me escape those thugs, but it’s already after noon and I need to get some sleep if I’m going to be worth anything at work tonight. Rain check?”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be in the city. I probably won’t be able to cash in a rain check.”
“Oh,” I said, trying harder this time not to show my disappointment that I wouldn’t get to see him again any time soon.
I reached for the door handle, determined to make a graceful exit, when he took a step closer to me. Before I could process what was happening, he had one hand wrapped in my hair, gently pulling my head back, and the other around my waist, pulling me tight against him.
“I’ll take my reward now,” he said, a fraction of a second before his mouth came down on mine. The kiss started hot and quickly proceeded to scorching as I automatically opened to him and kissed him back with a hunger I hadn’t known existed. He tasted so exotic, yet achingly familiar. The alley melted away as hot tremors slid through me. There was something about this man that decimated my brain and made me abandon what little sense of propriety I had to start with. Just as I was sinking into the kiss, my hands grasping at his shoulders like a life raft, he pulled away from me.
When I looked up at him, I could see the fire in his eyes. He was as turned on as I was, I knew it. But then he popped out his cocky, boyish grin and said, “Sweet dreams, Ginger. Later.”
