The mugger’s body odor was revolting. Ben took a few long drinks just to sate his hunger; then he sealed the wounds in the man’s neck, let him go, and picked up the knife that had dropped on the ground. The human slumped to the ground with his eyes closed, and Ben kicked his feet out of the way, causing the man to fall to his side on the dirty street.
He’d be fine. The human would wake the next day with a hell of a headache and a nasty bruise on his neck.
And no knife.
Since Ben was feeling petty, he crouched down in front of the man and systematically sliced off every other medal on the jacket. Then he pocketed the trinkets, took the knife, and launched himself into the air.
He flew over the city, grateful for the cloud cover, and perched on the roof of an art nouveau palace with glass domes that overlooked a new building project made of tall, sweeping mirrored glass.
What a weird and wonderful city.
Ben decided that Bucharest fit his mood. He couldn’t decide if he was happy, angry, or bitter most nights. He loved being with Chloe and Gavin again. It almost made him feel like himself. But he wasn’t himself. Not anymore. And the people he thought would understand that, like Chloe and Gavin, didn’t seem to.
He tossed the mugger’s knife across the roof and dumped the cheap medals out of his pocket. Then he pulled out the heavy-cased phone he had to use now, and a wave of bitterness spilled into him.
He missed sleek electronics.
He missed driving whatever car he wanted.
He missed eating a giant chicken burrito and taking a nap afterward in a sun-warmed hammock. He’d never feel that again, and it pissed him off.
He rubbed an ache in his chest. Was it possible for vampires to get heartburn? It would serve him right for drinking vodka-infused blood from a wannabe-be mugger.
He pushed the button on his giant phone. “Cara, check the time in Dublin.”
“Voice command accepted, Ben Vecchio. Checking time in Dublin, Ireland.” Cara came back a second later. “The time in Dublin is 4:26 in the morning.”
“Call Brigid.”
“Do you want to call Brigid Connor’s mobile number?”
“Yes.”
“Calling Brigid Connor mobile.”
The phone rang as Ben willed Brigid to pick up. The Irish fire vampire was the one person who seemed to understand his kaleidoscope moods. She was also the only other vampire Ben knew who’d been changed against her will.
“Ben Vecchio,” she answered. “You’re not in China, lad.”
“No, I’m closer to your neck of the woods.”
“Do tell.”
“Romania.”
“Working again?” She muttered something to someone. “Sorry, I’m in the office. Give me a moment.”
“I don’t want to interrupt.”
“No, it’s grand.” She was walking. “I’ll step outside for a moment. It’s been a few weeks. Romania, eh? Is this the Radu thing? I’m glad you’re getting that taken care of. I think it’s been hanging on your mind.”
“I know.” He ran a hand over his forehead; the drizzle was turning to rain. “Am I ever not going to be angry about this, Brig?”
“About…?”
“Being a vampire. Missing the sun. Missing food. Having to drink human blood to survive.”
“Ah.” She closed a door. “Short answer? Yes. I have every confidence you will eventually not be angry about this.”
That wasn’t as comforting as it should have been. He kicked at a pebble on the roof. “I saw her tonight.”
“Who?
“Tenzin.”
“What? How?” Brigid sounded appropriately shocked. “Are you working with her?”
“She kind of… showed up in Bucharest before me.”
Brigid snorted. “Savage bitch.”
“Why are you laughing?”
“I mean… I know you’re angry with her, I just can’t help it. She’s so fecking rude. Part of me has to admire it.”
“Good to know you can find the humor in the situation.”
Brigid took a deep breath. “Did she say why she’s there? It seemed like she was keeping her distance.”
“She was following me constantly.”
“But from a distance.” Brigid sighed. “What do you expect? You’re one of her people.”
“She decided that. Not me.”
“Doesn’t make much of a difference,” Brigid said. “You’re going to learn that. Some of that is just territorial instincts. You have them too.”
Ben thought about his uneasiness in his own home with Giovanni and the itching under his skin on his uncle’s private plane. “I know. I felt them in LA.”
“And you’ll adapt to it soon enough. Be able to understand when to ignore things and when to pay attention to them. So…”
“So what? That doesn’t mean Tenzin can just barge into my life when I don’t want her there.”
“No, you are correct. You get to decide who is part of your life whether you’re human or immortal. Well, other than your sire. You don’t get much say about that. But she’s not your sire.”
“Thank God.”
“Why thank God?” Brigid said. “Because you’re in love with her? Or because you hate her?”
“I don’t—”
“It can be both, by the way. You can hate someone you love.”
Ben stared at the lights over the city, enjoying the drip of cold water that fell down his neck. “She said that she needed to be here. That the job is dangerous and something about it feels off.”
“Okay.” Brigid hummed a little. “Are you wanting my advice?”
Ben took a long breath and let it out. “Yes.” He trusted Brigid. On a personal and a professional level.
“My advice is that if she thinks something is sideways about the job, you work with her. It’s not personal, to quote a gangster movie, it’s business. As far as your security goes, is there anyone you trust more?”
That was a loaded question. “Now that I have fangs, I guess not.”
“Then you have your answer. You don’t go into a fight with one hand tied—don’t go into this job without all your assets. And she’s an asset. As for what’s between you two personally?”
“Yeah?”
“Set a boundary. This job and then you’re quit. Make her agree to it, and don’t budge. This is the last job that was a holdover from before. She’s got until the end of it to sort things out between you or say goodbye.”
“And that’s it?”
“I mean, you’re going to live for who knows how many years, Ben. Might be worth it to keep a little bit of the bridge unburned if you know what I mean.”
He shook his head. “How do you deal with it?”
“Which part?”
“The living-forever thing.” Ben felt his throat closing up. “I never—”
“Aye, that was a sticking point for me too.” Her voice got soft. “All I can say is… there’s one or two things about your life that remind me of mine. And avoiding my problems never did me much good in the end.”
“You think I’m avoiding something?”