Page 26 of Taste of Blood
“You do. You’re not like Smyth, killing indiscriminately. You do what you do for a purpose.”
I look over at him, unable to hide my surprise. “Who are you and what have you done with the judgmental asshole I used to know as Asher?”
“I told you, I’ve changed. And I wasn’t a judgmental asshole.”
I grin. “You kind of were.”
“So does that mean you don’t hate me now?”
“I never hated you. I just…” Couldn’t be around you anymore. “Never mind.”
We cross the Verrazano Bridge to the island and I turn into the first bodega I see, suddenly needing something to drink. I grab my phone and look at him. “What’s the address?”
When he gives it to me I enter it in my GPS and pull up the directions. The house is about a mile away. “You want anything?”
He looks around. “Not from here.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be right back.”
I climb out and stride into the store, heading to the back where the coffee station is. I pour myself a cup and cap it, then get in line to pay. I got maybe an hour of sleep after I went home earlier and am starting to feel it, which isn’t smart if I have to face down a conscienceless killer. Even vampires need to sleep, and I’m usually a little off my game if I don’t get at least six hoursa night. If someone had told me I would become a somewhat immortal being who survives on warm blood but still has to deal with all the mundane functions of humanity, I probably would have taken a pass. To be honest, I thought I was signing up to be some kind of super hero. Color me surprised.
When I get back to the car Asher is typing something on his phone. He finishes up and drops it back in his pocket as we pull away.
“How are you functioning?” I ask as I take a healthy sip of coffee and set the cup in the console. He said he was up all night and he apparently went to the office right after I saw him, so no sleep for him.
He shrugs. “You forget, I often have to pull all-nighters to get a deal done.”
“Not me. I need my sleep.”
“You always were a bit of a layabout.”
“Am not.”
Asher chuckles. “You most certainly are. Even as a kid you were impossible to wake up in the morning.”
The reference to that part of our lives quiets any further objection I have. It’s easy to forget he’s known me as a human.
We enter an older neighborhood of bungalows and duplexes. The GPS guides me down a narrow street and announces our destination. I pull over a couple of houses down and turn off the car. We both take a moment to look around our surroundings.
The street is quiet; typical working class neighborhood with bicycles in the front yard and older model cars parked on the street or in the driveways. There’s no one around, and I don’t notice any nosy neighbors peeking out the windows. Somewhere a dog barks, though it sounds like it’s coming from a backyard. Probably left out for the day while the owner works.
“There’s no car in the driveway,” Asher comments. “You think he’s home?”
“Maybe he doesn’t have a car.”
I look over the house. Heavy curtains are shut tight against all the windows. What grass there is in the yard looks like it hasn’t been cut in a while. There’s a rusty chain link fence out front and a broken concrete walkway leading up to the brick stoop.
“Well,” I say, swinging open my door. “Only one way to find out.”
I head around to the back of the car and pop open the trunk, reaching under a ratty blanket for the heavy wooden handle of the only weapon I keep there. Asher, who’s followed me, quirks a brow as I lift out the implement.
“An axe?”
“This isn’t a social call.”
Dante said to take the fucker out, and the fact is, there’s very few ways to do that since vamps are notoriously hard to kill. Considering the location, fire is definitely out. Which just leaves decapitation.
I shut the trunk and press the long handle of the axe against my leg in case anyone is watching, then start down the street toward the house. Asher falls into step beside me.
